Exodus1:8-2:10.
Exodus makes it clear that Pharaoh finds threat in the sheer numbers of the Hebrews. In the midst of hard labor and difficult living conditions, God has allowed the Hebrew people to flourish and multiply with their numerous descendants. This Egyptian king is not pleased. With this possible threat to his security and authority he enacts his plan of ethnic “cleansing.”
This great evil is thwarted by two women who refuse. Pharaoh’s command is a state-issued eugenics movement. It’s not about one woman and one baby, one life or one choice. It’s about a whole lot of women and families and no choice. The midwives offer their action, their noncompliance with evil. They refuse to obey Pharaoh. Baby boys continue to be born and to live.
It should not escape our attention that the scripture gives these two midwives names. With so many generic wives and sisters, they could have simply been “the midwives,” but instead, they are also Shiphrah and Puah. Also striking is the fact that Pharaoh has no name. Our unnamed Pharaoh is afraid of the Hebrew men. He finds two women to take care of this matter for him and reduce the number future Hebrew men. In commanding Shiphrah and Puah, he is expecting total obedience. He underestimates these tenacious midwives, two Hebrew women, and his own daughter. Ironically, even though he fears the Hebrew males, it’s actually Hebrew and Egyptian females who are responsible for his undoing.
Shiphrah and Puah are not acting out of political convictions. It’s not clear whether they are Hebrew or Egyptian or something else. As “midwives to the Hebrews” we don’t know. It’s not clear that they disobey Pharaoh on the basic principle that they will always disobey Pharaoh. It has nothing to do with their view of his foreign policy or general treatment of the Hebrew immigrants. It’s not as if this is the last act against the Hebrew people and they are FED UP with his treatment of them. Or maybe it is.
What is clear is that they are midwives. Their job is the sacred task of bearing both mother and child safely, of caring for both. Their job is to deliver babies safely and to help them live. Pharaoh’s command is a direct affront to their life’s work. They’re going to help the babies because it’s their ethical concern that all babies be born safely. It doesn’t matter who these babies are, it’s just what they do. And so they defy Pharaoh. When he calls them back in to see why all these babies are still surviving, they are willing to lie to this king about the reality and nature of childbirth. Knowing no better, he falls for it.
Shiphrah and Puah not only have a commitment to life. They also have a fear of God. Pharaoh fails to grasp their allegiance to God and their secret knowledge of childbirth. The midwives live into the courage of their convictions. In their lies, they speak to a different truth. They side with life and love.
When Pharaoh’s plan with the midwives did not work out he turned to “all of his people” to carry out the genocide. And yet, there is a mother and father who have a small son. This mother hides her child for three months. When hiding him is no longer possible she does indeed cast her son into the Nile, but she does so carefully, in a water-proof basket. The child’s sister looks after him and eventually Pharaoh’s own daughter comes to rescue and raise the child.
Like the birth of Moses, the birth of Jesus brought out a similar massacre. Again, a human king, feeling threatened by the people of God, orders a mass killing of babies.
It’s almost exactly the same story. On one hand, it places Jesus squarely in the plot of a rich story of a people who escaped from Egypt. So too, Jesus’ birth is touched with a death threat at the very beginning. We come to see just how close God was to being foiled by an evil human being and yet still manages to prevail against all odds. It takes a dream for Jesus, an angel to appear to Joseph and a flight to Egypt. For Moses, it takes his mother and sister who refuse to abandon him and a princess who feels sympathy and adopts the foundling.
Moses ends up growing up in Pharaoh’s household, grows up with a sense of privilege and good education and the ability to see how his people are treated and more importantly see how this shouldn’t be continuing.
This is a story of human power feeling threatened or disgusted. From Pharaoh, to Herod, to Hitler, it’s all basically the same sad story. For the Biblical stories, these tyrants are always outsmarted in the end. The midwives disobey, the wise men disobey. In small ways, tyrannical authority is thwarted.
The midwives found a way in their daily lives, a natural way, to act. They simply would not allow themselves to be used for corrupt political purposes. Their king could not sway them. They feared God and did what was right.
His mother, his sister, and Pharaoh’s own daughter. A whole team of women who say no, out of love for one baby.
Jesus taught a message of love. We are also a people, who stand and say “no, out of love for one baby.”
In our daily living, may we be as brave. May we act out of love, may we be instruments of good, may we be noncompliant with evil , may we reject apathy, may we examine our choices, may we serve as midwives to the birth of love in the world, may we witness the in breaking of the Holy Spirit, may we live with the courage of our convictions, and may God deal well with us.
This sermon has a footnote:
I have to admit I’m wrestling here. In researching this sermon I discovered that Pharaoh may have been asking these midwives to kill the male babies before they were born, a form of abortion. I’m not sure if this text has been used as a rallying cry for protestors at clinics, but I think it could be. I don’t want to talk politics here, to get into pro-life or pro-choice, but I am taking a bit of pastoral license here.
I feel confident in calling acts of eugenics or genocide evil. The state mandated killing in Exodus is very wrong and Shiphrah and Puah were brave and right in their actions. God blessed them.
I approach this carefully because we never know who is among us. I cannot, as a pastor, leave this sermon with the idea that all abortions are acts of evil. I don’t wish to be that judge.
Once upon a time I was talking to a young woman who I’ll call Rebecca about religious topics. She wanted to know how I felt about big issues like abortion. I told her what I thought in the most honest terms.
Rebecca later confided in me that she had had an abortion a few weeks earlier. She explained all of the factors that went into her decision.
She described an excruciating decision. She was not asking for my judgment, but for me to listen. To hold her story and her secret, to let her speak it out loud. She said that it was absolutely the right decision for her but if she had to do it over again, she wouldn’t have. The aftermath was worse than she had anticipated.
The only thing to do now is to grieve and move on. She doesn’t need anyone to condemn her. She needs comfort and acceptance that she is still a child of God.
Sadly, the church is not always a good place to come with our full selves. I want to offer a safe space. For anyone here who has been touched more personally by the reality of abortion, someone who has faced that dilemma, or has a sister or friend or aunt or cousin or daughter who has. Rebecca didn’t have enough people in her life to talk to and she didn’t have a faith community or a pastor, but her grief was very real and she needed someone who could help and not cause more hurt.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Monday, August 4, 2008
Us, Bread for the World (Matthew 14:13-21)
We need to back up to what has just happened. The disciples have just told Jesus that John the Baptist has been killed. Jesus’ cousin and fellow prophet, the one who leaped in his mother’s womb at the news of Jesus’ conception, the one called to announce the coming of Jesus, to be the voice crying in the wilderness, the one who baptizes Jesus. Go back to the beginning of chapter 14, on your own time, to read about the ridiculous way that John dies. Suffice it to say though, that John was killed in a callous and careless act, for palace entertainment.
Imagine if you’re Jesus hearing this news. Jesus gets in a boat and withdraws to a deserted place. He is seeking space for himself. To be alone. To be away from all of the noise and chaos of everyday life. To begin to mourn. To perhaps try to grasp what this death will mean for himself and his followers.
But he can’t get away. Many people know what’s just happened to John and the crowds follow him immediately. They coming streaming out of the towns. What could they be thinking? Are they looking for a revolution? To go storm Herod’s palace in an act of revenge?
When Jesus sees them he feels compassion for them, he knows they feel this sorrow and confusion too. Instead of turning away, he goes to the crowd and heals the sick. He’s hurting too, but turns that energy into healing power. He can’t bring John back and make that right, but he can work in the lives of other people.
He does this healing work for a long time. So long that day turns into night and the disciples come up to him and say “you know, Jesus, it’s getting late, we’re all getting hungry and restless, let’s send everyone away so they can go get something to eat.” Instead, Jesus says, “no, feed them.”
Since when is this our problem? We ask God to “give us our daily bread,” but does that mean we have to give it to others?
The disciples have never cooked for this many people before. They don’t know where to start. The crowd, it turns out, is not your average summer gathering. It’s 5000 people. And by people, we mean men. So there are at least that many women and children as well.
The loaves and the fishes is one of the stories that makes Jesus so amazing. He shows such utter love and patience. He’s already been tired and sad for hours, but he keeps going. He’s still teaching the disciples and showing them how the world ought to be. When people are hungry you feed them. It’s basic human care. If people are hungry, not much else matters. We can talk about world peace all we want. We can take military action and mandate sanctions. But if people are hungry, there won’t be progress. We all need to be fed before we can work together.
We live in a time of plenty. Statistically, there is enough food in the world that no one should have to miss a meal. According to a study by the U.S. Department of Agriculture, we waste 96 billion pounds of food in America each year. Jesus demonstrates good stewardship of their food sources. They are able to pull together their resources and share them across a wide expanse of people. There ends up being so much, that after everyone has eaten, there are still leftovers.
There’s a long history of debate in the church about how Jesus was both human and divine. Some have thought that Jesus was all God and only appeared to be human, or had a human body and a divine mind. This would save Jesus from have to deal with the messy parts of being human. He was an apparition of sorts. God doesn’t have to eat or do other bodily functions. Some that Jesus was all human with an unusually close relationship to God. In 451, the Council of Chalcedon declared that Jesus was both “truly human and truly divine.” The standard mathematical formula is that Jesus is 100% human and 100% divine and of course, that may be good theology, but it’s terrible math.
The point of the incarnation, of God becoming incarnate among us, means that God has to go all out and be fully human as well. Christ is united body and mind with humanity so that he can redeem us fully. The gospels do a good job of reminding us that Jesus was completely human. Of course he is also God, but he lived the full life of a human and took no short cuts.
Jesus weeps. Jesus goes off to be alone to rest. And Jesus eats a lot. It’s clear that Jesus thinks that meals are a wonderful thing. He eats them with everyone he can find including those people that he’s not supposed to eat with like tax collectors, lepers, and sinners. Jesus also sees meals as a great time to get to know people. The food and the fellowship are two of Jesus’ favorite things. Now, this is not to give you a permission slip to jump off of your diet, Jesus is not telling you to eat that extra piece of cake. But Jesus does think that proper nourishment is a good thing. He worked hard. He traveled much. And he knew how to sit down and eat. He didn’t do this alone. He didn’t sneak off for a granola bar and keep going. He gathered whoever was near him, regardless of who they were, and called them to sit around his table.
This was the best way that Jesus could literally demonstrate how he thought people should behave. Like a family. We are the children of God, the body of Christ. And we ought to act like it. We are to sit down and talk and share bread with everyone.
Jesus frequently describes the kingdom of heaven as a banquet. It’s like a large banquet that a rich man planned for his closest friends. And when the time came, his friends were busy and would not attend. And so this man sent his servants out to the streets, to invite everyone they could find to come inside for a good meal and a fine party.
Jesus demonstrates this sort of radical hospitality with the loaves and the fishes. Rather than sending folks away to fend for themselves, Jesus says to his disciples, you will feed them. It’s not enough to heal the sick and pray for them and show compassion. They need to eat too. We don’t live by bread alone, but by the word of God. But Jesus knows that we also physically need food. Spiritual food can only take us so far, and then our bodies start to complain.
In a troubled world, Jesus gives us all the tools that we need. Prayer, healing, and bread. These are our mighty weapons in the face of great evil. In response to the death of John, Jesus heals the sick and breaks bread. What more can we do? If we are Christ for the world? We, who are just little bits of time and energy? What gifts can we give?
Jesus says “for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” And we say, “when? When did we do these things?” And Jesus answers, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me” (Matthew 25)
Jesus offered bread on another night too. And then he offered himself. He gave everything that he was. Don Saliers, says that “Jesus loved meals so much he became one.”
When we share the common loaf, we share much more than a bit of bread. The bread satisfies more than a physical hunger. As United Methodists, we believe that jesus is spiritually present in the bread and the juice. We ask the holy spirit to pour down and make the elements Jesus’ body and blood. We also ask for the Holy Spirit to transform us gathered here that we might be Christ’s body for the world. Communion is not just about us and God. It’s also about us and the world. Jesus thanks God for the bread and fish, then breaks and gave it to the crowd. So, too, Jesus thanks God for us, then breaks and gives us to the world.
Imagine if you’re Jesus hearing this news. Jesus gets in a boat and withdraws to a deserted place. He is seeking space for himself. To be alone. To be away from all of the noise and chaos of everyday life. To begin to mourn. To perhaps try to grasp what this death will mean for himself and his followers.
But he can’t get away. Many people know what’s just happened to John and the crowds follow him immediately. They coming streaming out of the towns. What could they be thinking? Are they looking for a revolution? To go storm Herod’s palace in an act of revenge?
When Jesus sees them he feels compassion for them, he knows they feel this sorrow and confusion too. Instead of turning away, he goes to the crowd and heals the sick. He’s hurting too, but turns that energy into healing power. He can’t bring John back and make that right, but he can work in the lives of other people.
He does this healing work for a long time. So long that day turns into night and the disciples come up to him and say “you know, Jesus, it’s getting late, we’re all getting hungry and restless, let’s send everyone away so they can go get something to eat.” Instead, Jesus says, “no, feed them.”
Since when is this our problem? We ask God to “give us our daily bread,” but does that mean we have to give it to others?
The disciples have never cooked for this many people before. They don’t know where to start. The crowd, it turns out, is not your average summer gathering. It’s 5000 people. And by people, we mean men. So there are at least that many women and children as well.
The loaves and the fishes is one of the stories that makes Jesus so amazing. He shows such utter love and patience. He’s already been tired and sad for hours, but he keeps going. He’s still teaching the disciples and showing them how the world ought to be. When people are hungry you feed them. It’s basic human care. If people are hungry, not much else matters. We can talk about world peace all we want. We can take military action and mandate sanctions. But if people are hungry, there won’t be progress. We all need to be fed before we can work together.
We live in a time of plenty. Statistically, there is enough food in the world that no one should have to miss a meal. According to a study by the U.S. Department of Agriculture, we waste 96 billion pounds of food in America each year. Jesus demonstrates good stewardship of their food sources. They are able to pull together their resources and share them across a wide expanse of people. There ends up being so much, that after everyone has eaten, there are still leftovers.
There’s a long history of debate in the church about how Jesus was both human and divine. Some have thought that Jesus was all God and only appeared to be human, or had a human body and a divine mind. This would save Jesus from have to deal with the messy parts of being human. He was an apparition of sorts. God doesn’t have to eat or do other bodily functions. Some that Jesus was all human with an unusually close relationship to God. In 451, the Council of Chalcedon declared that Jesus was both “truly human and truly divine.” The standard mathematical formula is that Jesus is 100% human and 100% divine and of course, that may be good theology, but it’s terrible math.
The point of the incarnation, of God becoming incarnate among us, means that God has to go all out and be fully human as well. Christ is united body and mind with humanity so that he can redeem us fully. The gospels do a good job of reminding us that Jesus was completely human. Of course he is also God, but he lived the full life of a human and took no short cuts.
Jesus weeps. Jesus goes off to be alone to rest. And Jesus eats a lot. It’s clear that Jesus thinks that meals are a wonderful thing. He eats them with everyone he can find including those people that he’s not supposed to eat with like tax collectors, lepers, and sinners. Jesus also sees meals as a great time to get to know people. The food and the fellowship are two of Jesus’ favorite things. Now, this is not to give you a permission slip to jump off of your diet, Jesus is not telling you to eat that extra piece of cake. But Jesus does think that proper nourishment is a good thing. He worked hard. He traveled much. And he knew how to sit down and eat. He didn’t do this alone. He didn’t sneak off for a granola bar and keep going. He gathered whoever was near him, regardless of who they were, and called them to sit around his table.
This was the best way that Jesus could literally demonstrate how he thought people should behave. Like a family. We are the children of God, the body of Christ. And we ought to act like it. We are to sit down and talk and share bread with everyone.
Jesus frequently describes the kingdom of heaven as a banquet. It’s like a large banquet that a rich man planned for his closest friends. And when the time came, his friends were busy and would not attend. And so this man sent his servants out to the streets, to invite everyone they could find to come inside for a good meal and a fine party.
Jesus demonstrates this sort of radical hospitality with the loaves and the fishes. Rather than sending folks away to fend for themselves, Jesus says to his disciples, you will feed them. It’s not enough to heal the sick and pray for them and show compassion. They need to eat too. We don’t live by bread alone, but by the word of God. But Jesus knows that we also physically need food. Spiritual food can only take us so far, and then our bodies start to complain.
In a troubled world, Jesus gives us all the tools that we need. Prayer, healing, and bread. These are our mighty weapons in the face of great evil. In response to the death of John, Jesus heals the sick and breaks bread. What more can we do? If we are Christ for the world? We, who are just little bits of time and energy? What gifts can we give?
Jesus says “for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” And we say, “when? When did we do these things?” And Jesus answers, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me” (Matthew 25)
Jesus offered bread on another night too. And then he offered himself. He gave everything that he was. Don Saliers, says that “Jesus loved meals so much he became one.”
When we share the common loaf, we share much more than a bit of bread. The bread satisfies more than a physical hunger. As United Methodists, we believe that jesus is spiritually present in the bread and the juice. We ask the holy spirit to pour down and make the elements Jesus’ body and blood. We also ask for the Holy Spirit to transform us gathered here that we might be Christ’s body for the world. Communion is not just about us and God. It’s also about us and the world. Jesus thanks God for the bread and fish, then breaks and gave it to the crowd. So, too, Jesus thanks God for us, then breaks and gives us to the world.
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