The worker must have bread, but she must have roses, too.
Rose Schneiderman, Feminist Labor Leader, 1912
Rose Schneiderman, Feminist Labor Leader, 1912
|
In today’s gospel, Jesus calls the people to repent because the “the kingdom of heaven has come near.” I talk about the phrase “kingdom of God” or “kingdom of heaven” quite a bit. In the past, I defined Kingdom of God/Heaven in this way. The kingdom of heaven is what the world will look like when God’s values reign, rather than the world’s values. And, honestly, that’s not a bad working definition. God’s values do rule in the kingdom of heaven.
But since the last time I’ve talked about the kingdom of heaven in a sermon, I’ve had a new insight. The word we translate as kingdom is the Greek word basilea. Basilea is most often translated as empire. Basilea is the word used when describing the Romans’ reign. So, what Jesus is doing here is setting up a stark contrast for the people living in the midst of the oppressive Roman basileia. He’s showing them something very different. He’s calling them to live, not in the basilea of Rome, but in the basilea of heaven. And how does Jesus set up this contrast? First, look at who he calls. In status conscious Roman culture, Jesus calls a bunch of dudes on a fishing boat. Fishermen might have a little more status than shepherds, but not MUCH more status. It’s very possible that Simon, Peter, and Andrew were illiterate. They were certainly barely educated, certainly poor. They are unlikely disciples - and they are the ones Jesus calls. Next, look at location. Jesus doesn’t hang in the center of power. He’s in the region of the Sea of Galilee. Nazareth didn’t have a great reputation. He’s hanging out where people are poor, and hungry. He’s in a place where people were experiencing the oppression of the Roman basilea, and he proceeds to show them how God’s basilea is different. How? Matthew tells us that Jesus: - Traveled throughout Galilee. - Taught in the synagogues. - Proclaimed the good news of the basilea of heaven. - Cured every disease and sickness among the people. What do these four things tell us? Jesus stayed where people were poor and struggling. He taught them where they were (and he was recognized as a teacher). He continued to point beyond the Roman basileia to the basileia of of heaven. He cured people of what ailed them. All of these actions directly contrast with the values of Rome. And on this annual meeting Sunday, they serve as helpful reminders about who we are and what we are called to do as those who follow in Jesus’ footsteps. Like Jesus, we are called to travel out beyond St. Thomas. For some of us that literally means going - whether it’s to a garage in Vienna to pack diapers for Fairfax diapers, to the grocery store to buy items for SHARE, to a Tysons Interfaith meeting, or to a rally in support of our immigrant neighbors, we are called to travel. This morning I read an account of what this looks like in real time. Lindsay Hardin Freeman is an Episcopal priest who lives in Minneapolis. She wrote the book Bible Women: All Their Words and Why The Matter that our Women Gathering group used for more than a year to learn the stories of biblical women. There’s an Episcopal Church in Minneapolis St. Nick’s/Casa Maria. They are organizing food deliveries to their immigrant neighbors who are afraid to leave their homes due to ICE. Lindsay and her husband signed up and arrived yesterday - and there were more than 100 cars waiting to do the same. These are Lindsay’s words: "We were assigned a family of three on the outskirts of Minneapolis. That’s all we knew. And that they wanted fruit. We went down the list and added items suggested by the food shelf. Milk. Vegetables: green peppers, onions, garlic. In-bone chicken, rice, beans and more. Because we’d called ahead, the recipient was waiting for us at the door of his apartment building. Shivering — in the -10 below cold. Standing by him was a little girl in a pink jacket and pink hat and black tights and a white tutu. No gloves. She smiled at me. I stayed with her as the car was unloaded. I could see the fear in the man’s eyes, letting his child stay with a stranger. She was about the same age as the children deported this week, flown to a concentration camp, excuse me, detention center, in Texas. And the man’s name? The shivering, hungry man’s name? Jesus.” We are called to teach. I know that makes some of you nervous - you think you don’t know enough. But, trust me. You know who God is. You know Jesus and his teaching. You know that our faith teaches us, among other things, to respect the dignity of every human being. You know what our common values are. You know what it means to be a Christian. These days, many people are teaching things that simply do not represent Jesus or what it means to be a Christian. When you hear that, teach. Speak up. Represent the basileia of heaven. We are called to proclaim. In the last few years, we’ve gotten good at evangelism at St. Thomas. Many of us have invited others to church. But proclamation is more than just inviting people to church. St. Francis is alleged to have said this, “Preach the Gospel at all times, and if necessary, use words.” It’s a good word. An analogous saying can be found in the 1960s Catholic folk song, “They’ll Know We Are Christians by Our Love” written by Fr. Peter Scholtes. So many Christians aren’t very loving these days. I’ve had many people outside the church tell me that they aren’t interested in Christianity or in Jesus because of how they’ve seen Christians behave. We can show the world a different face. How we treat the check out person at the grocery story, the person who cut us off in traffic, or even that one person here at church who gets on our last nerve matters. PROCLAIM, in word and in deed, the love of God through what you say or do.. We are called to cure. Jesus literally cured people who were sick. And some of us have a gift of prayer for those who are suffering in some way. (And if that’s you, and you’re not already a prayer buddy, talk to me!) But there are so many places where the world is hurting now. Take what you know and what you can do and make some small effort to CURE what is ill and broken. Preparing for our annual meeting is always a good opportunity to reflect on the past and to anticipate the future. I hope you have read the very impressive Annual Report for 2025. In it, you’ll see that there are so many places where we already TRAVEL, TEACH, PROCLAIM and CURE. There are so many places where we exemplify the values of the Basileia of Heaven. And as we move more solidly into 2026, those opportunities will continue. Part of the work our Vestry will do this year will be to help all of us discern how best to use the gifts God has given to each of us individually and as a congregation. There may be some things that we are doing that it’s time to set aside. And there may be new things we take on because of the gifts and interests here now. But, wherever that discernment leads, I know this. There are so many places in the world where it can be hard to find hope. Our hope rests in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. And we can bear hope into the world as his followers. Today, I want to close with the collect that we heard at the start of our service: Give us grace, O Lord, to answer readily the call of our Savior Jesus Christ and proclaim to all people the Good News of his salvation, that we and the whole world may perceive the glory of his marvelous works; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
0 Comments
1/23/2026 0 Comments A REFLECTION ON JOHN 4:1-42 FROM THE DAILY OFFICE LECTIONARY (AS READ BETWEEN JANUARY 21 AND 23, 2026)If you ask me to name my favorite book of the Bible, my instant and immediate reaction is the Book of Revelation (but that's a different post). But if you want to know my favorite Gospel story, it's this one. John tells us the story of Jesus' encounter with the woman at the well. There are many things I love about it.
First, it's unexpected. Jesus is traveling from Judea to Galilee and John tells us that, "he had to go through Samaria. But he didn't HAVE to go through Samaria. It's out of the way. It's mountainous. There are easier ways to go that don't involve going through what could best be described as difficult hostile territory. And then, Jesus engages with this woman of Samaria. There was long emnity between Jews and Samaritans. And there were rules about what was proper for interactions between women and men. Jesus breaks them all. We can learn pretty quickly that this woman is suspect. She comes to the well to draw water at noon, in the heat of the day. Why? Likely because her life has left her ostracized, socially isolated. Jesus tells her to get her husband and she says, "I have no husband." Jesus answers, "You are right in saying, 'I have no husband'; for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true!" We've been told to understand that this woman is a whore, of ill repute. Maybe. But it's also true that women had no agency in the first century. A husband could have divorced her for any reason. She could have been a widow. It's as likely that she's victim as a whore. She's likely a victim of male biblical interpretation throughout the ages, just as she was a victim in her own life. But here's the thing - and why I love this story. JESUS DOESN'T CARE. Whatever has caused her to be in her current domestic arrangement, it doesn't matter to Jesus. HE SENDS HER TO TELL HER WHOLE VILLAGE ABOUT HIM. And this makes her the first apostle (from the Greek - one who is sent with a message) in John's Gospel. Before James. Before John. JESUS SENDS HER. And I love what happens when she gets back to her village. "Many Samaritans from that city believed in him because of the woman’s testimony, ‘He told me everything I have ever done.’" I can almost imagine the crowd. "Honey, everyone knows everything you've ever done." But what happens? The whole village comes to believe in Jesus because of her testimony. John says, "So when the Samaritans came to him, they asked him to stay with them; and he stayed there for two days. And many more believed because of his word. They said to the woman, ‘It is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the Saviour of the world." This is my favorite gospel story because it clearly shows Jesus calling a woman to be the first apostle. It shows a woman with a reputation (deserved or not) being sent with a message. There is nothing that brings us out beyond God's love. There is no one who is unworthy to carry the story of Jesus. And this gospel proves it. On Monday January 5th, I flew to an undisclosed location because two women I knew were being detained by ICE and were being held in an ICE prison. (I'm tired of euphemism - its official name is a "Transitional Center." I did prison ministry when I served in New Hampshire, so I know that what I entered was a prison and not a "center.") These women are in the US legally. They have a pending asylum case. They were recently issued work permits valid through 2030. There is no reason for them to be held. And yet, they've been imprisoned since December 1, far from their home, their family, the jobs, and their church community.
Sitting in the airport and waiting to fly, I read Psalm 2: 1 Why are the nations in an uproar? * Why do the peoples mutter empty threats? 2 Why do the kings of the earth rise up in revolt, and the princes plot together, * against the LORD and against his Anointed? 3 "Let us break their yoke," they say; * "let us cast off their bonds from us." 4 He whose throne is in heaven is laughing; * the Lord has them in derision. 5 Then he speaks to them in his wrath, * and his rage fills them with terror. 6 "I myself have set my king * upon my holy hill of Zion." 7 Let me announce the decree of the LORD: * he said to me, "You are my Son; this day have I begotten you. 8 Ask of me, and I will give you the nations for your inheritance * and the ends of the earth for your possession. 9 You shall crush them with an iron rod * and shatter them like a piece of pottery." 10 And now, you kings, be wise; * be warned, you rulers of the earth. 11 Submit to the LORD with fear, * and with trembling bow before him; 12 Lest he be angry and you perish; * for his wrath is quickly kindled. 13 Happy are they all * who take refuge in him! Reading the Old Testament, particularly Joshua, Judges, 1 and 2 Samuel, and 1 and 2 Kings, you can see the story of the people of Israel develop. They move from being a nomadic tribe to a more settled nation. And they plead with God to give them a king like the other nations around them. They are sure that if they have kings, they will be more powerful. You can sense that they feel that they system of judges, with God as their true king, just doesn't have the weight, the heft, of an actual KING. Eventually, God gives them what they ask for. But before long, the kings are a disaster, ruling with their own interest at heart, rather than the good of the nation. Quite a bit of ink is spilled, in the psalms and in the prophetic writings, lamenting the selfishness of kings. We read about kings who fail to look after their nations. Kings who put their own interests above those they are supposed to serve. Kings who fail to do right. Kings prone to violence and tyrannical behavior. It wasn't lost on me that as I traveled to visit women being detained for no apparent reason other than their country of origin, that I was reading a psalmist's lament about the bad behavior of kings, of political leaders. The psalmist's words rang true. They serve as a reminder that leaders have a responsibility to act with justice and mercy. When I read this Gospel passage for the first time this week, it felt to me that there was a really obvious thing to say about it. So let me just get the obvious thing out of the way first. Jesus was a refugee. When He was still a toddler, his parents fled with him to Egypt to save his life.
The official definition of a refugee is one who flees their own country due to violence, environmental disaster, or persecution because of who they are or what they believe. That persecution could be based on race, political views, religious beliefs or practices, sexual orientation, gender, gender identity, or other forms of discrimination. There must be a credible threat to the person’s life or safety for them to be categorized as a refugee. For Jesus, the persecution was political. In the early part of our Gospel story this morning, we hears how wise men from the east come to King Herod’s palace in search of the newborn king. Their assumption was that a newborn king must be found in a place. But of course, there was no newborn king in Herod’s palace. Herod becomes unhinged. He’s totally threatened by the idea that there is someone with designs on his rule over Judea. He tells these magi to alert him to where this new king is so that he can worship him - but his secret plan is to kill the usurper. Joseph is warned in a dream to flee, so he and Mary escape to Egypt with Jesus. The threat Jesus was facing was real. In a part of the story we don’t hear today, when this newborn king (aka Jesus) can’t be found, Herod orders the killing of all the boys under two in the area where Jesus and his family were staying. Truly, the threat Jesus was facing was real. I sometimes don’t understand the lectionary shapers. Because there are a couple of OBVIOUS Old Testament passages that make clear the importance of Egypt in the story of the Israelites. They shed some light on why, beyond proximity, the Holy Family might have fled there. At multiple points in the Old Testament (see for example: Exodus 22:21, Deuteronomy 15:15, Deuteronomy 24:18, and Leviticus 19:34), God reminds the people of Israel that they were slaves and sojourners in Egypt and that they should treat those foreigners who live among them well. Here’s just one example, the passage from Leviticus: The foreigner who resides among you shall be to you as the native-born, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were foreigners in the land of Egypt. The obvious thing to say about this passage is that Jesus was a refugee who fled political violence. Scripture enjoins us to care for those who find themselves in our midst. This truth is very much on my mind as I prepare to travel to Florida tomorrow to stand with our sisters in Christ, as they have their habeas corpus hearing on Tuesday. That hearing is protesting their illegal detention. But there’s something else to say about this passage that, while less obvious, is equally important. Liturgically, we are still in the season of Christmas, the Feast Incarnation. We are still in the season where we celebrate the reality God took on human flesh and came among us as a fully human person. God came among us as one of us in the human person of Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus, who was born in a stable, a child of Joseph, who likely worked as day laborer to build the Roman city of Sepphoris. God came among us as one of us and became a refugee before he was three. And ultimately, God came among us as one of us and was crucified by the Roman Empire. Crucifixion was the most shameful and painful way the Romans used to kill those they deemed a threat. And they crucifixion to send a message to anyone else who was considering rebelling against Rome. It was a threat. Don’t rebel, or this could happen to you. The good news of the incarnation is that God came among us as one of us in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, to enter fully into the human condition, to be with us in all that we face in this life. In the incarnation, God entered into the messiness of humanity. Through Jesus, God experienced the mundanity of daily life, the joy of family life, the love of friends, and the pain of family separation. Through Jesus, God experienced some of the worst things that can happen to us as humans. Through Jesus, God truly experienced what it means to be human - the best and the worst. Why is the Incarnation Good News? It means that God is with us in the messiness of our own lives. When life is feeling good and joyful, God is with us. When the bottom falls out from under us, God is there too. God knows what it means to be human and walks with us in the stuff of life. Sometimes God’s presence is easy to feel. I can definitely look back on my life and remember moments when I felt God’s presence with me. I felt God’s presence when a way opened up towards ordination, as I struggled through a difficult ordination process. I sensed God’s presence the day I met David and throughout our subsequent courtship. I first came to know God from my father, and what he taught me about faith, with his words and his actions. These were moments where I felt the presence of God with me. But there were also times when it felt like God was totally absent from me. 1996 was a very difficult year. In early January, the bookstore I managed burned to the ground. That same summer we elected a bishop in Western Massachusetts who did not believe that GLBTQ+ persons should be ordained. I served on that search committee and his floor nomination and subsequent election was a blow to all of us. Then, in November, my dad died. He’d entered hospice, but no one expected his death to come as speedily as it did. For more than a year, I felt like God was beyond reach, on the other side of a wall. What kept me going in that terrible year, as hurt upon hurt piled upon hurt, was the support of my community of faith. St. James Episcopal Church in Greenfield, Mass buoyed me up, prayed for me, and supported me in countless ways. Their support didn’t magically solve my sense of the absence of God. But their loving support, and the knowledge that they were praying for me when I could not pray outside of Sunday worship, sustained me. One of the things that I love about this congregation is that I see that same loving support in all of you. I see it in your prayerful support of our sisters in detention. I see it in how you support one another when life is rocky for whatever reason. I see it in your support of our larger community. I see it in your commitment to justice for people all around the world. It’s not that we are perfect. There are certainly times when we don’t get it right. But this love we have for one another is our DNA. It’s our commitment. The Good News of the Incarnation is that God came among us as one of us. Through the person of Jesus, God experienced the best and worst that life had to offer. And then, God gave the gift of the Holy Spirit, and through that gift empowered us to continue God’s work in the world until Jesus comes again. Amen. 1/1/2026 2 Comments Blog ResurrectedWell, it's been a minute since I've posted anything here!
I was motivated to revisit this blog because it connects to one of my goals for 2026. I am returning to the spiritual practice of praying Morning Prayer daily. (For those outside liturgical church traditions, Morning Prayer is a set of prayers along with a cycle of psalms and scripture readings. You can find a simple version online here if you are curious.) But I don't just want to read, I also want to reflect on some of what I read. So you'll find some reflections on the Daily Office Lectionary here. I'll also share sermons and other things I write in this space. We'll see how it develops. I sometimes hear from people that the Bible is an ancient text that has no relevance for our daily lives. I totally disagree. And after only a few days reading the readings assigned for each day, I find plenty in our scriptures that speak directly to our current experiences. I look forward to sharing this journey with you. |
AuthorI'm Fran Gardner-Smith. I'm an Episcopal priest, a wife, a grandmother, a feminist, a writer, and an artist. Archives
March 2026
Categories |
RSS Feed
