Foundry UMC DC: Sunday Sermons

Untwisted Perspective - March 20th, 2022

Untwisted Perspective

A sermon preached by Rev. Ginger E. Gaines-Cirelli at Foundry UMC March 20, 2022, Third Sunday in Lent. “Roots of Resistance” series.

        Texts: Luke 13:1-9

From a recent article in the New York Times highlighted the news that people in Russia are receiving about the war in Ukraine. “The narrative disseminated online through state-run and unofficial channels has helped create an alternate reality where the invasion is justified and Ukrainians are to blame for violence.” For many in Russia, this is the only story they receive, the only perspective given for what is happening. In our own context, we have more perspectives to sort through than we can manage. If we’re wise, we are careful about the mix of our sources for news of the day, finding some semblance of balance about what’s really going on. 

But a balanced diet of perspectives doesn’t keep us from losing the most important one. As people of faith, there is always a larger perspective, a more profound frame through which to read the headlines. And it’s easy to lose that larger vision and “get twisted” in our perspective. I believe that keeping a nuanced faith perspective in times of crisis and challenge is among the most important spiritual practices we can nurture. Without it, we become unmoored from the story of God’s mercy, compassion, justice, and love. We lose the assurance that we are part of a great cloud of witnesses who continue to participate with God who is always at work for good in the world. We forget that we have a responsibility to participate in God’s good work. And that, as in every other time of crisis, from the beginning of all things, God will help us.

The classic liberal protestant notion is that we should read the newspaper in one hand and the Bible in the other; that is, read the headlines of our lives and of our day with a Spirit-led, Jesus-focused lens so that we might find some guidance about how we are called to respond. 

Today our Gospel gives us an example of how Jesus reads the news. Jesus responds to two headlines of disaster:  both were news stories of people who died unjustly and tragically, one in a political massacre and the other through a tower collapsing. One way our ancestors—and many in our modern world—try to make sense of these painful and confusing events is by assigning cause and effect. For example, those folks who were brutally killed by Pilate must have been worse sinners than others or must have done something to deserve that kind of punishment. According to this way of thinking, if you are killed unjustly or randomly or tragically, it’s your fault.  God is punishing you.  

Jesus reads it differently, saying, “do you really think these people were being singled out because of their sins, or that they died because they’re worse than anyone else?  Of course not!” With both examples, Jesus unequivocally denies the cause-effect nature of the deaths. But there is also a “but…” But if you don’t repent, if you don’t change, then you can expect consequences. When Jesus says that unless we repent, we will perish just as those in the Biblical examples did, he is not saying that God is out to get you and is going to make you a victim of some awful tragedy if you don’t shape up. After all, he has just rejected that kind of response. So what is Jesus talking about? 

Just before what we receive today in Luke, Jesus teaches about the need to trust God and to live a life according to the love, care, mercy, justice, and humility of the Kin-dom of God (Luke 12:13-48). Jesus tells the story of a rich man building bigger barns to store his crops and then dying with no “treasure stored in heaven.”  Jesus teaches about attendants who need to be ready, keeping their lamps lit, as they await the bridegroom’s return. Jesus teaches about the servants who have been given responsibility for their master’s possessions, but who are cruel and frivolous and thoughtless; the master will show up when they least expect it and will see what they are doing (or not doing). In all of this, the teaching is: do what matters most today; live a life of deeper trust and surrender today; do justice today; be prepared to meet your maker, be ready to come face to face with God. This is what leads up to Jesus’s reaction to the news in our passage today.  

The people who perished died in different ways—one was an act of brutal violence the other a “natural” catastrophe. The thing that both scenarios have in common was that the deaths were not expected—they came upon people unaware. When Jesus says that unless we repent, we will perish just as those in the Biblical examples did, it seems to me that the point is that no matter how long we live and no matter how we die, we might very well come to the end of our days without being ready to go. 

Perhaps some folks will hear this as a fearful message.  But it is really an invitation. Jesus is calling us to repent—to turn away from—anything that keeps us from living each day as one who is “ready to go,” as a person who has their relationships cared for, who has as little unfinished business as possible, as one who is living a life they wouldn’t be embarrassed to lay before God.

Jesus encourages us to “read the news” of crisis or challenge in our lives and world not with an eye to placing blame, finding a scapegoat, and identifying upon whom our vengeance should fall (common responses!). Instead, Jesus wants us to take responsibility for our own selves. We are challenged to respond to the injustice, pain and need in the world with honesty and conviction about what we can or should do, about where things need to change in our own lives, about what we need to learn from what has happened so that we might incorporate that learning into our lives. 

Jesus follows up the questions about untimely deaths with the parable of the unfruitful fig tree. A couple of notes about fig trees: fig trees absorb an especially large amount of nourishment and therefore can drain the earth of nutrients, depriving other plants of sustenance. Further, according to Levitical Law (Lev. 19:23), fig trees were given three years’ growth in order to become “clean.” We are told that the gardener has been looking for fruit on the tree in question for three years. That means it’s been six years and this tree has produced no fruit. It is alive, but it’s not doing anything much or being anything much. It’s just taking up space, wasting the soil. Japanese poet and Christian peace activist, Toyohiko Kagawa wrote:

I read

In a book

That a man called

Christ

Went about doing good.

It is very disconcerting to me

That I am so easily

Satisfied

With just

Going about.

The fig tree is “just going about” and, therefore, is in danger of being cut down before it has really lived the life it was created for. This tree, all of a sudden, becomes a symbol of us in all the ways that we waste our chance to flourish, the ways we live that may leave us at our end not being “ready to go.” But does the tree get destroyed by a vengeful God? The story Jesus tells here is one of grace. The tree is not destroyed, but rather is given a second chance and more—it is given “fertilizer,” given what it needs to be able to bear fruit.

As we confront difficult realities in our lives and in our world—imagine reading the news through the lens of the Jesus who tells this and so many stories of grace, who reminds us that every day—every moment—of life is precious and an opportunity live with love and care. Read the news with the Jesus who came to preach good news to the poor and to set the prisoners free, who broke religious rules for the sake of love, who crossed all the boundaries of race and tribe, who hung out with those whom others despised, the Jesus who was himself unhoused and an asylum-seeker from a murderous political tyrant. Read the news with the Jesus who loved children, who railed against the tyranny of empire, who saw the gifts and potential of every person, who practiced what he preached, who forgave even those who had betrayed, denied, and killed him. As we “read” the painful and troubling headlines of our lives, look through the eyes of Jesus. Doing so will not only highlight the need for repentance in our lives and in the world, but it will also ground our response in the grace and mercy that flows from God’s self-giving love. God’s grace and mercy enfolds us through every circumstance of our lives, giving us strength and courage to persevere, to change, to hope, to go about doing good, to live each day “ready to go.” And that is Good News after all…

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Fear Met With Love - March 13th, 2022

Fear Met With Love

A sermon preached by Rev. Ginger E. Gaines-Cirelli at Foundry UMC March 13th, 2022. “The Roots of Resistance” series.

Text: Luke 13:31-35

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A Strengthening Word - March 6th, 2022

A Strengthening Word

A sermon preached by Rev. Ginger E. Gaines-Cirelli at Foundry UMC March 6th, 2022. “The Roots of Resistance” series.

Text: Luke 4:1-13

 

You’re a Firework! - February 27th, 2022

You're a Firework!

A sermon preached by Rev. Ginger E. Gaines-Cirelli at Foundry UMC February 27, 2022. “Shine On!” series.

Text: Luke 9:28-43

You’re a Firework!

A sermon preached by Rev. Ginger E. Gaines-Cirelli at Foundry UMC February 27, 2022, Transfiguration Sunday. The last sermon in our “Shine On!” series.

Text: Luke 9:28-43

It is common on Transfiguration Sunday for preachers to focus on what the disciples experience on the mountaintop—the way Jesus’ face and clothes “dazzlingly” change and the appearance of Moses and Elijah talking to Jesus about his upcoming “departure.” 

But today I want to focus on the next part of the story, what happened when they’d come down from the mountain. Evidently, while Jesus was busy praying and preparing for his exodos (ἔξοδος, Greek for departure or death), a man brought his son to the disciples who’d remained in the valley, desperate that they should save the child. But they couldn’t do it. Jesus was, to put it lightly, disappointed—in a way that may seem harsh. After all, disciples of Jesus aren’t…Jesus. I’ve often heard it’s not fair to say that we are expected to live, love, or serve like Jesus since Jesus had the whole “God-human” thing going for him. But that’s a cop out.

Because Jesus was clear that his disciples were to follow directly in his footsteps. At the beginning of the chapter we read from today you’ll find, “Jesus called the twelve together and gave them power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases, and he sent them out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal.” (Lk 9:1-2) And then, when more than 5,000 people who’d gathered to hear some good news and receive healing got hungry, the disciples wanted to send them away. But Jesus said to the disciples, “you feed them.” And in the chapter following our story today, Jesus appoints 70 more to go out and proclaim the Kin-dom and heal! (Lk 10:1,9)

Recently as part of my spiritual practice for Black History Month, I’ve been drawing inspiration from the wisdom of Marian Wright Edelman, human and children’s rights activist, founder and President Emerita of the Children’s Defense Fund, and a part of the Foundry family for many years. She says this: “A lot of people are waiting for Martin Luther King or Mahatma Gandhi to come back—but they are gone. We are it. It is up to us. It is up to you.” 

In this moment when a new war has broken out, racial, economic, and environmental injustice continues to thrive, divisions grow wider and more fortified, and shadows of helplessness and hopelessness threaten to overtake us—the voice of God speaks from a different kind of shadow, the overshadowing cloud at the mountaintop, and calls us to listen to Jesus! And again and again, in a variety of ways, Jesus says to us: It’s up to you. YOU are called to proclaim in word and deed the good news of God’s Kin-dom and to be an agent of healing grace for bodies and spirits. Jesus knew he was not long for this world. He knew he would be gone. And he started saying it early: it is up to you! You feed them. You heal the suffering children… You proclaim love and justice… You stand up to the bullies and tyrants… You heal, mend, and make gentle this bruised world. Jesus honors disciples through the ages, honors each one of us saying, “I’m going away—don’t wait for me to come down the mountain or wait for me or any other leader to return before you get to the work that is yours to do. You are made to reflect the life of God, to embody the love of God, to shine with the courage, peace, and hope of God just like me.” 

On this transfiguration Sunday, we see a “dazzling” Jesus on the top of the mountain. The word translated “dazzling” is the Greek exastraptó which means “to flash or gleam like lightning, be radiant.” And all the stories surrounding this mountaintop moment reveal to us a very important truth: Jesus isn’t the only one made to dazzle, to gleam like lightning, to shine. We who follow Jesus can try to make excuses, but we are given grace to live, love, and serve in the way of Jesus.

To reflect the life of God and truly dazzle in the way of Jesus doesn’t just happen. That has been a theme for our reflection since the beginning of January. We began this season of Epiphany focused on the light of the star that shines on our path as we seek the Holy One. I said, “The nearer you are to the beating heart of God’s love and life, the more you will ‘come alive’ (as Howard Thurman says), the more you will shine with God’s love.” We gathered the next week to remember our baptismal covenant, and to celebrate that by the grace of God we are siblings of Jesus, part of the “Beloved” clan, and incorporated into the mighty works of God’s saving love and mercy in the world. And each Sunday following, we have reflected on the practices that make up our covenant with one another in this community: prayers, presence, gifts, service, and witness. We have been reminded that all these practices are ways we grow in grace and in capacity to live, love, and serve like Jesus. We don’t do any of it alone. Spirit empowers and guides us, and we support one another on the way. 

I’ve been hearing from some that having been separated from congregational life and the habit of regular worship, things feel strange upon return, the weirdness of what we do and how we do it (compared to everything else in the world) is set in stark relief. I’ve been told that folk find themselves asking whether there’s any point to regular engagement in a spiritual community. What possible difference does it make in a moment of tragedy and madness such as this one? I understand this. And I wonder what I’d be feeling and doing were I not in the role and vocation I inhabit. 

But I must say that the Wesleyan way of personal and social holiness and transformation, of disciplined practices with an emphasis on grace, of insistence upon authentic connection with others who share the path—this Way of living faith, hope, and love makes a difference. It can be a life-sustaining resource in moments when we are on the edge, in grief, or suffering. It can form and inform persons who understand that it’s up to us to carry and shine the light of God’s love and justice in our lives and in the world—wherever we are and through whatever means are available to us. It can strengthen us to resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves. I am persuaded that our life together matters, our communal witness matters, our best efforts—even when we aren’t at our best—matter. 

I know this may feel exhausting since the realities of the world are so heavy. The disciples didn’t think they could do what they were called to do. They didn’t realize yet that we have all been made to dazzle, to “gleam like lightning.” And as I’ve struggled myself over the past weeks (and months) to hold on to Jesus’ call to be brave, to be hopeful, to be and to share myself fully with and for others, to keep showing up and doing what I can where I can, I’ve drawn energy and encouragement from a song and video released by Katy Perry almost 12 years ago but timeless in its message. It feels to me like Gospel:

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag
Drifting through the wind
Wanting to start again?
Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin
Like a house of cards
One blow from caving in?

Do you ever feel already buried deep?
Six feet under screams, but no one seems to hear a thing
Do you know that there's still a chance for you
'Cause there's a spark in you

You just gotta ignite the light, and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July

'Cause, baby, you're a firework
Come on, show 'em what you're worth
Make 'em go, "Oh, oh, oh"
As you shoot across the sky

Baby, you're a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make 'em go, "Oh, oh, oh"
You're gonna leave 'em all in awe, awe, awe

Jesus calls us and gives us the grace to be a firework, to dazzle. “It’s always been inside of you, you, you. And NOW it’s time to let it through.” The world needs us to shine. And Jesus believes we’re able. So what are you waiting for? Shine on together, my friends, SHINE ON!

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Kin-dom Economy - February 20th, 2022

Kin-dom Economy

A sermon preached by Rev. Ginger E. Gaines-Cirelli at Foundry UMC February 20, 2022, the seventh Sunday after Epiphany. “Shine On!” series.

Text: Luke 6:27-38

Even after all this time,
the sun never says to the earth,
“You owe me.”
Look what happens
with a love like that:
it lights the whole sky.”

This poem attributed to the Sufi poet Hafiz is a beautiful illustration of what Jesus says in our Gospel for today. Again and again, Jesus names things that, according to the world, would expect or require a certain “payback.” In the world, if someone hurts you, hurt them back. If someone speaks ill of you, you give your version of a smear campaign right back. If your property is taken, take it back. The worldly relational economy is tit for tat, an eye for an eye, an economy of gifts only on loan, always with fine print, an economy of debts to be paid and always with interest. 

But, as Pastor Kelly pointed out last week, in Jesus’ sermon “on the plain” what Jesus says is directly counter to worldly expectations. Not only does he teach not to seek “pay back” for harm. He says love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Like the sun who never says to the earth, “you owe me…” This is a whole different economy. This is a Kin-dom economy.

These provocative teachings of Jesus can easily get twisted. And “turn the other cheek” and “love your enemies” have been used to encourage persons in abusive relationships to stay and continue to take the blows. That is not the point and it must always be spoken aloud when these verses are shared in public. Jesus isn’t saying that to be a good Christian you have to be a doormat for abusers or remain in a life-threatening relationship. Jesus is teaching an ethic of love based on the love of God for us. This ethic of love calls upon each of us to claim their own sacred worth, voice, dignity, and agency such that we know we deserve to be treated with gentleness and care; AND, when we’ve been hurt, to not “go low” by retaliating in kind. But to “go high,” maintain dignity, and choose not to return evil for evil, hate for hate, or violence for violence.  

It’s also easy to twist these teachings of Jesus such that we focus on the “reward” that’s promised. Upon quick review, it may sound like Jesus is saying that if you don’t judge other people, they won’t judge you; or if you don’t condemn others, they won’t condemn you; or if you give, without expecting anything in return, you’ll get it all back because you’ve been so good. But let’s be serious. You can hold your tongue, work hard to be gracious toward others, give generously of yourself and your resources to other people and they can turn around and betray, hurt, and judge you. Sometimes others might do unto you as you’ve done unto them. But so often in the world, it’s harm that gets reciprocated. Mercy, generosity, and kindness, aren’t as regularly given back. So what do we do with that? 

Notice in verses 35 and 36 that the reward isn’t coming from other people. The reward comes from the grace of God present and active in you. The reward for following the teaching of Jesus is that you aren’t living beneath your dignity. Or, said positively, the reward is that by allowing the love, generosity, and mercy of God to be manifest in your life, you are reflecting God, you are being merciful as your Mother/Father is merciful, you are living as the child of the Most High that you are. 

This is among the powerful insights Howard Thurman illuminates in his book, Jesus and the Disinherited. Thurman is painfully aware of the ways that Christian teachings about heaven, forgiveness, love and the like can sound like a call for Black Americans and others with their backs against the wall to stay there, to forgive their oppressors 70-times-7, and wait for liberation in the great by and by. But Thurman is insistent that Jesus’ teaching is “a technique of survival for the oppressed” and calls for “a radical change in the inner attitude of the people.” Thurman claims that “anyone who permits another to determine the quality of [their] inner life gives into the hands of the other the keys to [their] destiny.” When others “go low,” what do you allow that to do to your inner attitude? This focus on the inner attitude is not about disconnecting from the real suffering and injustice of the world, but is rather a way of not being utterly destroyed by it. It is a way of maintaining dignity and agency when everything around you wants to steal or destroy those sacred gifts. Thurman highlights Jesus’ teaching that, regardless of our outward circumstances, we have agency of our inner attitude. Our inner attitude affects our outward response and action.  

Over the past number of weeks, through both sermons and witnesses from siblings in the Foundry family, we’ve been focusing on the spiritual practices that are part of our covenant as Foundry UMC. These practices are all ways that we attend to, nourish, strengthen, and form our “inner life” and attitude. You don’t just wake up one day and have the inner resources to persevere in peace, love, and dignity in adversity. You can’t just click your ruby slippers and grow in love or capacity to trust. Because everything in the world around us trains us for retaliation, for defensiveness, for quid pro quo. 

Part of John Wesley’s genius was creating a system and method to assist human spiritual growth, to create spaces and intentional community where people like you and me can regularly put ourselves into the flow of God’s unending grace, love, and mercy and, as a result reflect more of God in our lives. Practices and partners with whom to share the journey are key. We need one another. Prayers and scriptural reflection, presence in worship and small groups, generosity and faithful financial stewardship, service of all kinds, and being and sharing a witness to God’s grace are practices we promise to share as part of this beloved community. Foundry is only as strong as these practices among us. When any one of them is neglected, the strength and vitality of our communal life is diminished. Over the past number of years, we have worked to systematically strengthen the resources that help us practice and live out all the parts of our shared covenant. 

As part of that work, the Foundry Board has set as an ongoing priority that we work to deepen our understanding of generosity as a spiritual practice and to increase awareness of the ways that we can practice faithful financial stewardship. I like to remind us that financial giving is one of the most profound ways we practice Jesus’ Kin-dom economy instead of the worldly economy. The worldly economy is transactional, an economy where the Sun would throw the moon in debtors prison and jack up the interest rates just because it was possible. There are some who bring this way of thinking about giving into faith community. They figure that if they are giving, they should get to stay in control. “I’ll give, IF…”

But part of the spiritual practice of giving is to loosen our grip. When we give to support the shared life, mission, and ministry of Foundry, we do so in relationship with one another. It is an interaction, not just a transaction. As a member of the Baltimore-Washington Conference delegation to General Conference, I’ve been engaged in Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion training. Our trainer, Dushaw Hockett, highlights this distinction between interaction and transaction. Interaction is being in mutual relationship with someone we perceive as a sibling and fellow child of God. Transaction is using someone, more like a thing, to try to get what you want or think you need.

When we give, it’s in the context of mutual, covenant relationship. We allow our gift to flow into the community of which we are part and within which we have a voice and agency. We can participate in crafting and creating vision and mission. But the gift we make isn’t ours to control. It isn’t given to hold the community hostage. It isn’t about only getting what we ourselves need. It’s about creating community that provides for the needs of the whole family as much as possible—and that then reaches out beyond the family to do justice and kindness in the world. 

The spiritual practice of generosity in financial giving is risky. It can make us feel vulnerable and afraid that we won’t have enough. So much in the world’s economy trains us to be afraid and to do whatever we can to assure our own comfort and sense of safety. The Kin-dom economy—the upside down way taught by Jesus in the sermon on the plain—encourages us to practice being uncomfortable and vulnerable for the sake of others, for the cause of love and justice, for the common good. It encourages us to trust that, together with God and one another, we will always have enough. 

Just look at what happens when our gifts shine with the love, grace, and generosity of God. They give light to the whole world!

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