Sermon, "CreatureKind," Isaiah 11:1-9

Sermon 7/31/22

Isaiah 11:1-9

CreatureKind

I’m thankful for Pastor Joyce’s invitation not just to be with you in worship today, but also, more specifically, to talk to you about what led me to become a vegan and to commit to a focus on animals in my studies. I first became a vegetarian in college, years before I became a pastor, but in all of my years of ministry, I’ve never actually focused on why I’ve chosen the path of veganism in a sermon, and so Pastor Joyce’s invitation was a welcome request to think about sharing a passion in this particular way. Because indeed, for me, veganism is a spiritual commitment, and a part of expression of faith. 

Before I dive into this topic, though, I want to try to set you at ease. Food - what we choose to eat and why - that’s a really intimate topic. Even though we all eat, every day, for a variety of reasons, what we choose to eat is a topic that has been burdened with a lot of expectation and pressure from society and culture, from our well-meaning friends and family, and from ourselves. We wrap together what we eat with what we’re worth. We judge the food choices of others and we certainly judge ourselves. We struggle with disordered eating. And we blanket food with shame. I want to be clear that although I’m sharing about my journey, and how my relationship with food and animals is part of my faith commitments, I do not seek to shame or judge anyone who makes different choices than me. Food is a necessary part of life. But food, nourishment, is also a gift from God, and a source of joy, a blessing of community. My hope is that we all might experience food as just those things.

I first became interested in animal ethics when I was in high school. My older brother Jim had recently become a vegetarian. I was curious about his decision, and he told me he knew he wasn’t willing to kill his own food, and if he wasn’t willing to do the work of bringing meat to his plate, he didn’t want to eat it. He felt like we, particularly in the US, were disconnected from where our food comes from. I kept thinking about that, and watched him shift what he was eating, and then when I was a freshman in college, I followed in his footsteps and made the switch. My initial motivations, then, weren’t particularly spiritual in nature, but I quickly started to think about my decision in terms of my faith, because that’s what I tried to do with all of my life decisions: consider what God was calling me to do. 

The Bible has lots of different messages about animals. In the creation accounts in Genesis, God directs people to eat plants, but not animals. After the flood though, God says people can eat animals too. There are many laws described in the Torah, the first five books of the Bible, that give specific instructions for animal sacrifice as an offering to God, or for animals that are off limits to eat, considered unclean for one reason or another. Animals are included in Sabbath rest. In the text from Isaiah we shared today, the prophet imagines a future of peace, symbolized by loving relationships between animals and humans and predators and prey. When the prophet Jonah is sent to Nineveh to warn them of God’s judgment, humans and animals alike engage in acts of repentance. In the gospels, Jesus multiplies fish and loaves for the crowds, and directs his followers on fishing practices. He talks about the value of birds and flowers to God. Paul writes about the whole creation waiting with eager longing for redemption. Peter has a vision where God tells him he can eat animals that Peter thought unclean, for the sake of building relationships with new Gentile followers of Jesus. There’s no single message about animals in the Bible. But, they’re obviously important, since they’re mentioned so frequently. And God created them and called them good. So what can the role of animals in the BIble tell us? What can we conclude about our relationship with animals? 

Several years ago, I was presenting a sermon series on women in the Bible and I was preaching about Deborah and Jael in the book of Judges. Jael, if you aren’t familiar, is the woman who helps Deborah and the Israelites to victory by driving a tent peg through the skull of the sleeping military commander who was taking refuge in her tent. A very pleasant story. And I was struggling to figure out what to say about this memorable passage: what “lesson” did I want people to take away. And one of my colleagues reminded me that my task is to make sure I’m sharing the “good news” in the text, wherever it is to be found. That simple reminder helped me a lot that Sunday, and has helped me a lot in my preaching life since then. When we read a text, where’s the good news - the gospel - the message of Jesus? Where’s the message of God’s unconditional love? Where’s the transformational power of God’s reign on earth, right here and now? Where’s the good news? 

When I come to the scriptures thinking about animals, I have, at heart, the same question. Where’s the good news for animals? Is there good news for animals? If animals aren’t included in good news, why are they left out? And if they are, what does that look like? The founder of the Methodist movement, John Wesley, actually had something to say about my questions. Surprising to even to this staunch United Methodist, I learned just in the last couple of years that John Wesley spent significant time exploring the place of animals in the New Creation, the reign of God, in a sermon dedicated to the topic titled, “The General Deliverance.” Wesley insists that creatures have a place in heaven, where they, like human creatures, experience renewal and restoration. He writes, 

The whole brute creation will then, undoubtedly, be restored, not only to the vigour, strength, and swiftness which they had at their creation, but to a far higher degree of each than they ever enjoyed. They will be restored, not only to that measure of understanding which they had in paradise, but to a degree of it as much higher than that ...  The liberty they then had will be completely restored, and they will be free in all their motions … No rage will be found in any creature, no fierceness, no cruelty, or thirst for blood. (1) 

So, Wesley argues that: all animals are restored completely to their full selves in the new earth - not even just to the form and life they had in paradise, but something even better than that. They’ll be freed from both being recipients and perpetrators of cruelty. The suffering animals experience on earth will cease to exist in the new earth and heavens, and animals will experience “happiness suited to their state” “without end.” Further, he says that animals receive recompense for all they once suffered, and they’ll enjoy perpetual happiness.Thus, Wesley says, since God includes animals in God’s plan of redemption, we too ought to show mercy to animals. We should “soften our hearts towards the meaner creatures, knowing that the Lord careth for them.” 

In light of Welsey’s understanding of the place of animals in eternity, part of God’s redeemed creation, for me, part of the way I embrace God’s reign and redemption now is by seeking a life for animals now that mirrors what Wesley hopes for their eternal future. Any way we can embody God’s eternal reign in the here and now is what I think the good news of the gospel is all about. If God plans on redeeming all creation, including animals, and if God shows mercy even to animals, we can try to enact now as much as possible (on earth as in heaven, we might say) the vision we believe God has for the future. For me, veganism - eliminating all animal products from my diet, is a way that I try to embrace God’s reign, so that all creation might thrive now. 

In my school work and in my work with a Christian animal advocacy agency called CreatureKind, I’ve also been coming to understand more and more how concern for animals deeply ties in with my concern for people, particularly people on the margins. Rev. Dr. Chris Carter, a United Methodist pastor and professor in California, talks about how the systems of domination that try to show a sharp divide between humans and nonhuman animals are the same systems that also make a sharp divide between the ideal human: white heterosexual men in our culture - and humans who don’t “measure up”: women, people of color, and anyone else who isn’t the white male ideal. In fact, often, one of the ways people have belittled humans who “don’t measure up” is by comparing them to animals, animalizing them, trying to take away their humanity. I hope it is clear that this whole system - a system that creates an ideal human image that includes only certain races and genders and classes and types of people, and then makes everyone else less-than - is far outside of God’s vision for us, and for the earth. Instead, in love, God creates us in God’s own image, a part of the whole creation, all of which God calls good, and all of which God longs to see flourish and thrive. And so, for me, when I commit to compassion for animals, I’m also recommitting to pursue justice and right relationship with my human neighbors too. The deeper I dig, the more I see my commitment to animals as part of my practice of faith. 

I return to our text from Isaiah 11: 

The wolf shall live with the lamb,

the leopard shall lie down with the kid,

the calf and the lion and the fatling together,

   and a little child shall lead them.

7 The cow and the bear shall graze,

   their young shall lie down together;

   and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.

8 The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp,

   and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den.

9 They will not hurt or destroy

   on all my holy mountain; (NRSV)

This beautiful vision  is a text we normally hear at Advent. Perhaps we can only embrace such a vision of the future like Isaiah’s near Christmas, when our hearts are full and we’re anticipating welcoming the Christ Child. But I wonder: what is your vision of how things will be in eternity? And, if we pray that God’s will was done on earth as in heaven, what can you start doing now to bring God’s reign ever closer to earth? However each of us answers those questions, let’s do our best to be about the work of making our dreams with God a reality in the here and now. Amen. 

1. Wesley, John. “The General Deliverance.” Sermons on Several Occasions Vol. V. New York: Ezekiel Cooper and John Wilson, 1806.

2. Excerpts drawn from a blog post of mine, https://www.facebook.com/unitedmethodistanimaladvocates/posts/176050987624111. 

Sermon for the Fifth Sunday after Pentecost, Year C, "We've Heard of You," Colossians 1:1-14

Sermon 7/10/22

Colossians 1:1-14

We’ve Heard of You

“I’ve heard of you.” That simple sentence can be construed in some very different ways, ways that are completely opposite in implied meaning. When we say we’ve heard of  someone, we can kind of imbue that with a positive or a negative meaning, can’t we? Oh, I’ve heard of you - as in, “I’ve heard all the bad things about you, I’ve heard about what you’ve done, or what you haven’t done that you were supposed to do. Your reputation - your bad reputation - precedes you.” Maybe even now you’re thinking of someone that would make you say - or at least think - oh, I’ve heard of you in this tone. 

Or, “Oh, I’ve heard about you! People who know you speak well of  you. I’ve wanted to meet you. I’m excited to meet you.” Can you think of someone you were excited to get to meet, to know, because of all that you’d heard about them in advance? Whose good reputation precedes them? Whether or not the stories we tell about each other might cross the line from simply sharing our experiences to something more akin to plain old gossip, the reality is that we hear lots of things about lots of people, sometimes before we even meet them, don’t we? And what we hear of someone fills us with expectations about how our encounters with them will go. Sometimes our expectations are off base - but nonetheless, if someone has a reputation - good or bad - that we’ve heard of in advance - we form impressions of those people in our hearts and minds. 

When Pastor Anna asked me to preach this week, I looked over the lectionary texts for this Sunday - the schedule of scripture readings suggested for the Church year, and I was drawn immediately to our text from Paul’s* letter to the Colossians. In his letter to the community of believers at Colossae, he starts as most of his letters start, with prayer and thanksgiving for the faithful congregation he’s addressing. “In our prayers for you,” our text begins, “We always thank God for you.” What particularly caught my attention was the repeated focus on who has heard of what in this passage. Paul starts by saying, “we have heard of your faith in Christ Jesus; we have heard of the love you have for the saints.” (Saints were and are, really, anyone made holy by their relationship with Christ.) And then he says that the Collosians have heard of the hope that is laid up for them in eternity. Here, Paul means not just something they can claim in an afterlife, as he’ll explain later in this letter. Rather, Followers of Jesus claim the hope of eternity in the present, because they die and live with Christ. (1) The Colossians have heard of - and hope in - and experience a taste of eternity in the now. Paul goes on to say that since the day the Colossians heard of the gospel, the good news, their lives have been bearing fruit. In other words, there are tangible results from their discipleship, from their hearing the gospel. They heard and, and they are living it. Finally, Paul says that since the day he and his team heard of the faithfulness, of the love in the Spirit, of the fruit-bearing disciples of the Colossians - something Paul heard from Epaphras, who has been serving and ministering with them and corresponding with Paul - since he has heard all this about the Colossians, Paul and his co-laborers have been praying for their community, praying that they would be filled with knowledge, with an understanding of God’s wisdom, that they might continue to bear good fruit and grow in faith. Paul has heard good things about the Colossians. And they have heard and committed to living out the gospel. And in turn, Paul can only imagine and pray that they will continue to bear the fruit that comes from following Jesus, heart and soul. 

So my attention was drawn to all the “hearing” in this text because I have heard of you! I’m friends with Pastor Anna, and when you decided, as a congregation, to become a Reconciling Congregation, I saw her post of celebration on Facebook. She wrote, “If there is only one thing you hear today, let it be this: You are loved. I am so humbled to be the pastor of this church. What a statement!  What a love!  What a witness! Now the real work begins.” I’ve heard of you! Pastor Anna is often celebrating your faithfulness in her posts online, and this one really stood out. When she invited me to preach, it was the first thing I thought about: ooh, they just became a Reconciling Congregation! And if that’s what I’m thinking, I can only imagine how much of an impact this must have on people who have felt excluded from the church, or hurt by the church - for LGBTQ people to know without a doubt that they are welcome here: I bet many people have heard of you, and are making note of the welcome you’re extending. It’s so important. I have heard of you and your faith, and the fruit of your discipleship. 

Of course, what people have heard about us, and what we hear about them - it might not always be accurate. We should never assume we know a person’s character based on rumors about them. Still, though, what Paul says in his letter to the Colossians lines up with the kinds of things that Jesus says in the gospel. We’ll be known by our fruit - what is the fruit that our lives, our discipleship, is producing? If our lives are bearing good fruit, this is what people will hear about us. In fact, bearing good fruit, the evidence of our discipleship, of our commitment to following Jesus, is so important that it is part of our official membership vows in The United Methodist Church. We pledge to practice our faith through our prayers, our presence, our gifts, our service, and our witness. I think of the word witness as a kind of synonym to showing the fruit our faith in Christ produces. Think of a witness at a trial: a witness tells what they’ve seen happen. As Jesus-followers, we witness to what Jesus has done in our lives. We don’t have to do this with words, like door-to-door evangelists. Instead, I think the most persuasive witness we have is the fruit our lives bear - what we do, how we live because of our faith, because of our seeking to journey in the way of Jesus. 

So, friends, what have others heard of you and your faith? What fruit are they seeing that is growing in you? What is the witness your life is giving? If your life isn’t yet bearing the fruit you wish it would, what could you do to make sure that your actions are better aligning with your values, with your commitment to God? And, who is supporting and encouraging you in your journey, like Paul supported and encouraged the Coloassians? Who do you need to thank for lifting you up, and letting you know of the good they’ve heard of and seen in you? 

I also want us to look at things from “the other side.” What good fruit are you seeing from someone else’s faith journey? Whose faith have you heard of? And how can you give them a blessing of encouragement? Are you holding them in prayer? Not just saying, “I’ll keep you in my prayers,” but really lifting them up to God in your hearts? Who can you encourage as Paul encourages the Coloassians?  

Friends, I have heard of you. I have heard of your faith, and Pastor Anna’s faithful leadership, and I give thanks for you. I have heard of the love that you have for all the saints, and it makes a difference. I have heard of your good fruit that is growing in the world. What have you heard? And what is your life saying to others? May our lives be a witness to the life-giving, unconditional, and world-changing love of God. Amen. 

*I acknowledge that the authorship of Colossians is contested, but that authorship is not particularly relevant to this sermon. 

1. Schellenberg, Rayn, “Commentary on Colossians 1:1-14,” The Working Preacher,  https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-15-3/commentary-on-colossians-11-14-5

Sermon for the Fourth Sunday after Pentecost, Year C, "The Hard Way," 2 Kings 5:1-14 (Proper 9C, Ordinary 14C)

Sermon 7/3/22

2 Kings 5:1-14

The Hard Way

I’ve been thinking about the way we talk about whether the situations we experience in life are hard or easy and what kind of value we place on those words. For example, sometimes we talk with disdain about someone trying to “take the easy way out.” Or we might say, “Oh, that person had it so easy.” Right now, for example, I’m preparing for some exams in my schoolwork, and I feel like it has been a lot of work. But there are some students (including my roommate)  in a different area of my program,  - the people who are in Biblical Studies - and their exam structure is much different than my area’s exams. And I will admit I’ve said something along the lines of “you have it so easy” to my roommate. On the other hand, we might say, “hey, take it easy!” if someone is getting too angry about something, or giving someone else a hard time. We might say, “go easy on them!” if we fear someone will give another person too severe of a reprimand or punishment. We talk about the value of hard work and hard workers. But we also sometimes find ourselves wondering at someone: why do you have to do everything the hard way? When we see someone making a situation complicated that could have been very easy, we’re baffled. I think of my mom: she has a terrible sense of direction. But she can memorize how to get from one place to another. But she can’t connect the different sets of directions she’s learned. So sometimes she’ll drive from point A to point B - a path she knows - and then from point B to point C - another path she knows - when it actually would have been much faster and simpler and easier - to go directly from point A to point C. I’d say she’s doing things the hard way. Of course, for my mom, navigating a new path is the hard way, and going on a path she’s memorized, even if it is longer, is the easy way. Either way, it seems we don’t have a clear or consistent sense of whether we think people should be trying to do things the easy way or the hard way. Are they foolish for making things harder than they need to be? Or lazy for trying to take the easy way out? We don’t seem to know. 

I’ve been thinking about the hard way and the easy way as I studied our scripture text for today. In the book of 2 Kings, a history book of the Bible, we read about a man named Naaman. Naaman was a commander in the army of the king of Aram. Aram was an enemy of Israel, and the Arameans have caused a lot of “violence, loss of life, homes, and livelihood, and untold suffering to the people of Israel.” (1) Naaman, as their army’s commander, would have been disliked and feared, to put it mildly. 

Naaman, we read, has leprosy. Leprosy is a word used in the Bible to describe several kinds of diseases, especially skin diseases. You might remember that in the gospels, Jesus heals lepers, who were sometimes ostracized from society, considered unclean because of their disease. But that kind of isolation, separation from community usually only happened in advanced stages. (2) Although Naaman has leprosy, it hasn’t yet kept him isolated from society. Still, he suffers from his disease. 

And then, an unexpected figure intervenes: a child, a young Israelite girl, who has been captured and enslaved by the Arameans, is a servant to Naaman’s wife. As with so many women in the Bible, we don’t learn this young girl’s name. But, despite her circumstances, she speaks up with boldness, telling Naaman’s wife that there is a prophet in Samaria who could cure Naaman’s leprosy. In other words: in the lands where she came from, in the lands where Naaman has been leading violent acts of war, there is someone who could cure Naaman. A cure is at hand - but what a hard way to have to get it - from your enemy! 

Still, Naaman seizes the opportunity. He tells the king what the young girl has said, and the king sends Naaman and a letter to the king of Israel, along with a hefty “payment” - silver and gold and supplies. In the letter, the king of Aram asks the king of Israel to cure Naaman’s leprosy. 

Receiving the letter, the king of Israel seems to feel helpless. He, the king, cannot heal Naaman, and he feels like the king of Aram is trying to start a fight. The king of Israel seems to dread that this is all some ruse for further acts of military aggression against Israel. But Elisha, a prophet of God, hears about the letter. Elisha is the successor to the prophet Elijah, and he, like Elijah, is known for his relationship with God, for his ability to demonstrate God’s power and authority. Elisha tells the king to have Naaman sent to him. So, Naaman and his entourage and all the gifts from the king of Aram locate to Elisha’s front entrance - but they don’t go in. And Elisha doesn’t come out Perhaps Elisha, though ready to act in his role as prophet - doesn’t want to invite someone who has harmed the Israelites so deeply into his home. (2) And perhaps Naaman is not eager to show himself in a position of weakness, and doesn’t want to have to be a “guest” inside Elisha’s house, relying on Elisha’s hospitality. So even though Naaman is at Elisha’s door, Elisha sends word to Naaman through a messenger. Elisha says, “wash in the Jordan river seven times, and you’ll be clean, you’ll be healed.” 

Rather than rejoicing at this news of a cure, Naaman is angry. He’s angry that Elisha didn’t come out to speak to him, angry that there was no spectacle where Elisah called on his God, and waved his arms around to make a cure. He’s angry that Elisha seems to imply the waters in Israel are curing, but not the waters of Aram. He’s enraged. He’s ready to leave, uncured, unwilling to try. But his servants boldly speak up. They say to him, “if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, “Wash, and be clean”?” In other words, “why are you making things so hard?” Naaman finally concedes. He goes to the Jordan, washes seven times, and, just as Elisha says, he is healed completely. 

That’s where our text ends, although there is more to the story that you can read in the rest of chapter 5. Naaman commits to worshiping Elisha’s God, and wants Elisha to accept all the gifts he has brought. Elisha refuses any payment but sends Naaman in peace. However, a servant of Elisha’s named Gehazi is filled with greed, upset that Elisha let Naaman off so easy without taking any of the gifts Naaman brought. He tricks Naaman into giving him some of the items after all, and when Elisha finds out about the deception, he curses Gehazi with the leprosy that once clung to Naaman.  

When I read this story, I’m struck by how Naaman was sure that the means for his healing had to be complicated and difficult. And I think he was sure of that for two reasons: first, I think Naaman believes that someone of his status - a prestigious military leader - someone of his status would “deserve” a complicated healing ritual, complex and dazzling and befitting of his importance. Surely, he should have to do something special that “ordinary people” wouldn’t have to do. And second, and perhaps more importantly, I think Naaman has this idea that God makes us “jump through hoops,” so to speak, in order to receive healing, wholeness, salvation. Surely, God can’t just offer something as a gift without strings attached! So Naaman can’t believe that he can be healed of something that has plagued him for so long because this God that Elisha serves is more generous that Naaman can understand. 

What about you? What about us? I wonder if we’re so different from Naaman. Sure, hopefully we don’t believe that we’re so special that we require God to work for us only through dazzling displays of power. But I think we, too, sometimes can’t believe that God is ready to be so easily generous with us, especially when we feel undeserving of God’s generosity. I think when we’re tempted to make bargains and engage in mental negotiations with God, if we could just get God to do what we want, we’re choosing the “hard way.” We’re imagining that we have to manipulate and persuade God into doing what we want. Instead, God seeks to do not necessarily what we want, but that which will bring us life, abundance, wholeness, peace, and joy, and God wants to do it out of love, goodness, and generosity. The “easy way” with God is to trust God and put our lives and hearts into God’s hands. So often, though, we make things harder, expecting God to behave in the same sort of ways we act with each other, always keeping track of status and position and power. 

The other aspect of this text that strikes me is how we see power and status at work throughout the story. We have two kings, a general, a prophet, and several servants, including a young captive girl far from home. The king of Israel, leader of a nation, expresses his sense of powerlessness. What could he do to help? He can only lament that he is not God - he doesn’t have God’s powers, and without that, he sees nothing he can do to help. He only sees potential danger, despite an enemy seeking aid from him. On the other hand, anonymous servants, unnamed, who should be the people with the least power, are the ones who make almost everything in this story happen. Naaman only accepted the “easy way” of healing offered to him by Elisha because of his servants boldly speaking up. And of course, he only knew about it because of an enslaved child. I’m not sure what motivation they all had for helping Naaman. Naaman wouldn’t have known what he was missing. But even though they seem to be “powerless,” despite their low status, these servants, this young girl - they are the reason that Naaman is healed. Sure, Elisha offers the healing treatment. And yes, God is the healer. But in this story, the servants are the ones with the wisdom, and the kings and typically powerful leaders are the ones who seem afraid and helpless. 

When we are feeling powerless, unable to change the world around us that seems so very broken, what if we remembered this young girl, who despite her status, claims her agency and takes action? And what if, when we’re sure that we have the power and status and know what’s best, we learned to listen to wisdom from those who usually get overlooked? After all, that’s the way of Jesus, who teaches that the first is last and last is first, the exalted are humbled and humbled are exalted. In our broken world, whose voices have we been drowning out? Whose voices, whose wisdom, should we be listening to? In what unexpected places can we find the voice of God, speaking through others? Who has knowledge and wisdom that could help us draw closer to God? What are we missing out on by only listening to voices at the center, that represent power or status or position? 

The hard way, the easy way. Which way does God want us to take? I don’t think the answer to that is, well, easy. But hopefully our journey with Naaman, Elisha, and these bold, unnamed, but not forgotten servants, helps us to claim both our own wisdom and power, when we need to speak up against injustice, when we need to witness to the ways we see God at work in the world. Hopefully their voices help us to listen for the wisdom and knowledge we’ve overlooked when we put ourselves or figures of power and position at the center and neglect those on the margins. And hopefully, our journey with Naaman and his quest for healing reminds us that we are children of a God who loves us and seeks our thriving, giving to us with generosity and joy. Whether our way is easy or our path is hard, God is with us. Thanks be to God. Amen. 

1. Haslam, Chris, “Comments,” http://montreal.anglican.org/comments/cpr14m.shtml

2. Hawk, L. Daniel, “Commentary on 2 Kings 5:1-14,” The Working Preacher,  https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-14-3/commentary-on-2-kings-51-14-8