Meditation on This Sunday's Gospel

The readings for Sunday, November 10, 2024:


1 Kings 17:8-16

Psalm 146

The LORD lifts up those who are bowed down. (Ps. 146:7)

Hebrews 9:24-28

Mark 12:38-44


The Gospel reading for this week gives us a tough vision of God's expectations, especially for those of us of wealth in the West; or perhaps it's more appropriate to adopt the world vision of Philip Jenkins, and talk about Christians in the affluent, but shrinking in Christian numbers, North, and the poorer, but richer in Christian population, South.

Most of us can convince ourselves that Jesus doesn't speak of us in the first part of the passage--but is this true? Perhaps we should look again.

Most of us don't pray in public, where people will be sure to see us and remark on our piety. But here's a tougher question. Look at the part of the passage about the people of privilege and recognition who "devour widows' houses"; in the time of Jesus, the widow would be the universal symbol of the most economically helpless member of society.

Again, most of us would be sure that Jesus isn't describing us. We think we don't really have all that much prestige. But most of us in suburban churches really do--we drive decent cars and live in decent neighborhoods and have plenty to eat. Many of us give offerings to support the poor. Does Jesus suggest that we should do something more extreme than that? Even if we deny ourselves so as not to be that person that devours the widow, how does that help the poor?

Years ago, I went to hear one of my favorite theologians, Marcus Borg, and he said that we come to know much of what we know about God as Jesus reveals God's character to us. From reading the Gospel, it becomes clear that "God's character is compassion, and God's passion is justice" (Borg's words).

Note that the word is justice, and not charity. Look at the example of the poor widow in the end of the Gospel for today. She gives all that she has. She doesn't tithe. She gives it all. Borg points out that the concept of justice in the Bible is primarily about economic justice; everybody should have enough--not equal portions, necessarily, but enough. Borg points out that justice is far less comfortable for those of us of privilege than charity. Charity lets us tithe and thus, keep our surplus. Justice demands more.

The Gospel lesson makes it clear what God expects. God wants everything we have to give. I'm not sure we should take the end of this Gospel too literally, in economic terms, although the more I read, the more I'm thinking that perhaps God does want us to give away all that we own, if we really want the full Christian experience. God expects more from us than many of us might be prepared to give.

We've just celebrated All Saints Day, which many of us might brush off as saying that normal people just can't accomplish what those saints accomplished. And yet, perhaps we don't take ourselves seriously enough when we say that. Marcus Borg says that Jesus shows us what can be seen of God in a human life; there's much of God that can't be shown in a human life, but Jesus shows us what can be seen. Marcus Borg says that Jesus wasn't different from us--perhaps different in degree, but not in kind. He said that Jesus was like St. Francis of Assisi with an exclamation point--and just think of all that St. Francis managed to accomplish. The Gospel lesson reinforces that teaching and makes it clear that no less is expected of us.

What if we decided to require more of ourselves? What would it mean to really use Christ as your example of how we are supposed to act in the world? Not just during special events, but every day, day after day, during each hour of the day? It's a goal worth struggling towards.

Prayers for Election Day

In 2016, I made this Facebook post on election morning, and it's a sentiment I still believe:  "For those of us feeling fretful on this election day, I say, "Be not afraid!" We are a nation of quilters, adept at taking frayed scraps and turning them into comforters. We are a nation of tinkerers, who can take metal scraps and turn them into cars and computers. We will be OK."

Every day is a good day for prayer; election days are good days for multiple prayers.

I've written election day prayers before.  They don't change much.  I've voted in elections that didn't hold much promise of anything new, regardless of which man (gendered language intentional) won.  I've voted in more than one election which seemed like the most consequential one of our lifetime.  And here we are, voting again in an election that might be the most consequential, or one where we look back with bitter tears aghast at how much worse the U.S. situation has gotten.

Here are prayers that I've written on past election days:

Prayer 1: Just and merciful God, on this day help us to be wise as we cast our ballots. Keep us from the dangers of despair. Remind us of the times when the oppressed have been set free, and help us to be part of that process. Give us the courage to do what must be done.

Prayer 2: Generous God, as we head to the polls, help us stay mindful of those who have gone before us, those who didn't have the privileges that we enjoy. Guide us as we choose our leaders. Help us to discern which candidates will help bring to fruition the world that you envision for us.

Prayer 3: Triune God, remind us that no matter what happens today, the sun will rise tomorrow. Remind us of all the leaders who seemed a disastrous pick at the time but who went on to bring about important changes that we'd have never dreamed possible. Remind us of the leaders with hard hearts that softened. Remind us that you are a God who can make all sorts of dreams come true. And remind us that we have a part to play too.

A Youth Sermon for All Saints

When I got to Faith Lutheran Church yesterday, I had one idea for the youth sermon.  I had a braided bread, and I was going to talk about how we're braided together with the people who came before us and the people will come after us.  And that was part of the youth sermon.

But when I got to the sacristy, I saw a basket of autumnal gourds, and I decided to enlarge the sermon.  I moved the basket to the piano that's in front of the pew where the youth come sit for the sermon:

We talked about saints and how we only hear about their good aspects.  But saints come in all varieties, like the gourds. I talked about Saint Paul, how if there had been no Paul, we probably wouldn't be here as Christians, that's how important he was to spreading the faith.  And yet, what did he do before God knocked him off his horse?

I was a little surprised that the kids didn't know.  But that's fine, I'm happy to be the one to break the news:  Paul was killing Christians.  I could see the surprise in their faces.

I talked a bit about the variety in gourds and how it's like the variety in humans--how glorious!  And then the braided bread, and then we were done.  I think it went well.

In fact, as with many days, I thought the youth sermon was better than the adult sermon.  Some weeks, that depresses me.  But most weeks, I'm grateful to have ideas for both, and I'm hopeful that one or the other speaks to the congregation.

Sermon for All Saints Sunday

Here is my sermon for All Saints--when I deliver it, I anticipate that the ending may be slightly different.  In other words, I'm still not happy with it, but I'm leaving room for the Holy Spirit.

 November 3, 2024, All Saints Sunday

By Kristin Berkey-Abbott

John 11:32-44

In today’s readings, we get a beautiful vision of a world being prepared for the saints, a life of the world that hasn’t yet been born.  Notice how much of the imagery is similar in both the book of Isaiah and the book of Revelation:  tears being wiped from every eye, death being banished, God coming to dwell with God’s people.

And then we get to the Gospel, which gives us a different view of being a saint.  It’s a curious story, both in light of our festival Sunday and in the book of John.  In the beginning of the 11th chapter, Lazarus is sick and the sisters have sent for Jesus.

What does Jesus do?  Does he rush right to the bedside of the one he loves?  No, he lingers where he is for a few days—and thus sparks centuries of debate about why he does this.  The easiest explanation is one that paints Jesus in a strange light:  he lets Lazarus die so that he can show how powerful he is.  But why would he need to prove his power this way?  He’s healed many people, he’s taught in multiple places,  he’s done miracles like multiplying food, and he’s answered question after question.  By now, people are going to believe or they won’t.  By now, he’s attracted the attention of the people in charge, and they are already plotting against him.

Unlike other stories where we see Mary and Martha, in this story they behave similarly—there’s a measure of reproach when they interact with him.  And who can blame them?  They must have questions about what has kept Jesus away.  Once Lazarus dies, they must know that the miracle they hoped for won’t be theirs.

I’ve come to think of these sisters as some of the pillars of the faith—our Christian foremothers, every bit as praiseworthy as the disciples, and frankly perhaps more deserving of praise.  And yet, they show themselves to be very human here in this story.  Mary says that if Jesus had gotten himself to them in time, her brother wouldn’t have died.  Martha is her typical Martha self, trying to micromanage Jesus, worrying about the social niceties like the neighbors smelling her dead brother.  

In a way, though, who can blame them? They’re not expecting Jesus to raise the dead—that seems outside of the realm of possibility.   Throughout the ages, people experience healing and other types of miracles, but it’s the rare person who believes that a person has been dead for 4 days can be brought back to life.  Mary and Martha must have wondered what on earth Jesus is thinking by rolling back the stone from the tomb. 

The Gospel today is a condensation of each of the Gospels, in microcosm, like seeing the story of an entire forest in a single pinecone, like a sonnet that sings a love song in just 14 lines of iambic pentameter.  In today’s Gospel, we see Jesus who is in relationship with humans, who walks beside them, who experiences their sorrows and  weeps with them.  In today’s Gospel reading, we see Jesus delivering the Good News that death will not have the final answer.

Today’s Gospel story is also a microcosm of the larger story of Creation, the story that is heading towards the vision depicted in Isaiah and Revelation:  tears wiped from every eye, and death has lost its sting.  But we’re certainly not there yet.

Like Mary and Martha, we don’t not fully understand why the world is set up the way it is.  We might see miracle after miracle, teaching after teaching, healing after healing and wonder why, if Jesus can do all of these great things, why let death have any power at all?  We might wish that the redemption that Jesus offers us would look different than it does.

Like Mary and Martha, we, too, might want to micromanage the miracles:  heal Lazarus while he’s sick and don’t expose us all to the smell of miracles at work.  But just imagine if Jesus had allowed himself to be controlled this way.  Mary and Martha have a vision, but it’s puny compared to the vision that our Triune God has for creation, a vision where death no longer has the ultimate say.  Why does God’s vision and hope for creation need to unfold in this way, a way that includes both miracles and sorrow?  I don’t know, but I’m sure that God does know.

Jesus promises us that death is not the final answer. We do not fully understand how Jesus will fulfill that promise. Some will argue that we go directly to Heaven, and some will tell us that we'll wait in a safe place until the final coming of Christ. And in the meantime, Jesus invites us to participate in the creation of the Kingdom, right here, right now. We don't have to wait until we're dead.

On this Sunday where we celebrate the saints, where we remember all who have come before us, let us also remember the ways that they showed us how the Kingdom of God isn’t here yet, but the Kingdom of God is breaking into our lives in new ways.  Let us remember the ways that they showed us how we can unbind ourselves from all the forces of death that have wrapped their clothes around us.  Let us remember all the ways that the community of God shows us a new way, a way out of all that holds us in a tomb.  

Along with all the saints, Jesus stands at the door of our tombs and calls to us.   I know that some days it may seem like too much—we might want to stay in the comfort of the graves that we know and understand.  But today and every day, I hope that we hear the call to a new life, one that can start right now.  Today and every day, I hope that we arise from whatever death holds us in its grips, that we leave the grave cloths behind, that we emerge from our gloomy places ready to experience new life.

The End of Our Autumn Triduum

Today is the last day of our autumn triduum. "Triduum" is a Latin word for 3 days, and it's most commonly used for the time between Good Friday and Easter. But the days of Halloween, All Saints, and All Souls are deeply linked, and in similar ways.

Halloween is the shortening of an earlier name for the holiday: All Hallows Eve. In some cultures, it would simply be the night before the Feast of All Saints, a rather benign feast. Other cultures see this time as one of the thinnest spaces, when it's easiest for souls to slip between worlds--and thus, we see the variety of holidays designed to ward off evil spirits, appease the ancestors, and protect the living--in various combinations.

Most of us understand at least some of the symbolism that comes with Halloween. Those of us who are church going folks have probably celebrated our dearly departed in early November. But what about the overlooked Feast of All Souls?

The Feast of All Saints was originally designed to honor the saints, those who had been beatified--official saints, canonized by the Pope. Some scholars point out that in many countries it was a feast day that honored those who had been martyred for the faith, and that some of those worship services might have been somewhat jarring, with disturbing stories and perhaps an artifact or relic on display.

All Souls Day, celebrated the day after All Saints, was designed to honor everyone else who had died. I've also heard it described as the day that honors those who had died in the past year. In the medieval Catholic theology, those souls would still be in Purgatory, and special prayers would be offered for them on the Feast of All Souls.

Those of you with excellent memories of your English major days may remember that Sir Gawain left for his adventure with the Green Knight on All Souls Day. Medieval audiences would have read a lot into that date of departure. They would be expecting that next year, Gawain would be one of the souls prayed for on this feast day.

In most of the U.S. and Europe, we live in a culture that tries every way possible to deny death and the fact that we are all here for a very short time. But this triduum reminds us not only to honor our dead loved ones and spiritual heroes, but also to take advantage of every minute that we have because we don't have very many of them.

Many of us won't have a chance to worship today, but we can take some time to think about the mystery enfolded in this triduum. We could remember our loved ones and the stories they would have told us. We can think of what we'd like to accomplish in our remaining years.

We are already skating down the corridor which takes us to Thanksgiving and Christmas. It's a time of breathless pace for many of us. Let us take another day to remember the souls of those gone before us. Let us think of our own mortal souls which will not be on this earth for a very long time. Let us resolve to strengthen our spiritual lives, so that we serve as saints for those coming after us.


Here's a prayer I wrote for today:


Comforter God, you know that we miss our recently dead. We do take comfort from your promise that death will not have the final word, but there are stages of our grief where it is difficult to believe. Please forgive us our unbelief and doubt. Please keep reminding us of your love and care. Please strengthen us to be able to provide the same quality of love and care to those around us who are grieving loss. Please keep our creative imaginations focused on the redemption of Creation, where you have promised we will not have any reason to cry anymore.

The Feast Day of All Saints

For many of us, it's been a difficult autumn. We've had two severe storms, Hurricane Helene and Hurricane Milton, and other lesser storms, and for some of us, those storms have reminded us that everything we build is more precarious than we thought. We've had continuing violence of all sorts: gun violence and political violence chief among them, with not one but two assassination attempts on a political candidate. Antisemitism is on the rise.  Hatred in general is on the rise.  The drumbeats of war pound ever more loudly.  And then there are all of our individual losses.

Even in years when we aren’t surrounded by constant examples of how short our time here can be, All Saints Day comes around to remind us. We don’t have long on this side of the grave. It’s a good festival to take some time to think about what we’d like to get done while we’re still here.

It’s a good time to think about those who have gone before us. You might spend some time on this feast day thinking about the great saints who have helped to form Christianity through the centuries. How can we be more like them? For what would we like to be remembered in future centuries?

If you have relatives and friends who have served as models of a life well lived, this would be a good time to write a note. We won’t be here forever. Write to them now, while they’re still here and you still remember. On a future All Saints Sunday, you might light a candle in their memory. But in the meantime, you can tell them how much they have meant to you.

In many cultures, this feast day becomes a family time. Think of the Mexican tradition of taking picnics to the graveyard. Now would be a good time to record your family memories. Write them down while you still remember. Make a video. Assemble those records.

But we should also use this All Saints Day to look forward. For many people, this day is bittersweet. We’re reminded of our losses. It’s hard to think of transformation.

But dream a little on this Feast of All Saints. If you could create a new life out of the threads that you have, what would you weave? Or would you start again, with different yarns and textures? What is your dream of a renewed life?

Jesus invites us to be part of a Resurrection Culture. We may not always understand how that will work. Some years the taste of ash and salt water seem so pervasive that we may despair of ever tending fruitful gardens of our lives again. But Jesus promises that death will not have the final word.

Halloween Vibes

--If we're sticklers for historical accuracy, we'll be celebrating Reformation Day today.  Today is the actual day in 1517 that Martin Luther nailed his theses to the Wittenberg door. But for far longer, it's been Halloween, a holiday that both delights and bedevils the modern believer.

--I am a believer who has concerns about Halloween, but they're not the kinds of concerns that some Christians have. I'm not worried about opening a portal through which evil will enter the world--that portal has been wide open for a long time. I'm not worried about demon possession. I am worried about how much we spend and whether or not that's the best use of our money.

--But I'm past the age of legislating all of that. I'm happy to let grown people make their own decisions. But I will exhort us all to at least think about these decisions.

--As we give out candy, let us give a silent benediction to each trick-or-treater: "May your days be sweet and your life be sweeter."

--If you're like me, you won't have trick-or-treaters, and it's too late to carve a pumpkin.  We can still sketch a pumpkin and think about how pumpkins are like the kingdom of God.

two different pictures, made with different types of markers

--No two pumpkins are the same, and they all have a beauty. They don't have to prove themselves. They are already worthy.

--As we light our Halloween candles tonight, let us think about the ways we can be light to the world. Let us concentrate on the ways we can chase away the gathering gloom.