Sermon: Gilgal - Rolling It Away

The Rev. Dr. Leah D. Schade
March 13, 2016

Readings: Joshua 5:9-12; Psalm 25:11-18; Luke 7:36-50

Watch the video for this sermon here:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TCdzsJ7HXOo&feature=share

We’re in the last of our sermon series on “Healing, Health and Wholeness,” and we’re focusing on healing and health for our faith.  This Lent has been a particularly painful one for many here today.  Some of you are facing or recovering from serious medical issues.  Others are dealing with grief from the loss of people who are dear to you.  Still others are in the midst of difficult struggles at home, or at work or at school. 

When you are facing these kinds of challenges, you can find that the very faith that you have relied on during your youth, or in other times of need, can sometimes feel wanting.  The journeys we undertake sometimes lead us to what is sometimes called “the dark night of the soul.”  And your spirit, your trust in God can feel stretched to the breaking point.

I watched this kind of thing happen with my Aunt Joan, who was also my godmother.  Twelve years ago I watched my aunt begin a journey.  It was not a journey you can take in a car or on a plane.  In fact, it’s not even a journey where she could take any luggage.  Aunt Joan was suffering from kidney failure.  And over the course of many months, she undertook the long, slow journey to her face-to-face meeting with the Lord.  And while she looked forward to the destination with anxious anticipation, she did not enjoy the journey. 

Because it’s a wilderness journey.  Week by week, her body was losing strength.  Her appetite diminished, and food tasted weird to her.  Her body lost weight at an alarming rate.  She tried to stay cheerful and focused on the blessings in her life.  But I remember her telling me that some mornings she woke up feeling overwhelmed to the point of tears with the knowledge that her death is imminent.  I asked her what helped her get through the day.  She says only her prayers and the prayers of others.  And my Aunt Joan was a prayer warrior, let me tell you.  She had a faith that can move mountains.  But it was still a painful journey for her.

I thought about her journey as I looked at the lessons for today.  We start with the lesson from Joshua, where, after 40 years of wandering in the wilderness, the Israelites have finally arrived at the border of Canaan, the Promised Land.  If you’ll remember, they suffered as slaves in Egypt for many generations until Moses led them through the Red Sea and into freedom.  That was the easy part.  They then wandered 40 years through the wilderness on their way to the Promised Land.  During that time they had nothing but quails and manna to eat.  It was a gift from God, this dry, bread-like substance they collected to eat each morning.  But while it gave them the nutrition they needed, it was a tediously boring meal. 

Now Moses did not live to see their arrival at Canaan.  But he appointed Joshua, his second-in-command, to become the new leader of the people.  And as they stand at the entrance of the Promised Land, Joshua is the one who hears these words from God:

"Today I have rolled away the reproach of Egypt from you." So the name of that place is called Gilgal to this day.

The Hebrew word here is “galal”, which means “to remove” or “to roll away”.  Which is why God tells them to name this location “Gilgal” - the place where God rolled away their oppressive past in Egypt and allowed the Israelites to step into Canaan, leaving everything else behind - the forty years of wandering in the wilderness, the slavery they endured in Egypt.  It means that now they have a chance to start anew in a new place with a new generation of faithful people.  God rolls away their sins, rolls away the oppression, rolls away everything that had kept them from being free people. 

I thought, what a wonderful image - God rolling away generations of slavery in Egypt, pushing it back, the way the waters were pushed back at the Red Sea.  And in the previous chapter of Joshua, God rolls back the waters of the Jordan River so that the Israelites can cross over into the Promised Land. 

And from this point on, they will be fed not on manna, but on real food.  It’s no longer a meager meal of survival with just enough sustenance to get them through the day.  No, now they will eat from the crops of the land.  They can settle into a new life where they can rest and stay in one place long enough to plant seeds, watch them grow, harvest them and bake them into hot, fresh loaves.  No more bland, flaky crumbs gathered each morning with just enough nutrition to stave off hunger.  Now they can really feast!

And this theme of God rolling away the heavy burdens is repeated in the other two texts this morning.  Psalm 25 speaks about transgressions being forgiven and sin being put away.  And our gospel lesson is also about this “rolling away” of sin – Jesus rolling away the sin of this woman who comes to anoint him with fragrant oil.  All the hurt, humiliation and shame that this woman has endured has been rolled away.  At that spot where Jesus declares her sins forgiven - here is this woman’s Gilgal.  Her sin was rolled away and she was given new life!

Aunt Joan was on her way to Gilgal.  She was on her wilderness journey where her prayers were like manna - just enough to get her through each day.  But she had her eyes on the horizon, looking for Gilgal, where she knew she would hear her Lord say, “Today I have rolled away the reproach of kidney failure from you.”  And she knew she would step into that Promised Land where a banquet awaited her!  And the food will not taste weird!

So where will your Gilgal be?  Maybe you are in a place right now where you feel like you’re still wandering.  You’re just taking in enough sustenance to get you through the day.  You are longing to settle your soul into a new land of faith where you can rest and plant some seeds, watch them grow, harvest them and bake them into hot, fresh loaves.  You are tired of living off the bland, flaky crumbs that just barely give you just enough emotional and spiritual strength to make it through one more day. 

We’re longing for God to roll away the sins of this generation.  We would just love to hear God say that our reproach has been rolled way:

Wouldn’t you just love to hear God say:

"Today I have rolled away the reproach of the war from you."

"Today I have rolled away the reproach of climate change and environmental disasters from you."

"Today I have rolled away the reproach of divorce from you."

"Today I have rolled away the reproach of cancer from you."

"Today I have rolled away the reproach of death from you."

That’s what we really long for, isn’t it?  We want to see that stone rolled away from the tomb!  And by God, I can assure you that that day is coming!  On that day each person will stand at the new Gilgal, where the stone is rolled away, where new life begins, where the resurrection gives us a new creation.  On Easter Day we will stand at Gilgal and watch God roll the stone away! 

Yes, that day is surely coming, my friends!  But until that time, we are still on the Lenten journey.  We’re still waiting, still longing, still yearning for the fulfillment of that promise.  And this wandering in the wilderness can get even the most faithful Christian down.  Climate change, broken families, wars, sickness, kidney failure, and death can make your faith so weak and your heart so weary, you sometimes wonder how you’re going make it through one more day.

All we’ve got is manna, my friends.  

Yes, it’s just a bland, flaky crumb of a meal.  It’s not much.  But it’s just enough to get us through the day until we reach Gilgal.

Amen.

Surprise Party: The Prodigal

The Rev. Dr. Leah D. Schade

4th Sunday of Lent, Year C

Texts:  2 Corinthians 5:16-21; Psalm 32; Luke 15 1-3; 11b-32

Watch the video of this sermon here:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mX05OC02Wy4&feature=youtu.be

When people are asked, “What is your favorite parable of Jesus?” this story of the Prodigal Son is almost always mentioned.  It is perhaps the most well-known parable, and certainly one of the most beloved.  This story is so powerful because it has the ability to touch all types of people in different ways.  You can probably find yourself in this story.   Who do you relate to the most?  The father dealing with two feuding siblings?  The younger son who has made mistakes and is in desperate need of forgiveness?  The older son who feels he’s done everything right, and now watches this undeserving brother get the party that should have been for him?

We think of the younger son as the one who has “wandered and squandered,” separating himself from the love of his father and family.  But, in fact, the older son is just as starved and homeless as the younger son.  It is his pride and self-righteousness that separates him from the love of his father and family.  Ironically, both sons are yearning for the same thing - the love of their father.  

And this feast that the father calls for is his way of demonstrating and celebrating that love.  This feast, this extravagant meal, is the father’s way of saying, “Come to the table.  Your sins are forgiven.  Eat, drink, celebrate your fellowship with each other and with me.”

Sounds a lot like communion, doesn’t it?  We’re all invited to this party.  Our First Communion students learned about that this week as they prepared to receive the sacrament.  They learned that we all sin, we all make mistakes.  But because God loves us, we are invited to the table anyway.  We’re given a surprise party that we don’t deserve, but that sweeps us up into the grace of God. 

         

When was a time you were surprised with a gift or a party that you didn’t deserve?

When I think of that question, a story from my own life comes to mind.  It’s about a surprise  party that my family was having for me for my 16th birthday.  I’m the oldest of four, and so I can really relate to the eldest brother in this story.  I always played it straight, walked the line, was the good child in my family.  And my siblings were always getting in trouble.  And it always angered me how much they got away with.  In fact, I would have to say that my siblings and I did not get along well at all growing up.  This was especially true between me and the second oldest child, Ivy Jo.

Ivy Jo was a year younger than me and was born with some physical disabilities.  So she was confined to a wheelchair most of her life.  There was animosity between us probably from the moment my parents brought her home from the hospital.  I'm ashamed to admit, I was jealous of her because of all the attention she got with her disabilities.  And she was jealous of me not only of the abilities I had, but because I got all the positive attention while she got all the negative attention.  And the older we got, the more the bitterness grew between us.  We were, frankly, very mean to each other -- always looking for ways to insult the other, bring the other down.  We brought out the worst in each other’s personalities.

Because we were so close in age, we were only a grade apart in school.  While she had her set of friends and I had mine, our lines of friendship often overlapped at school and at church.  And we brought our animosity towards each other into our friendships.  So  it was, near the time of my birthday, that I noticed Ivy whispering behind my back to my friends.  I’d catch her talking to them, they would laugh, and then she’d scoot away as I came over.  She was trying to turn my friends against me! 

I’d ask them, “What did she say about me?”  And my friends would just shrug and say nothing.  I was so angry at them, and furious with her.  Over and over I would come upon her talking to my friends and then buzzing off in her wheelchair, obviously trying to aggravate me.  I confronted several times.  “Why do you keep talking to my friends?  Stay away from them!”

“I can talk to whoever I want,” she'd say.  “It’s a free country.”  And she’d have this smirk on her face that just drove me crazy.

This went on for a couple weeks.  Then one evening, my dad picked me up from a play rehearsal to take me to meet my aunt to celebrate my birthday with a nice quiet dinner.  He made an excuse to stop at a dance club called Zakies, claiming he had to pick up some papers for work.  We went into the club up to the second floor.  I walked through the door and heard, “SURPRISE!” 

There were all my friends from school and church all gathered together with my family in that room.  I was shocked to tears.  I couldn’t believe it!  How had they managed to pull this off without my finding out?  My mom told me that, of course they couldn’t send out any written invitations because I might find one by mistake.  So Ivy Jo volunteered to talk to each one of my friends and invite them to my party.

In a rush of emotion, it all became clear to me.  All this time I thought she had been sowing more seeds of hatred, when, in fact, she was giving me the gift of this party that I didn’t even deserve.  I went over to her and gave her a big hug and thanked her for what she had done.  I have a photograph of the two of us embracing, a look of tearful joy and excitement on my sister’s face.

I cherish that photograph.  Because 15 years ago, Ivy Jo ended her life with an overdose of prescription drugs. 

I’d like to say that things changed after that moment at the party.  I’d like to say that things were good between us from then on.  But, unfortunately, our relationship continued on a roller coaster of a few ups, and mostly downs.  At the end, we were not speaking to each other, and my sister had isolated herself from our family after we each pulled away.  She suffered not only from her physical disabilities, but from many emotional ones as well. 

Perhaps one of the reasons why I find the story of the Prodigal Son to be so poignant is that we do not know how it ends.  The elder son is faced with a decision that, in any case, is going to cost him something.  If he stays outside, he’ll retain his sense of righteousness and pride, the knowledge that he is right.  But that will cost him his relationship with his father and brother.  If he relents and goes into the party with his father, he will hopefully enjoy a reunion with his brother.  But it will cost him his pride and resentment that justify his self-righteous position. 

And even if he goes to the party, there’s no guarantee that that moment of embrace between the two siblings will be the happy ending everyone is looking for.  We don’t know whether the younger son will learn from the error of his ways and be a good, obedient son from now on.  Or if he will continue to take advantage of his father’s goodwill and goad his brother with his favored status.  We don’t know if the older brother will forgive his sibling for squandering the family inheritance, or will quietly resent him and act out his bitterness in small ways for the rest of their lives.

The only person we’re sure of in this family is the father.  The only person who has proved himself as consistently loving to both siblings is the father.  Some scholars have suggested that this story not be called the Prodigal Son, but the Prodigal Father.  Prodigal means “recklessly extravagant,” “wasteful,” “lavish.”  We call the younger son prodigal because he is recklessly extravagant and wasteful with the inheritance from his father.  But the father is prodigal, too -- recklessly extravagant with his love for both sons.

This is a father unlike any that Jesus’ hearers would have encountered during their time.  A wealthy man in the time of Jesus would never have acted the way this father did towards his children.  First of all, he would not so easily have given up the portion of his estate to his younger son without question.  It was an insult for the son to ask for it in the first place, because it implied that he regarded his father as dead to him already.  But without a word, he hands it over to the boy.

And then when the son finally does come back, the father is again scandalous in his expression of love.  A rich man would never run out into the street to embrace his pig-smelling, wayward son.  At most he would have whistled for his servant to escort the son home while he waited imperiously on the porch, ready to dole out the proper punishment for the boy’s misdeeds.  But this father makes an utter fool of himself for this child.  He runs with abandon to take the child in his arms, shower his dirty, smelly face with kisses, and dress him with fine clothes and jewels.  He lavishes a feast upon the boy, killing the fatted calf that should have been saved for some religious ceremony.

And that’s not all!  When his older child refuses to come into the party, the father, again, makes a fool out of himself.  He should have sent a servant out to order him into the party, “Your father says, ‘You will go to the party, and you will welcome your brother, and you will smile and enjoy yourself.’”

But no, the father goes out himself, pleading with his son.  No self-respecting rich man would beg his child like this.  And when this hot head sasses his father with such venom, he could have responded, “How dare you talk like that to me, you ungrateful boy.  Now get in there right this instant!”  But, no, he talks with him compassionately.  “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.  But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.”

And that’s it.  We don’t know how the son responds.  We do not know the end of the story.  The father has the last word.

And that is what finally gives me some measure of hope when I think of my sister.  We do not know the end of that story yet, either.  Right now, I am standing in a place where there seems to be no hope.  She is gone.  There’s no chance in this lifetime for me to reconcile with her, or her with me.  There is an awful feeling of regret and loss in this place.

Perhaps, you, too, have known that feeling.  Maybe you have experienced conflict with a sibling or a family member that has plagued your household for decades.  And no matter how you try, you keep coming up on dead-ends, painfully running into the same brick walls.

I think, too, about the painful conflicts in the larger human family.  Every time I hear about civil war in some nation, where countrymen and brothers hate each other to the point of murderous rage.  As I watch the deteriorating situation in the Middle East, where the Muslim and Jewish and Christian children of Abraham continue to slaughter one another.  Every time I hear about another terrorist attack, or a murder on the news -- I know that they are not so far removed from me, a pastor, who could not even reconcile with her own sister.

So where is our hope?  Where is the good news for us who, for whatever reason, find ourselves outside the party?

Our only hope is in that father.

Our only hope is in God -

          this God who lavishes undeserved love on both children,

          on Ivy Jo and me,

who makes a fool out of himself by coming to each of us where we are and inviting us back home,

                              surprising us with this undeserved party,

                              begging us to come to table.

This God who will go to even greater lengths than this,

 ultimately sacrificing his own life for us, to break our hearts,

and open our hardened spirits toward each other, reconciling these two sisters,

these feuding families, these warring nations.

Indeed, as Paul says, God in Christ is reconciling the whole world to himself,

not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us . . .

And so I know . . . I trust . . .

I have faith that God will have the last word.  Amen.

The Nightmare: An American Horror Story

The Rev. Dr. Leah Schade

February 28, 2016

Last night I had one of those vivid nightmares that begins like you’re watching a movie, but then you realize you’re in the story, living the horrible dream.  It was about a monster, a small creature that had been dug up from the ground.  It seemed almost cute in its ugliness at first.  

It was small but hungry.  It started eating anything it could find. It was put in a cage.  It ate and ate and ate, grew and grew and grew.  It started with just plants at first, but then animals – small ones, then larger ones.  It was ravenous, insatiable in its appetite. 

Eventually it was realized that it had to be put back in the ground.  It had to stay buried.  As long as it was buried, it would not hurt anything or anyone.  But dug up, it would continue to grow and consume.  It had no personality, no morals.  Its desire was only to eat and grow.  And it would eventually eat its own cage, get out, and consume the whole earth. 

So a whole troop of people took the caged monster – now huge in size – back to the place from which the unsuspecting person had dug it up.  It was a swamp-like place, dark and creepy.  We started to dig a hole big enough to bury the creature.  But as we dug, we made a horrifying discovery - a whole nest of sleeping, shrunken monsters in the ground.  It was a shrieking-violin moment, a sickening twist in the story.  But we dumped the creature into the ground and quickly covered him up.  He and the other creatures had no power against the soil once we started to bury them again.

We knew someone had to stand guard at this place from then on and protect against any other unsuspecting person digging up one of the creatures.  So from then on, the guardians patrolled the grounds, telling the story to all who came along wanting to dig. 

Reflection:  As I was writing this nightmare in my dream journal (I keep one by my bed), I realized the message immediately.  The monster is fossil fuels.  

They are ugly, but were cute at first.  We thought they could be caged, kept under control, used for our purposes.  But in the end, the thing we thought we were consuming is, in fact, consuming us.  It has a voracious appetite.  No personality, no morals.  It only wants to eat and grow.  The fossil fuel industry has gotten bigger and bigger and has become this horrible nightmare.  

It’s an American Horror Story that has spread around the globe.  It’s eating its own cage and consuming the whole earth. 

After years of keeping a dream journal and paying attention to the messages from my subconscious, I have learned to discern the messages.  Sometimes they are multivalent (having more than one meaning).  But the immediate message from this nightmare came through loud and clear:

The only way to deal with the monster is to keep it in the ground. 

It has to stay safely buried in the soil and guarded so that no unsuspecting person might come along and accidentally dig it up.  It will take vigilance.  But the monster of fossil fuels – coal, oil, methane gas – must stay in the ground.

Eco Ecclesia - Interview with The Rev. Dr. Leah Schade

Dale Lature is a video blogger with a passion for connecting ecology and the Church.  He is among a growing number of individuals who recognizes that environmental issues need to be addressed at the most fundamental levels of religion - in our theology, worship, preaching, education and advocacy.  In this new series, Eco Ecclesia, he conducts in-depth interviews with others doing this kind of work, and I am proud to be featured in his second episode.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Fhi12N1DBM

Dale notes that "the climate crisis is screaming for attention from churches," but observes that most denominations have very few resources available for congregants and only address the issue sporadically. "I'm not satisfied with an article every two to three months," he says.  "That doesn't say crisis to me."  He also recognizes that for those outside the church, the reluctance of the church to address ecological issues is "seen as yet another glaring omission in the church's life and work."

He asks some important questions:  Why is this so hard to talk about?  How can we not tell this story?  Over a period of about a year and a half, Dale and I have engaged in Skype conversations about these very questions which he has edited into this video.  While it is on the longish side, we tackle these questions with forthrightness and hope.

Here is a breakdown of the segments:

Dale's introduction and my background through minute mark 12:00

Discussing the term "eco-crucifixion" - 12:00 - 19:00

Ecofeminism - 19:00 - 24:00

Climate crisis as "blaspheming the Holy Spirit" - 24:00 - 28:00

Stages of "climate grief" - 28:00 - 32:00

Tower of Babel and capitalism - 32:00 - 37:00

Signs of hope, connection and community - 37:00 - 40:00

Dale's conclusion:  40:00 - 44:00

Islam, the Middle East and Christianity: Misconceptions, Facts, and Surprises

This is the forum I presented at my church, United in Christ Lutheran, Lewisburg, PA, on "Islam, the Middle East and Christianity: Misconceptions, Facts and Surprises." It's long (40 minutes), but if you're interested in seeing one approach to tackling this topic in a congregation, here's a model of how to do it. I'm also willing to share the Powerpoint with anyone who would like to use it in their context.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L5X64WBTcrc

You've Got Dirt on Your Forehead: Ash Wednesday Sermon

This article has been moved to:

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/ecopreacher/2018/02/dirt-forehead-ash-wednesday/

Thank you!

Healthy Pastor, Healthy Congregation: Why I’m Taking Steps to be More Committed and Accountable

This Lenten season I’m encouraging our congregation to take steps toward better health, healing and wholeness in mind, body, emotions and relationships.  And I’m taking this call seriously for myself as a pastor.  I recently learned from Portico, the Benefit Service provider for the ELCA, the serious nature of the overall health of ELCA clergy and what the church is trying to do to change it. 

Click on this link if you’d like to learn more: 
https://employerlink.porticobenefits.org/home/CallToLiveWell/FaithBasedWellBeing/WellnessReformation

Clergy have such high instances of stress, weight problems, hypertension and heart problems that it is becoming a characteristic of the profession.

Our health costs as a group are 23% higher than other comparable groups.  And this is reflected in the skyrocketing costs of health benefits for congregations.  Clergy work inmore stressful environments. And our population has a higher incident rate ofchronic conditions like diabetes, heart disease, asthma, kidney disease, and heartfailure.

One of the things the ELCA is asking clergy to do is to make lifestyle choices and changes that have tangible positive outcomes.  In response, this year I'm committed to being accountable to our Council and the congregation about the steps I'm taking to improve my health.  I will be including that information in my pastor's report, writing about it in my column for our newsletter, and designing a Lenten sermon series on "metanoia" - turning toward health and faith.  My hope is that this will model for our congregation taking positive steps toward better health for all of us, taking care of the temples of our bodies which God has entrusted to us. 

As I shared in a recent sermon, the Commandment that I break most often is the one about honoring the Sabbath.  Yes, I lead worship nearly every Sunday.  But I have not been taking a weekly day of rest for the last several months.  I am also not exercising as much as necessary.  Add to this the history of  heart disease, stroke and high blood pressure in my family history, as well as my own level of stress, and I realize that I could be a risk for the congregation and the church as a whole if I do not take steps to better care for myself.  So here are things I’m committed to doing in the coming year:

1. Sabbath:  Honor the day of rest once a week.  Usually this will be on Fridays.  On these days I will engage in the activities that strengthen my relationship with God, family and friends, and God’s Creation (taking walks, meditating, journaling, playing games with my kids, having “dates” with my husband, etc.).

2. Exercise: Add one additional day of high-energy exercise each week (in addition to my current practice of exercise once a week) and walking 20 minutes each day.

3. Nutrition:  Eliminate meat from my diet (I’ve committed to being a “pescatarian” - not eating meat, but allowing fish).  This is not only good for my health, but also for our planet’s well-being (see also, http://www.cowspiracy.com/facts/)

 4. Accountability:  Being accountable to these commitments in my monthly reports to Council and asking for their prayerful support and encouragement.

I pray that God may give me the will and the willpower to take care of the temple of my mind, body and emotions that have been entrusted to me, as well as the relationships that are a reflection of the Divine Love that seeks to enfold me in grace.

And if you are inspired to take steps in improving your own health in mind, body, spirit and relationships, I welcome hearing from you.  Supporting each other on this journey together will help us all live into our calling to take good care of the bodies, minds and spirits God has entrusted to us.