Archive for the ‘The Rev. Dr. Jessica Chicka, University Chaplain for International Students’ Category

Sunday
June 2

For Us

By Marsh Chapel

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Mark 2:23–3:6

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Sunday
May 26

Metaphorical Understanding

By Marsh Chapel

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Good morning, Marsh Chapel! I hope you have been enjoying our beautiful warm weather this holiday weekend. I personally spent several hours yesterday sitting on the BU beach behind the chapel enjoying the beauty of late spring while working on this sermon. I’d like to thank Dean Hill for inviting me to preach today, even if it is t\Trinity Sunday, notoriously one of the most difficult topics to preach about. But, I’m up to the challenge if you all are! 

We’re entering into a new season here at BU – the class of 2024 has graduated, the campus is slightly less bustling than it was a few weeks ago, and we all have a little more breathing room as the slower pace of the summer creeps in. We find time to catch up on our reading and to do some professional development, preparing for the next year. We also have a little more breathing room outside of work for those things that bring us joy and help us learn a new skill or develop a new interest. In my spare time, I have been working on my own self-improvement. Almost three years ago, I jumped back into re-learning German. Now, I had studied German in middle and high school, even into college with the thought that I might be a German major. There’s something I love about the orderliness of the language. It’s almost like an equation to put together a sentence. My drive to get back into learning German, apart from the academic needs I have, was mostly based in relationship. My best friend moved to Germany about eight years ago and she had never studied German. So, as she was learning a new language, I too found myself yearning to go back and relearn what I had forgotten. 

I chose to go the path of Duolingo. For those of you unfamiliar, Duolingo is an app that basically gamifies language learning. You earn points for each lesson you complete. You compete with strangers in “leagues” to have the most points at the end of each week. You try to keep up your daily practice streak, earning badges and accolades along the way. If you’re lucky enough, a kind friend will add you to their family plan so you have access to Super Duolingo, which allows you to make as many mistakes as you want and to not have to watch ads. Does anyone here use Duolingo? Ok, well, not to brag or anything, but I’m on a 1064 day learning streak with 44 weeks in the Diamond League. I know that sounds like nonsense if you don’t have the app, but trust me, it’s very impressive. 

One beautiful thing about the German language (and yes, I know that it’s often made fun of for sounding harsh and brutal) is how words are formed. You see, one could make the case that Germans are very literal people. When they need to make a new word for something, often times they will take already existing words that sort of explain the meaning of the word and smoosh them together to form a new word. So, for example, Waldsterben, literally forest death, is a term used for tree decline in the 1970’s. Another example, Kümmerspeck, literally, “worry bacon,” means the fat one gains from stress eating. Of course, there are also other words that we know in English that can only be said in German – Shadenfreude, literally “damage or harm joy”, the joy one experiences at the misfortune of another. Or Zeitgeist, literally “spirit time”, meaning the feeling of a particular moment in time. I’m sure there are other examples you can think of in other languages as well, but as I’ve primarily studied German, these are the ones I can point to. It’s how German ends up with compound words over 50 letters long (the longest is 79 letters – I’m not going to try to pronounce it for you, but it is related to how a law should regulate the transfer of monitoring tasks of beef labeling and cattle identification. 

The reason that I bring up the linguistic stylings of German words is because it shows how two different, separate words can point to a third meaning while still giving a hint of what the original words stood for. As a learner, it certainly makes it easier to remember what more complex words mean when the root words point to that meaning by their own meanings. The new word both is and is not what the two (or more) root words mean. We don’t exactly have the same usage in English – we’re more likely to come up with a new word rather than sticking two words that describe the thing together and saying that’s the word for it. The funny thing about language is the nuance it carries with it. Native speakers get that nuance. We understand the idioms of our language pretty clearly most of the time and expect that others will also understand those phrases. Working with international students, however, I’ve found that it’s important to evaluate our own language use. Even if you think you’re speaking in a way that’s clear, idioms seem to sneak in unknowingly, leaving those who are not native speakers confused. For example, saying that you’re “pulling someone’s leg” may seem obvious to those who have grown up speaking English, but if you think about what that phrase means literally and what it means figuratively, it’s hard to explain how you mean that you’re only joking, not literally pulling someone’s leg. Language can also serve as a barrier to understanding, especially when that language is used metaphorically. 

Throughout the Bible, metaphor is used frequently to explain the attributes of God. God is a rock. God is a mountain. God is a Fortress. God is Love. Jesus is the Word made Flesh. Jesus’ body is the bread and wine. The Holy Spirit is the breath of life. Most notably for this day is our conception of God as Father, Jesus as Son, and the Holy Spirit to compose the triune God. While these separate pieces may function in different ways, Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer, for example, in our theological understanding, they are all one. It’s the “great mystery” of Christianity. We understand that these three attributes of God are all God equally, but it’s hard to fully comprehend how 1 + 1 +1 = 1. Language limits our ability to talk about God because God is beyond our conceptually abilities to describe completely. God is defined, in a way, by our relationship with God, which defies complete linguistic capabilities. The 20th Century French philosopher, Simone Weil, states succinctly how challenging it is to know God in our limited capacity as humans: 

“There is a God. There is no God. Where is the problem? I am quite sure that there is a God in the sense that I am sure my love is no illusion. I am quite sure there is no God in the sense that I am sure there is nothing which resembles what I can conceive of when I say that word.”1 

Weil’s assertion is that human being’s ability to properly conceptualize what God is is impossible because of the limitations of language and our own human thought processes. There is not absolute certainty in her thoughts about God because she is aware of these limitations. God is so completely other than us that we do not have the adequate language to speak about God’s nature except in slivers of what we can compare it to.  

That’s where metaphor helps us. Just like the construction of German complex nouns, metaphors are ways of describing something by pointing to what it both “is and is not.” A metaphor creates relational tension between the word being used and the actual thing it is describing. So yes, God is Love, God is the source of love, but God is not just love. God is a rock, in that God is a solid foundation, but God is not literally a rock. Theologian Sallie McFague makes the argument in her book Metaphorical Theology: Models of God in Religious Language that we need to recognize that “metaphor is the way we think, and it is the way the parables – a central form of expression in the New Testament – work.”2 Metaphor isn’t just some literary device used for poetry and artistic thinking, but is the basis for how we think about the world – we naturally relate things to others by their similarities. It’s how we know an apple is red, a stop sign is red, BU’s color is red. The definition of “red” is based on comparison. We build models, whether we know it or not, that aid us in understanding the world. It is also the way that we connect with the Divine. McFague’s central argument in her book by recognizing this use of metaphor in all of our language and particularly in the language of scripture, Christians should develop a series of flexible models of God that allow all people to conceive of the Divine in multiple ways. By doing so, theology is not limited to one dominant viewpoint that can become either idolatrous or irrelevant to the experiences and contexts of Christian worshippers. For example, while the traditional trinitarian model of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit may be comforting and relevant for some, we must recognize how it also alienates and has been weaponized to oppress marginalized peoples.  

The Gospel of John is rife with metaphorical language. The Gospel of John is often credited with being the most poetic of the gospels, using literary devices to allow for the mystery of God to be maintained while telling a narrative story about the life of Jesus. In fact, right at the beginning of the Gospel, we find metaphor “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1). And then later in verse 10, John tells us that the Word (Jesus) came into the world, but the world did not know him. The tension of being recognized in the world, but not fully understood makes Jesus into a living metaphor in the Gospel of John. The entire presence of God is shrouded in this mystery as the book progresses. We see some of that mystery in the scripture selected for today. 

In today’s Gospel, Nicodemus, a leader in the Jewish community, comes to Jesus and states, “we know that you are a teacher and that you come from God.” Nicodemus thinks he understands Jesus’ place in society because of the things he has witnessed about him – he teaches, and the things he appears to know and do only could come from a divine source. He and the other Pharasees think they know who Jesus is, but Jesus points out that what they think they know is not truly them understanding what his role is, nor how it relates to God and the Holy Spirit. When Jesus speaks of spiritual birth, being born from heaven, Nicodemus is confused – how could someone who is grown be born…again? Jesus’ meanings, like so many times in the Gospels, seems obscured, leaving those he talks to confused or bewildered by his statements. The poetic language Jesus uses to explain himself, God, and the Holy Spirit, the three in one form of God, is meant to provide a framework for those he encounters, but also to reminds them of the divine mystery. 

So, we are not alone in our confusion about the Trinity, or how to properly conceive of God. Nicodemus doesn’t understand who or what Jesus is doing or how this relates to the bigger picture of God’s presence in the world. Of course, as we look upon this writing, we know how Jesus’ ministry will progress and how his death and resurrection will demonstrate his role as savior. But that doesn’t mean we aren’t still allowed to feel challenged by God’s nature. It’s here that we need to establish the difference between knowing and understanding something. Knowing usually means having an awareness of something, whereas understanding is a higher level operation of thinking that allows for interpretation, processing, and then application of that awareness. Nicodemus knows that Jesus is a teacher, he is aware of the things Jesus has done to earn that label, but Nicodemus does not understand that while Jesus is a teacher, a teacher in this situation is so much more than explaining facts. Jesus’ ministry brings people into the kingdom of God (another metaphorical idea) and allows them to be spiritually reborn. Jesus’ metaphorical language is bound by human understanding, but pushes Nicodemus and us to think of God as much more than what we can conceive. 

Theologians continue this work grounded in the parabolic and metaphorical nature of the scriptures. I mentioned earlier that Sallie McFague’s metaphorical theology aims at creating a framework for thinking about God that allows for multiple models. Each of these models is grounded in a particular starting point, a root metaphor. For the apostle Paul (and Martin Luther) it’s justification through grace by faith. For Augustine it’s radical dependence on God alone. For Paul Tillich, it’s the ultimate concern hidden in the pentultimate concern.3 Out of these root metaphors, then systems of metaphor develop that point back to that root metaphor. So if the primary thinking about God is as a liberator, the metaphorical language used to describe God, such as justice and righteousness will be used more heavily to support that position. There can be multiple ways of thinking about how we relate to God and what that relationship means in our daily lives. What McFague is addressing through this approach to theology is that the metaphors used for God do not become idolatrous or irrelevant to the point that it becomes easy to feel disconnected from the divine. Language is always shifting and is context dependent. Our experiences of the divine should shape the language we use to describe God, rather than being stuck in one mode of understanding. Yes, we rely on tradition as it connects us with the historical church and ways of worship throughout the ages, but we can also use our new experiences and understandings of the world to help us better understand our relationship with the divine through our language. Our models for God help us expand our relationship with God by mirroring God’s expansive presence in our lives. 

Take, for example, these series of describing the Trinity from the communion liturgy from my own Lutheran tradition for today: 

Holy God, Holy One, Holy Three, 

Our Life, our Mercy, our Might, 

Our Table, our Food, our Server, 

Our Rainbow, our Ark, our dove. 

Our sovereign, our water, our wine, 

Our light, our treasure, our tree, 

Our way, our truth, our life.4  

The Trinity is all of these things, and yet at the same time none of these things. Metaphor points us in the direction of God’s qualities, but faith helps us to better understand what those qualities mean for us in our lives. The unfamiliar becomes more familiar as we strive to use the limitations of language to articulate the feelings we have in our relationship with God. Despite our inabilities to fully understand God, we can take comfort in God’s unwavering grace and love. The scripture tells us of this love: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.“ (John 3:16-17) Let us celebrate our relationship of love with God, who is and is not all that we can say. Amen. 

 

Sunday
January 7

Beginning

By Marsh Chapel

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Mark 1:4-11

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Sunday
October 1

What to do?

By Marsh Chapel

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Matthew 21:23–32

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Grace and peace to you from God our Creator and our Lord Jesus Christ. 

Good morning, Marsh Chapel! It’s a pleasure to preach on this World Communion Sunday. It’s been a very busy start to the school year around here. All of the ministry staff have been working hard to reach out to students, offer our weekly fellowship groups, and establish the kind of care and compassion that religious life offers to the BU campus. Annually, we have two events that take place around this time of year. One is apple picking, which took place yesterday. We shuttle about 40 students to Westward Orchards out in Harvard, MA for a few hours of apple picking, some shopping in the small country store, and of course, fresh apple cider donuts. I heard this year was fantastic – unfortunately I couldn’t make it because I had a little thing called a sermon I needed to finish. 

The second event is something you’ve probably heard mentioned many times if you’ve been attending worship here for a while. The event is Spiritual Paint Night. We hold at least one each semester, welcoming students from across the campus for an evening of unstructured creativity. Started by my predecessor and friend, Rev. Brittany Longsdorf, Spiritual Paint Night isn’t like one of those sip and paints or painting classes that you can do at a restaurant or a bar. There isn’t instruction on what to paint. Instead, students are given a canvas and brushes, a palette and paint. They’re told to paint what they want. They’re told to focus on the process of creation rather than the outcome. No “mine isn’t good enough” no expectation that that it has to replicate anyone else’s work. Just time to meet new people, eat some snacks, get creative, and support each other in admiring one another’s efforts. 

The unofficial patron saint of these evenings is perhaps the most well-known American artist of the 20th century. It’s estimated that he painted well over 10,000 paintings. Even though his popularity started 40 years ago, most people in the United States, including young people who weren’t born yet when he was alive, can identify him and know what he’s most famous for. His iconic permed hair and denim outfits have been parodied over the years, but not without a profound sense of respect. If you guessed that this artist who has reached sainthood in our eyes is Bob Ross, then you’d be correct. We know Bob Ross for his gentle instructions on the PBS show “The Joy of Painting” which aired from 1983-1994. Each time he’d tell his viewers, who may or may not be completing that week’s painting with him, what tools and paints they would need to have their own creation at the end of each 30 minute episode. He’d then go on to instruct, reminding viewers that the canvas was their own little world in which they got to make the decisions, he would just provide suggestions and instruction on how to make elements. Perhaps most memorable were his “happy little trees” and also his statement that “there are no mistakes, only happy accidents.” His calm demeanor and encouraging words are why, perhaps, he has become an icon of ASMR, autonomous sensory meridian response, a sensory and emotional reaction to certain stimuli. People find pleasure in the calming nature of each episode, sprinkled with his witty “Bob Ross-isms.” He even has his own Twitch channel, an interactive livestreaming service, which plays episodes of The Joy of Painting continuously all day long. 

But, did you know that before Bob Ross became America’s gentle painting instructor, he was in the Air Force for 20 years? Not only that, but that one of his main positions in that time was as a drill sergeant. You know, a drill sergeant as in the super mean authority figures within the military who routinely “break down” new recruits, forcing them to do demeaning tasks and constantly yelling? Yes, Bob Ross was one of those. Reflecting on his time in the military, he was quoted as saying: 

"I was the guy who makes you scrub the latrine, the guy who makes you make your bed, the guy who screams at you for being late to work," Ross later said. "The job requires you to be a mean, tough person, and I was fed up with it. I promised myself that if I ever got away from it, it wasn't going to be that way anymore." 

Bob Ross had a change of mind and heart. It was the military which would introduce him to painting. The backdrop of Alaska, where he was posted, took center stage in many of the paintings he would later create on his TV show. The authority that the position of drill sergeant afforded him, the power he had over others, didn’t mean much to him. In fact, he knew that it wasn’t what he was truly called to being and doing. The military was an occupation, but painting became his life. While the position of drill sergeant offered him authority in a systematic way, he actually gained his authoritative position (as in someone who demonstrates authority) through his painting. That’s why he’s so well known. That’s why people flock to him and his general positive outlook. His change from ordering commands to gentle suggestions, the structured efficiency of military obedience to an opening of creativity for others doesn’t mean that he lost his power or influence, he just modified it to a way that would serve others in a more practical manner. 

Authority is a central message in today’s gospel from Matthew. The context for this reading is important in understanding why Jesus’ statements about authority are so jarring for the religious leaders to hear. Jesus has entered into Jerusalem. The people, having heard of his healings and teachings, including embracing the poor and the marginalized, are excited to welcome him. The religious leaders, however, are wary. Today’s story takes place just after Jesus has overturned the moneychangers tables in the temple, showing his disdain for how the religious leaders have allowed this space to become a center for politics and economics rather than a space for prayer and worship. Jesus continues his time in Jerusalem by teaching in the temple, much to the ire of the religious leaders. 

They question Jesus. Where does his authority to teach in the temple come from? Jesus, being Jesus, doesn’t simply answer their question. He questions them back and then proceeds to tell them the parable of the two sons. A parable about words and action. A parable about doing the will of the father and merely saying you will do the will of the father. While the religious leaders seem to understand doing the will of God is what should be favored over mere lip-service, they do not fully understand the point that Jesus is trying to make in this story. 

What is confusing for the religious leaders is that they consider themselves to be authorities because of their place within society. Their authority derives from human sources, from a title and a position. Because of this, they use their power to affect society. They have influence over the ways things are done. They serve their own self-interests, rather than those who are suffering. While they might be good teachers of religious tenets and laws, they fail to see those teachings through with action. The religious leaders may be in positions of authority within the community, but they lack authoritative action in accordance with the will of God that would confirm that authority. They may say what is right and wrong behavior, but they are not open to any ideas that would challenge their access to maintaining the power they possess. The religious leaders are hypocrites. They say one thing and do another in order to maintain power. 

Jesus is not an authority figure that the religious leaders recognize. They don’t understand why he has so much popularity among the people. They don’t understand the way he goes about teaching and healing, reaching out to the poor, sick, and marginalized. If he truly were “the one who comes in the name of the Lord” as the people claimed when he entered Jerusalem, he wouldn’t have shown up on a donkey and he certainly would not be associating himself with prostitutes and tax collectors. 

The critical piece that Jesus is trying to teach the religious leaders is not that works are more important than faith (Martin Luther would be rolling over in his grave if I said that) but that the will of God makes itself known through a steady process of revelation and transformation. In fact, Matthew uses the term metamelomai, to change one’s mind, twice in this passage, emphasizing its importance in the parable Jesus uses for instruction. Actually, this term might be more accurately translated “to change what one cares about” or “to change one’s heart.” The first son changes what he cares about and goes into the field to work. The tax collectors and prostitutes changed what they cared about and understood John’s righteousness. For God to be at work in the world, people must maintain an openness, to have their minds changed, in order to discern what life in the kingdom of God calls them to be. Jesus points out that the prostitutes and the tax collectors will enter into the kingdom of heaven sooner than the religious leaders because they have left their minds to be opened to John’s righteousness. That openness in changing one’s mind also changes how they act with others.  

Allowing oneself to be open to the will of God requires humility. It requires us to go beyond what we want, what we’re comfortable with, to accept how God can create transformational power in our lives. In our current world, many expressions of belief have become about knowing, not seeking. What I mean by that is that belief has become more about certainty than an openness to new ideas and approaches. The same could be said about the religious authorities and heads of state in Jesus’ time. They were more concerned with maintaining the status quo, in which they held the power, than being challenged into a way of life of mutual support and humility. We see Paul imploring the community in Philippi to be “of a certain mind” together, willing to give up what each of them might be entitled to in the aid of another. They are to find a cruciform way of living, connecting their patterns of thinking with their patterns of living to enable the work of God to be done in the world. 

What today’s gospel and the other readings from today point us toward is that we do not have to be perfect in knowing. Instead, we have to be open to seeking God. We should allow God’s presence in our lives transform us, instead of asserting our own way. Jesus’ authority is not human authority, which focuses on the acquisition and maintenance of raw power. Rather Jesus’ authority derives out of humility, taking those who are abandoned by society and restoring them to wholeness through his healing. Jesus’ authority demonstrates a way of life for us that is open to God’s power and truth. If we fail, if we falter, if we don’t get it right on the first try, God will not abandon us. We can explore faith with the knowledge that God will be there for us even if our attempts in understanding are flawed. As Bob Ross would say, “There are no mistakes, only happy accidents.” 

How wonderful it is, then, that we find ourselves located in a place of inquiry. A university campus is, perhaps, one of the best places for those who seek. Marsh Chapel stands as a place dedicated to the exploration of religious inquiry, not certainty. Here, we encourage you to ask questions, to be unsure, to be willing to explore. That’s honestly what I love most about my job. Working with young adults provides so many opportunities for openness, a willingness to learn and grow. We aim at providing a safe place to land, as well as a safe place to ask the existential questions – who am I? what is meaningful to me? Where and to what is God calling me? Just as Bob Ross encourages his audience to accept mistakes and be open to their own way of approaching painting, we too provide a place where people can change their minds, explore further, and be creative in their relationship with the Divine. Not because we say they must, but because we provide the support to allow such inquiry to occur.  

If we can maintain this openness, a willingness to have our mind’s changed, we may experience the radical transformation that comes in relationship with God. It requires us to get out of our comfort zones and accept that the way we’ve always done things may not always be the only or best way to do them. Authority doesn’t necessarily mean anything if it isn’t connected to action. In fact, authority is best exhibited through action rather than the external imposition of that status. As they say, “Actions speak louder than words.” Let us be active seekers of Divine transformation. 

Amen. 

-The Rev. Dr. Jessica Chicka, University Chaplain for International Students 

Sunday
August 6

Feasting Together

By Marsh Chapel

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Matthew 14:13–21

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Good morning, Marsh Chapel! I’m glad to be back in the pulpit again for our summer preaching series as we enter into August (it’s August already, can you believe it?) 

We continue our exploration of Matthew and the Costs of Discipleship this morning. Last week we heard about the kingdom of heaven in Matthew’s gospel. Through many metaphors, Jesus describes the kingdom of heaven as a mustard seed, as yeast, as a net catching fish, as a treasure that is hidden. As Rev. Dr. Stephen Cady pointed out to us, in using these metaphors, Jesus is teaching us that the kingdom of heaven can be realized on Earth. Jesus comes to us to teach us how to live and in doing so shows us that love is the way of life. In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus is depicted most strongly as a teacher. He instructs the disciples on how to minister to others. He instructs the world on what the central message of his teaching is, to recognize God’s sovereignty and the importance of love and care of one another.  

In this week’s text, Jesus continues his ministry not through parables or metaphor, but through concrete action. Jesus shows us what the kingdom of heaven is actually like using bread and fish. Using compassion and patience. The story of the feeding of the 5,000 is a familiar one to our ears. We’ve encountered it before as one of Jesus’ miracles. In fact, it is the only one of Jesus’ miracles, except for the resurrection, that is recounted in all four Gospels. The writers of the gospels all share this story because it demonstrates a central importance to Jesus’ ministry and the message Jesus is sending to the world through his actions. It also provides many avenues from which we can understand the significance of this story. In fact, some scholars believe that while this may not have been a concrete historical event, its ability to be interpreted through many different lenses offers the opportunity for us to find meaning in a variety of circumstances. Morality, social justice, physical need, and our understanding of the Lord’s supper all influence how we read this text.  

For the disciples, this event is a challenge to their understanding of their way of life. The kingdom of heaven pokes its way through into our reality through Jesus’ actions. First, Jesus, although tired and seeking some refuge in time away from the demands of his ministry (something that we should know is necessary to continue to do one’s work well) is drawn back into that ministry by a crowd of people who followed him and the disciples to a deserted place. I’m sure you can relate to how the disciples might have felt in this situation. Who among us has been eager to take a rest, to find a quiet space, only to be drawn back into the world by the needs of another? I know for parents this is particularly true. In this case, he people come, and some of them are sick, so Jesus shows compassion and heals them rather than taking his rest. 

There must have been many sick people, because Jesus’ healing work goes into the evening. The disciples, not necessarily out of a desire to get rid of the crowd, but perhaps out of concern for their ability to find food and shelter, ask Jesus to send the crowd away. They are, after all, in a deserted area and while the disciples know they have food for themselves, the likelihood that others have brought food or will be able to find anything to eat where they are is slim. It makes sense then, to let them go back to where they can have food. Jesus’ response to them is almost as if their request doesn’t make any sense. He tells the disciples to feed them, knowing they only have five loaves of bread and two fish. 

Now, nowhere in this gospel reading does it say that Jesus somehow makes piles of food. It tells us that he blesses and breaks the bread, but he leaves it up to the disciples to distribute the food to those in need of a meal. While they do so, they find that there are not running out, but that there is enough food for all. So much so that there is bread to spare at the end. Everyone is able to eat until they are full, something that might have been a rarity for the marginalized members of that society. Because the food doesn’t appear suddenly in a big pile, there isn’t some moment where the crowd is amazed by what is happening or in awe of what takes place. Instead, this miracle is happening in real time as both the disciples and the crowd realize that there is more than enough for everyone.  

The feeding of the more than 5000 (remember, 5000 was only the number of the men in attendance, we’re told there were also women and children present as well) gives a glimpse of the kingdom of heaven. In the moment when it appears that there is no solution to meeting the basic needs of the people in his presence, Jesus shows that in the kingdom of heaven there is more than enough for all. Trusting in God, having faith in God, allows for this miraculous event to happen. In moments of challenge, Jesus teaches us to discern what’s possible when we look at the world with eyes that are not yet adjusted to the kingdom of heaven.  

There are two examples of challenge in our current contexts that tie into today’s gospel nicely, even if at the outset they seem like two very different problems. 

One example of how we might see today’s gospel applied to our lives is how we conceive of the church (that’s Church with a big “C” – inclusive of all Christianity) in today’s world. There’s a lot of conversation about what the future of the Church will look like these days. As protestant denominations continue to see a decline in membership and individual congregations face the challenges of limited funds, aging buildings, and shrinking numbers, the options available are, in a word, hard. Some congregations, lacking funds and people, have no choice but to close. Others go through the process of merging with one or two other congregations who share life in ministry together. Most places are having a hard time envisioning what the future will bring for them. The studies and research on religious affiliation aren’t encouraging, either. Younger generations aren’t as actively involved in religious organizations as older generations had been at their age. While younger generations may be willing to identify as spiritual, but not religious, they aren’t actively participating in communities of faith in the same ways as previous generations. 

Another concerning aspect of our current global situation is the level of food insecurity found around the world. We see it in our own country and even in our own communities. With inflation increasing the prices of everything, including basic needs like food, food insecurity is on the rise. The latest data from the USDA which is from 2021 indicates that 10.2 % of the population is food insecure with 3.8% having very low food security. These statistics are higher for households with children, those living in metropolitan areas, for black and persons of color households, and for those headed by a single woman.1 Globally, international markets affect the distribution of food to the point that it becomes scarce. African countries in particular share the burden of the most food insecurity.2 The frustrating aspect of all these cases of food insecurity is not that there isn’t enough food to go around to feed the world’s population. No, in fact, we have more than enough food. Global markets and systems which see food as a good rather than a human need prevent access through pricing and distribution.  

Both cases of the future of the church and global food insecurity are just two examples of challenges that feel like desperate situations in our current world. While there is a fear of “not having enough” in both situations – either young people to carry on congregational life or “enough” food to go around for those in need – the reality is that there is enough. Today’s gospel teaches us that what might feel like a hopeless situation actually calls on us to live into the kingdom of heaven mentality that Jesus encourages the disciples to experience. Perhaps the church, as it is now, is in the process of changing and in a place where it needs to more actively meet the needs of those marginalized or who have felt excluded. Some of these communities already exist, and their impact is greatly felt by the surrounding community and those whom the church may not usually reach. While we might not be able to affect change on a global level when it comes to food insecurity, there are opportunities to engage the local community in efforts to ease the stress of food insecurity for all. 

One such opportunity which ties together both of these issues in a movement within Mainline Protestant denominations within the past 10-15 years. Recently, upon the suggestion of a graduate student here at Marsh Chapel, I read the book We Will Feast by Kendall Vanderslice. In it, Vanderslice, a gastronomist who studied here at BU, explores the dinner church movement as an alternative church experience which centers worship around a meal that involves the Eucharist. Vanderslice also has a keen interest in theology, most recently identifying within the Episcopal/Anglican tradition, but also having experienced other types of worship throughout her life. In her words, her book “explores what happens when we eat together as an act of worship,” through various case studies of churches who incorporate a meal as part of their liturgy (21). As a gastronomy student, she was interested in seeing how food was intertwined with faith and how new communities were forming with feeding people as part of their goals. As she states “..in God’s love for the beloved creation God called it good, and in the narrative that continues through Jesus, humanity received a ministry of meals.” (3) Eating, or feasting, is central to the church’s history, including in today’s gospel. 

Vanderslice’s case studies include a variety of congregations – some located in storefronts in urban centers, welcoming all who want a meal and community to join in, and some in actual gardens, where the emphasis on connecting the land and what it produces becomes a bigger aspect of the meal. Instead of the standard stock liturgy she experienced in her regular congregation, she was welcomed into communities which shared the responsibilities of preparing and eating a meal together while also having an opportunity to hear scripture and participate in communion. Every aspect of the meal came from the community – from the bakers who made the bread from scratch to those who would come to set the tables and prepare the food, to those who would cleanup afterward. People were encouraged to have conversation and to share in the intimate act of eating with one another. In Vanderslice’s words “something powerful happens at the table.” (4) People go from strangers to opening up to each other in conversation and taking the time to be fully present to one another during the meal. They share in the bread. They serve each other the wine or grape juice. They provide sustenance, physically, socially, and spiritually. As relationships form, divisions that may have previously existed begin to dissolve and the body of Christ becomes one again. 

Furthermore, dinner church changes the way in which one thinks about the eucharist. Eating is a central part of Jesus ministry; It is also a central part of our own worship. Remember that in today’s gospel, we encounter the familiar scene of Jesus blessing the bread and breaking it, which will be echoed in the narrative of the last supper. Tying this act to our own celebration of the eucharist reminds us that we are not only spiritually fulfilled when we come to the table, but that we also have a responsibility to show compassion and care to others to make sure that they are physically filled and able to live full lives. 

Will every community benefit from hosting dinner church? No, of course not. Vanderslice herself does not think that all churches would be better off if they became dinner churches. But, she tempers this opinion with a statement: 

“I do, however, believe that every church and every Christian should understand the power of food and should expand their vision of what Jesus intended when asking his followers to eat and drink in remembrance of him. And I do believe these examples of worship around the table should inspire thoughtful reflection about who feels welcome or unwelcome in our churches, whom we see and whom we fail to see, who leaves lonely and who leaves grounded in community.” (166) 

Jesus’ ministry is steeped in feeding and taking care of those in need. In so much of our holy scripture, God comes to people in moments of challenge through feeding – to the Israelites when they were in the desert longing for food with Moses, to the five thousand in the wilderness with Jesus, to the table at the last supper, when Jesus instructs his disciples to feed others just as he is feeding them. 

Today we will celebrate the Eucharist with one another. As we do, I urge you to think about what it means when Jesus tells us to “do this in remembrance of me.” While we are spiritually fed, how can we aid others in being spiritually, socially, and physically fed? Jesus instructs us that when we have some, we should be willing to share with all. That is what the kingdom of heaven is like. 

“Jesus said to them, ‘They need not go away; you give them something to eat.’” 

 Amen. 

-The Rev. Dr. Jessica Chicka, University Chaplain for International Students 

Sunday
July 2

“Welcome”

By Marsh Chapel

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Matthew 10:40–42

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The text of this sermon is not available at this time. We apologize for any inconvenience.

-The Rev. Dr. Jessica Chicka, University Chaplain for International Students 

Sunday
May 14

This I Believe 2023

By Marsh Chapel

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John 14:15–21

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Text of the reflections is unavailable at this time.

Sunday
April 23

Reflections for Earth Day

By Marsh Chapel

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Luke 24:13-35

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Good morning! It is good to be with you again on this Sunday filled with April showers (or downpours as the case may be).  

We live in an era during which most of our lives are mediated through screens. We order goods, interact with others, and even learn new skills from our computers, smartphones, and the like. Person-to-person interaction might be more limited than any other time in history – even transactions that take place in person can be mediated through an app on your phone. I, for one, am an avid user of the Dunkin’ app to get my coffee on the go, limiting my interaction with others to only having to go into the store to pick up my beverage and leave.  

One thing about having so much of life distilled to screens is that it can distort your expectations. People can photoshop images to make themselves look completely different. Businesses can display an item claiming certain qualities that are not, in fact, true. Step-by-step tutorials may overestimate your abilities, or have unclear directions, leading to undesirable outcomes. For example, you might be familiar with the idea of Pinterest Fails, or the meme of “Expectation vs. Reality” or “what I ordered vs. what I got” in which people display the way something was supposed to look or turn out and then how it actually appeared. It’s such a popular concept that there’s a whole Netflix series, “Nailed it” that features armature competitors attempting to recreate professional-level baked goods. Personally, I can’t watch that kind of show without cringing, but a lot of people enjoy watching it. The same expectation vs. reality distress is realized through online ordering. A photo online doesn’t necessarily match the item in reality. The memes associated with this phenomenon are meant to evoke a laugh – the reality is so unlike the picture-perfect expectation image that you have to wonder what went wrong in the manufacturing process; or how someone could possibly sell something so unlike the product they are advertising. In any case, people set their expectations high and are disappointed when they are not met. 

As we live into this Easter season, we are greeted with the familiar stories of Jesus’ appearances. We know how these stories go, and what to expect from Jesus and those he is revealed to. First to Mary at the tomb, who did not recognize Jesus until he said her name. Then, in last week’s gospel, Jesus appeared to the disciples in the room in which they were hiding on the evening of his resurrection. Thomas at first missed out and then witnessed the resurrected Christ after his friends told him about Jesus’ return. Here again this week, we return to the day of resurrection. Cleopas and the other disciple are walking the road to Emmaus, deep in conversation about the topic of the day, Jesus’ death at the hands of the authorities. 

Walking, whether to get somewhere or for pleasure, requires time. For many, in today’s world, it seems like an inefficient way to get around. However, walking as a means of transportation has some benefits to it, aside from improving your health. It's amazing what kinds of conversations you can have on a walk with someone. Something about the constantly changing background, the movement of your body, the physical closeness without touching, and perhaps even the ability to not have to look someone in the eye as you speak allows for conversations to flow. It seems easier in the movement of the moment to share plans and expectations, to discuss the goings-on of the day and the frustrations, the joys, to share in a moment with someone.  

During their walk, the disciples encounter a stranger who we know to be Jesus. Surprised that this person has not heard of the major news of the day – Jesus’ death and resurrection – they proceed to not only narrate what happened but to share their hopes, their expectations, of what Jesus as the Messiah would have meant to them. In verse 21 we hear their expectations “But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place.” They understand that Jesus was to be a redeemer. That he was to be raised on the third day, as he had promised. But perhaps their expectations of what a redeemer should look like, what the process of redemption would be, wasn’t in line with what the reality of Jesus’ death and resurrection. There was no sudden transformation, no complete shift in reality that upended the order of things. Instead, life went on as it had, or at least it felt that way to them. There wasn’t any proof that Jesus had actually risen from the dead, at least not any that they fully trusted (the women did see him, but the disciples didn’t seem to trust their account…which is a whole other sermon). Their hopes were dashed. They retreated from Jerusalem back to Emmaus. 

Jesus, meanwhile, continues to do what he has always done in his ministry. He teaches. He interprets the scriptures for them from the time of Moses so that they might come closer to understanding what God is doing through Jesus. Much like preachers of today, Jesus is helping to clarify the scriptures for his audience, even if they don’t fully understand the message. There are many times when we might feel as though the scripture is too dense for our understanding. That the word alone may not be enough for us to understand God’s nature. The good news is that Jesus meets us where we are and reveals God’s nature to us even if we are do not fully understand. Jesus takes the time to teach the two disciples on the road to Emmaus what the meaning of the scriptures are in regards to his own presence on earth. He does not require them to enter a special location, to come to him, to offer something for this knowledge. Instead, he shows up walking alongside them. 

Like so many times throughout the scriptures, these disciples continue to miss the point of what they have learned and observed throughout Jesus’ ministry.  They do not sense that he is the person they had come to know through his teachings and actions throughout the land. They are unaware as to the reality of the situation. The gospel’s retelling of this encounter tracks with how Jesus is presented in Luke – never quite what anyone is expecting. Upending and reversing the expectations of what a teacher and a leader should do and be for others. 

The disciples who are walking along with Jesus, hearing him speak and interpret the scriptures with regard to himself, are so caught up in what they think the Messiah should have been or should have appeared to be that they fail to see what is around them. It is only after they have their eyes spiritually opened during the breaking of the bread that they understand who Jesus is and that he is standing right in front of them. Just as quickly, he disappears, not giving them a chance to engage with the risen Christ. In their reflection afterward, the comment on how they felt when Jesus was in conversation with them on their walk. They felt something, a burning in their hearts, but ignored that feeling because it didn’t align with what they were expecting. Sometimes our physical intuition guides us toward the direction of what might not be reasonable, but what is spiritually significant. 

Why is it the breaking of the bread that helps them finally fully understand who Jesus is? Now, we may automatically connect Jesus breaking the bread with our own ritual acts – the familiarity of Holy Communion. An experience in which we expect to feel a closeness to Christ. It’s  unlikely that these disciples would have been at the last supper – at the end of this scripture passage they return to the eleven who, while in hiding, had been a part of that meal. Cleopas and the other disciple would not have made the connection with Jesus’ words to the disciples about the bread and wine having significance after Jesus’ death. In this circumstance, the breaking of bread was an everyday occurrence at a meal. It is in the familiar and mundane that Jesus is revealed for who he is. The combination of the hearing the scripture explained and the physical act of the bread being broken provides the basic sacramental theology essential to worship. Jesus comes to us not in some grand and glorious fashion, but in the basic practices that constitute everyday life. Walking, talking, eating. Christ comes to us not in some glorious triumphant return, but in a place least expected. Alongside us, at the table. 

This may lead us to question: where are we encountering Jesus? How is God present to us today? What are our expectations about our relationship with God? 

As you probably know, yesterday was Earth Day. A day when we are encouraged to think about our care for the Earth. Many people take time to volunteer in cleanup events, like the one hosted along the Charles River each year. Others take time to educate themselves about their local flora and fauna, or at least spend some part of the day outside. We are often entreated to reflect on the beauty of the Earth, on pristine wilderness. Protection of nature seems to be “out there,” far away from our lives. In church, we are reminded to be good stewards of creation, especially on this day. I mean, if we can celebrate the earth on this one day a year, we’re covered, right?  

You know I don’t believe that. I suspect many of you don’t believe that either. Many of us recognize the challenges that climate change is already creating in our country and around the world. Take for instance, the record rainfall in California in the past few months. Or the flooding in Fort Lauderdale that dropped over two feet of rain in a twenty-four hour period. Or the drought conditions in Northern Italy.  Our climate and weather patterns are already shifting. Climate change is no longer a future problem; it is a now problem. But it is so overwhelming, we might imagine that if we continue to go along with our everyday patterns of behavior, we won’t actually have to face the consequences. 

For example, in a poll done in 2021 by the Yale program on Climate Change Communication, an estimated 72% of Americans believed that climate change, or global warming, is happening. However, when asked if global warming would harm them personally, only 47% agreed. So it’s happening, but it won’t bother me. It will however bother other people, like other U.S. citizens (59% agreed to that statement), and those in developing countries (68% agreed to that statement).1 Many believe that it is too late for them to have an impact on climate change – younger generations have more energy and excitement around the issue, so therefore they will be the ones who will “figure it out.” The expectation is that climate change, although a reality, will not be something we need to personally contend with. 

The truth is, because we are all connected to the earth and its systems, we will feel the effects of climate change. It will cause prices to increase on goods due to floods or droughts in food-producing regions. Our weather patterns will also change, creating extremes in heat and cold. While many of us who are not on the margins of society may feel that we can easily adapt to these changes, those with fewer resources will bear the brunt.  And although we might hope that the earth might heal itself or that other people are going to solve the problem, we must face the fact that we have to do something. Human beings are the biggest problem. We are also a part, not separate from the creation. 

Our ways of life, particularly in the developed world, do not encourage us to change our behaviors in light of climate change. Much like the disciples who have an expectation of what Jesus’ return and redemption will look like based on their own experiences and status quo ways of thinking, we have a hard time envisioning a world outside of our current experience. Most people are not willing to give up the conveniences that we have become accustomed to in modern society. If you remember back to the beginning of this sermon, I, too, enjoy the convenience of picking up a cup of coffee that comes in a disposable container from time to time. Change, especially drastic change, is scary, and the realities of climate change are so overwhelming that we’d rather not think about it. 

I posit to you that the anxiety we experience about climate change is much like the burning the disciples experienced when they heard Jesus teaching. We sense within our bodies that we should be reacting or acting to the situation, we just aren’t sure what that is, so we avoid it and pretend as though it isn’t there. We also may feel isolated in those feelings. However, we are not alone in our fears. There are many others around us who share these same feelings. While the future may not be what we expected, there is possibility of renewal and resurrection. We may be hoping for some obvious answer to the problems of climate change that will fix everything quickly without demanding too much of our time and energy, but in actuality the answers might just be standing right in front of us. We might just have to slow down, unplug, and fully sense the world around us as a part of us. Go for a walk. Have a conversation. Learn something new. Share a meal. Feel connected. 

In an article in the New York Times from January of this year, the well known environmentalist and journalist Bill McKibben was interviewed with a young climate activist, Xiye Bastida, about the future of the climate movement. The point of the article was to bring together the experiences of over 30 years of activism through McKibben with the growing climate interests of Gen Z represented by 20 year old Bastida. Both noted that the single most important thing that is needed in combatting climate change is hope that is grounded in action. Bastida reflected on what she sees to be her purpose in leading activism at such a young age. She states: 

“I love this quote that says the way that you spend your life is the way that you spend your days. Every single choice that you make builds up everything about your legacy, and who you are, and the purpose that you’ve put in your life. So I know that every single day I have agency. And I know it’s the simplest concept that the future is made of our present actions. But when we really think about it, we’re not just living our lives; we can actually shape the way in which other lives are lived. That is a responsibility that I have taken. And I want my life to have been a joyous life, so I am modeling the world that I want to see.”2 

It's true that this is a simple idea – the things we do today will shape our future. The attitude of not just living our lives but realizing that we have agency to shape the kind of world we live in makes sense. Expanding that idea beyond the self if what is needed for the future of our planet, however. It is in our attitudes and actions every day that can lead us to effective change. 

Through Jesus’ death and resurrection we know that the impossible is possible. Not only that, we know that God is present to us in the most unexpected of places, even death on a cross. If we are open to moments of connection with others, including the world that we are a part of, we embody the risen Christ. When we respect the creation, we enact the love shown to us through God. Resurrection is not an escape from this life to some other existence. It is the fulfillment of life leading to the full redemption of the entire cosmos. Resurrection encourages us to be in community, to share the good news, to break bread with one another and listen fully to how we can be in service to each other, including the earth. It may not be what we expected, but it is what we need. 

Amen. 

-The Rev. Dr. Jessica Chicka, University Chaplain for International Students

Sunday
January 8

An Epiphany Reflection

By Marsh Chapel

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Matthew 2:1-12

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Good morning. Well, we made it through another holiday season. In this past week, many of us have taken down our Christmas decorations and reclaimed space taken up by Christmas trees, restoring our living spaces to their normal appearance. Indeed, here at Marsh Chapel, our festive greenery and tree have been removed, reminding us that the Christmas season has ended. Most of us have returned to our regular schedules after holiday celebrations, gathering with friends and family, traveling (or attempting to travel, in some cases), and perhaps having the time to lose yourself in the ease of a week without a schedule (if you are so lucky to have had that time off). As we readjust to life in 2023, a new year, we can easily fall back into the routinization of our existence. Wake up, feed ourselves and maybe others, commute to/from work, go to work or school, have some time with others, tend to ourselves, go to sleep. Life in January, in sometimes the coldest time of the year in Massachusetts, although not this year, can turn into a drudgery.

This time after Christmas can be somewhat of a letdown. I’m reminded of my mother, who always bemoans the fact that society wants her to move on so quickly from Christmas as soon as December 25th is over. Many folks take their decorations down on December 26th. Holiday programming stops on many tv networks shortly after the 25th ends. People move on to preparing for the new year and leave the giving nature of Christmas behind. But here, in church, we are reminded that Christmas tidings are just the beginning of our church year. As has often been quoted by Dean Hill time and time again, Howard Thurman’s poem, “The Work of Christmas” reminds us that once the celebrations of the holiday have ended, our work as Christians starts.

When the song of the angels is stilled,

When the star in the sky is gone,

When the kings and princes are home,

When the shepherds are back with their flock,

The work of Christmas begins:

To find the lost,

To heal the broken,

To feed the hungry,

To release the prisoner,

To rebuild the nations,

To bring peace among others,

To make music in the heart.

Today we celebrate the Epiphany of our Lord, a day which typically signals the end of the Christmas season. While Epiphany was on this past Friday, January 6th, as it always is, today we will recognize our entry into this season of the church calendar. Epiphany is the time in the church year when we focus on the manifestation of God’s grace and love in the world and have time to reflect on what Jesus’ presence in the world means for us.In the lectionary, the list of appointed readings set for each Sunday in the church year, typically this Sunday is a celebration of the Baptism of the Lord. Often, unless there is a separate church service set aside for January 6th or if Epiphany happens to fall on a Sunday, we don’t hear or read the texts appointed to this day.

Perhaps that’s why our understanding of the Magi’s travels to Bethlehem have been somewhat distorted over time. How many of you didn’t really pay attention to the gospel as it was read because you thought, oh, I know this one, it’s one of the greatest hits from the Bible? The wise men go to the manger and they bring Jesus gifts. How many of you were a little surprised hearing Matthew’s account of this well-known story? The truth is the account from Matthew is more political than we remember, while also vaguer about timelines and the identities of the magi.

The story of the magi may have indelible memories for us. Some may think of the nativity scene figures of three men carrying gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, sometimes depicted as kings or “wise men” coming from the east to pay homage to the baby Christ child in the manger. In my family growing up, we were very careful with the nativity scene. Our figures were made from olive wood; the manger itself made of natural materials including moss and sticks. Baby Jesus didn’t arrive in the manger until Christmas Eve. The wise men certainly did not arrive from the East until Epiphany. The timing of these apparitions made clear to us the story of Christ’s birth and the significance it would hold for the whole world. The figures were more than just a decoration; they were an educational device used to remind us that there was a progression of events leading to the revelation of Christ’s divinity and kingship.

While our traditional understanding of the three wise men still offers us a valuable account for recognizing the importance of Jesus’ birth, the source material offers us much more. First, the story doesn’t say that there were three of them. The magi aren’t identified as men. They aren’t identified as kings. They aren’t identified as “wise” even. Some scholars believe that the Magi followed Zoroastrianism, or at the very least, they were astrologers. They consulted the movement of the stars as a guide and as a way of interpreting the world around them. In their day, they were not as revered as we might assume, but instead were outsiders from the mainstream. Their approaches to religious observance were not the norm, especially coming into Jerusalem and eventually to Bethlehem. For them to be the ones to recognize Jesus for who he is speaks to the kind of ministry Jesus will lead, reaching those who are on the margins of society. Their appearance also speaks to God’s power, as they heed the message told to them in their dreams to not return to Herod, but to go another way home after visiting Jesus. God comes to them, even though they are not affluent, powerful, or members of the Jewish community.

In contrast, King Herod stands as a threat to Jesus. Herod rules over the land and has political ties to Rome. He feels threatened by the arrival of one who is the Davidic Messiah, a child whose coming seems to be foretold in the scriptures. Additionally, it is not only Herod who is frightened by the news of Jesus birth, but the whole of Jewish society, particularly the chief priests and scribes. They understand that this occurrence has significance when looking at the scriptures. A change in the status quo of the power dynamics could be happening if the news about Jesus’ birth is true. Herod and all those in charge don’t know what this will mean for their status.

The Magi appear in Jerusalem because they assumed royalty would be born in such an important place. When offered the chance to help the Mag, Herod provides them with a sort of quid-pro-quo. In order for them to get the information they need, Herod requests a report back from these traveling astrologers. Upon confirming the location of the birth of such a child through the chief priests and scribes, Herod instructs the Magi to return to him with his exact location. He states that it is so he may also go pay homage to this king. We know, however, that Herod has ulterior, harmful motives for this information. Herod’s power is threatened by this new King. His fear in losing his power will later lead to Mary, Joseph, and Jesus fleeing to Egypt to escape his cruelty after he orders all the male children 2 years of age and under to be killed.

This retelling of Epiphany is much more violent and political than what we share in our basic nativity scene. But it highlights the fact that God’s incarnation through Jesus subverts the powers as they stand. Nothing about Jesus’ birth or this interaction with the Magi is how it should be if it were dictated by the norms of Jewish society in this timeframe. The arrival of Jesus is a shakeup, a disruption of power. As we observed throughout Luke’s gospel in the previous church year, the reign of the kingdom of God comes to lift the lowly, free the prisoner, heal the sick, and seek justice for the oppressed. The light that Jesus brings into the world illuminates the dark places and allows us to see things how they really are. It is able to bring those from afar, who are completely foreign to God’s reality, and show them the God’s power. It demonstrates what power and corruption can do; the violence it can bring out in those who feel threatened or those afraid of change. It shows every day people that they can and should have hope because God loves the world so much that God becomes incarnate.

The  Rev. William Flippin Jr., an ELCA pastor in Southeastern Pennsylvania, sums up this subversive story more succinctly that I can:

“Jesus, the light of the world, starts life as a political refugee. Our Savior is spirited out of the country on back roads traveling RWM (that’s riding while a Messiah). The infant Jesus is given a head start by the magi, pagan people of color, who defy an imperial edict and disobey King Herod’s command that they report back to him after completing their visit to the infant Jesus, thereby involving themselves in civil disobedience and political subversiveness.

In the light and darkness of Epiphany, we are called to be spiritual and political activists, to perpetuate the true revelation that Jesus is the light of the world—the light that not only illuminates but also reveals and uncovers those things done in the dark.”[1]

One other thing that might seem obvious to us, but is reiterated through our scripture readings today, particularly in the gospel and Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, is that the incarnation brings together people of all backgrounds. Epiphany is about revealing the true nature of Jesus, his divinity and status as “Lord of all” as the magi, who come from a distant land, have Jesus’ holy nature revealed to them. Indeed, the whole of Matthew will end with the Great Commission, to “make disciples of all nations.” (Matt. 28:19) In Ephesians, Paul emphasizes that the message of the gospel is for the Gentiles and that it is his task to deliver it. The message of the grace of God comes for everyone, not just those who hold power. God’s care for the world as a whole is what brings Jesus into being.

As an increasingly globalized community, the message here is to not create divisions over belief or identity, but that the kingdom of God is available to all. The kingdom of God is unlike anything we can imagine, but it has the power to unite rather than divide. Let us not be sucked into the language of insider and outsider, but rather willing to receive others and meet them where they are. God reveals the location of Jesus to the magi through the stars – an aspect of their own tradition. God meets the magi where they are in order to reveal God’s self to them. There is no expectation that the Magi will listen or necessarily follow what God does as there is no coercion present in the story, but God appears through a dream to issue a warning. They choose to accept and recognize the nature of what is presented to them in the form of the Christ child. Jesus’ birth creates a new way of being for the world continuously, something we also experience in our own baptisms, as each day we live into the reality of being claimed as God’s own.

Epiphany then, is not just a day on the Christian calendar. It is a whole season that urges us to constantly be aware of the unfolding and illuminating discovery of God’s manifestation in the world. It is a global invitation to come face-to-face with the revelation of God in the world. The frenzied feeling of the holiday season may be behind us, but it is the threshold into a season that brings to light the ways in which God shows up in the world through Jesus. Our task is to take the hope found in a child in the most unlikely of circumstances who comes to redeem us and use it to fuel our desire to realize God’s kingdom on earth.

What will be our epiphany experience this year?  Will it be sudden, like the star appearing in the sky to lead the magi? Or will it be a slow unfurling, like the way God continues to show love and grace in the world? Maybe we’ve already had experiences like these in our lives. Have we been willing to share these portions of our faith journeys with others, providing an entry point into our spiritual lives for people who may have yet to experience God’s presence in their lives? How can we meet people where they are to share in God’s love and have epiphany moments of their own?

One way that we can prepare ourselves for our personal or collective epiphanies and be reminded of those we’ve experienced is through worship. Hearing the scriptures, really listening to the way Jesus ministers to others can help us to better connect ourselves with God’s presence in our world. At times, this might be challenging, as Jesus’ ways cause us to resist his message because it challenges our conceptions of ourselves. It may call on us to question powers that be, powers that benefit us, for the good of those who are oppressed. It may cause us to completely change course, as God’s appearance to the Magi led them home a different way. But at the same time, it may reveal something new to us that will help us to alter our worldview to one that is closer to God’s Kingdom. Remaining open the possibilities of the hope found in the birth of Jesus. When we encounter those epiphany moments, whether they are sudden or drawn-out, we can better identify God’s work in the world.

We come back to Thurman’s writing again. The work of Christmas is found in Epiphany. The ministry we can offer to others through seeking justice, shedding light on systems of oppression, helping to heal the broken, finding peace. At a time when we are returning back to the routines of our lives, making ourselves available to spontaneous epiphanies or to recognize those slowly developing epiphanies in our lives.

In conclusion, I’d like to share a prayer offered by the Women of the ELCA in their resource, “Epiphany: Unfolding the Discovery.” This prayer is meant to serve as a guide through this holy season, urging forward in hope. May we find hope in each day as we settle into this season of Epiphany, when our lives return to their normal hustle and bustle and it is easy to overlook the ways in which God is revealed.

Let us pray:

May we each day open the window of our worlds, inviting the fresh Light of Epiphany to flood us with hope, to bring us fresh insight, and to fill us with grateful joy. May we see the world around us with new creation eyes, filled with potential and brimming with promise. May our lives be a continuous unfolding into God’s grace, revealing new vistas that expand our faith horizons. In Jesus’ name, we pray, and by his name we are saved. Amen.

[1] Rev. William Flippin, Jr. “The Revelation of Epiphany,” Living Lutheran, January 6, 2017. https://www.livinglutheran.org/2017/01/the-revelation-of-epiphany/

 

-The Rev. Dr. Jessica Chicka, University Chaplain for International Students

Sunday
September 18

Making a Way

By Marsh Chapel

Click here to hear the full service

Luke 16:1-13

Click here to hear just the sermon

 

Greetings to you on this international student Sunday! I am very excited that we are able to return to this tradition of recognizing our international student population this year, for the first time in three years. The start of this school year has been a return to more normal operations – as the Dean has said on multiple occasions you can feel a certain buzz in the air that hasn’t been present for a while. That includes having gatherings together, seeing each other’s faces, and having opportunities to connect with one another. As we come together in worship, we have the opportunity to hear the scriptures together, to learn together, and to refuel ourselves to go out into the world and share God’s love with others. 

That being said, this week’s gospel is a doozy. I mean that with all sincerity. If you feel lost having just heard or read it to yourself, you’re not alone. What is going on in this scripture passage? We get a clear “lesson” from the parable at the end of the reading – “You cannot serve God and wealth.” But what is going on in the rest of this story? It seems less clear than many of the parables we’ve heard before. I am not joking when every commentary I read for this week’s gospel said that this was an especially difficult passage to preach on, mainly because we are trying to read something out of context. We aren’t as familiar with the economic goings-on of the first century. We don’t know if there is deeper meaning in why Jesus tells this parable and what the author of Luke’s gospel intended in adding it to the scriptures. In fact, many commentaries I consulted suggested there were up to seven different approaches you could take in trying to interpret this scripture, but that no one is really sure what the original intention may have been. It’s much easier to speculate as to why this story is present in an academic commentary than it is to bring the text to life in our current context, but we’ll find our way through together. 

So, let’s start with a summary because the text is confusing upon first reading. There is a manager who reports to a rich man. His job is to collect what is owed to the rich man, but he hasn’t been doing it. The rich man effectively fires him because he hasn’t been doing his job, which would appear to be a reasonable justification to fire someone. We don’t know why the manager hasn’t been collecting what is owed to the rich man. The thought of losing his job puts the manager into crisis mode, a bad situation. He realizes that if he really does lose his job, he will be required to either do hard labor (which he claims to be unfit for) or to beg (which he is too proud to do). In this crisis situation, he must find a way out. 

The manager devises a plan – if he goes to the debtors and offers them a lower amount of what they owe, they may be more willing to pay it. Not only that, but they may be grateful to the manager for the reduction he has offered them. If he is to lose his job, these people are possibly the ones whom he will need to rely on for his survival. An expectation of reciprocity, a little “I’ll scratch your back if you will scratch mine,” fuels his deal-making. What originally seemed like a dead-end crisis becomes a win-win-win situation. It turns out, even though the manager has not collected all that is owed to the rich man, the rich man is happy with the way the manager handled the situation. Imagine that! The original reason that the rich man had fired the manager was because he was not bringing in the earnings the rich man though he deserved, and the rich man is still not getting all that he thinks he deserves from the situation. However, the rich man seems to better understand what the manager is doing to secure his job. If the rich man were to go back to the debtors and request the remainder of what he thinks he is owed, the debtors might not be so happy with him. The manager has now flexed his own power in creating a situation where the rich man must accept what he is given or else he will look bad to his debtors. In his response, the rich man praises the manager for being a shrewd business person.  He’s proven some level of trust to the rich man. Conversely, the debtors are happy with the manager and the rich man because they owe less money and will perhaps be more cooperative with them in the future because of this gesture. Win-win-win. 

All’s well that ends well, right? I mean Jesus even seems to suggest to the disciples that they can learn a thing or two from the manager about how to utilize shrewd or prudent behavior to their advantage. It’s not what we would expect Jesus to say, given the myriad of examples of how his parables work. What’s strange about this passage is that it’s not like a typical parable from Jesus. Usually when Jesus is telling a parable, there’s clear exemplars of one position or another. They provide examples of what God’s kingdom looks like, what justice and righteousness on earth could appear to be. But here, it almost seems as though there is no exemplar for behavior. If anything, it gives us a view of what everyday human existence looks like. The manager is making a way in a bad situation. The way he chooses ends up benefiting everyone, but it’s definitely not grounded in ultimate justice or righteousness. If anything, his shrewd behavior seems to be motivated more by self-preservation than a sense of what is right or wrong. He is looking toward his future alone instead of being stuck in the present moment in making a plan for himself. 

It is our instinct to protect ourselves in moments of crisis. When faced with the unexpected, it’s often hard to see past the circumstances of the immediate moment to think clearly. Sometimes all we want is to fix the problem immediately, whatever it is so that the crisis will stop. Most times, it’s not that simple to accomplish. Like the manager in the story who weighs his options if he really has lost his job, occasionally we are led on a somewhat precarious path of making the best out of what we’re experiencing. It is often also true that in these crisis situations, we receive help from the most unexpected places or in unexpected ways. For us, we remember that even in those lowest moments, we are not alone, but that God’s grounding presence abides with us. 

In our existence as human beings on this planet, as social creatures who must make their way through ups and downs in the context of other people’s behaviors, we have complex matrices of negotiation and decision making that we must undertake. Not one of us operates in the extremes of good and bad. Instead, we are constantly negotiating the realities of our lives. Our own needs, our commitments to others, and our faithfulness to God. It’s messy and complicated and a lot harder to live out our values than it is to claim them. Our interactions with others are never 100% neutral. Even though we might not want to think of ourselves as been shrewd in how we deal with others, there are times when the expectation of reciprocity motivates us to act in certain ways. We do favors for others, sometimes selflessly, but sometimes with the knowledge that the favor will be returned. “You owe me” we might say to a friend or a colleague upon assisting them in a crisis situation. Or we feel indebted to others for the favors or kindnesses they’ve shown to us and are more willing to assist them when they need it in the future. In crisis situations, it’s good to know who your friends are. 

Similarly, we might try our best in a situation that’s difficult to negotiate, but feel our efforts weren’t enough to solve the problem. There have been many times in my life when I’ve felt that I could have done so much more in a tricky situation. Upon review with a friend or a loved one, the refrain of “you did the best you could, given the circumstances.” There are many big-picture issues in our world today which might make us contemplate whether we are doing enough to meet the moment. Global issues, like the suffering created by the war in Ukraine, climate change, and participation in exploitative economic practices create anxiety and worry. We may feel like Jeremiah in today’s Hebrew Bible reading, crying out in the grief we feel about our earthly situation. When God is not centered in the community, all hope of establishing the kingdom on earth fails. 

An important thing to remember in this story is that we are talking about two different economies. The economy of earth, the children of this age, and God’s economy, the children of the light. As has been reiterated by so many of the parables Jesus has told during his travels to Jerusalem in Luke’s gospel, the kingdom of God is quickly coming, but it does not operate under the same systems which human beings have created for themselves. What the disciples can learn from the example of the manager is that they do not have to be victims of circumstance. They can change the systems that exist in order to establish new patterns of relationship. Essentially, that is what Jesus is teaching them to do through his ministry. God’s kingdom is all about dismantling the human-created patterns of behavior that cause harm and oppression to establish justice and righteousness. Even if the manager is not setting out to completely overhaul the economic system he is beholden to, in his small way he has altered the relationships that exist within that system. By making friends with the debtors and reducing what is owed, he establishes a relationship of trust and reciprocity with them, not merely a transactional relationship. 

We return to the lesson we are supposed to be learning from this parable, that one cannot worship or serve both God and wealth. This phrase might evoke a sense that Christians are not to be concerned with money; an idealized version of discipleship in which one is not tied to the economic practices of this world. However, for most Christians that’s not possible. We are human beings who exist in the world and we have vocations that require us to operate in the economic systems of our communities. However, as Christians, we should understand that the wealth, power, or privilege we might possess in any given situation are to be met with humility and generosity of spirit in witnessing to the needs of others. For as quickly as wealth or power can come, it can also be lost just as quickly. Our understanding of wealth must rest in a deeper commitment to justice. Rev. Verity A. Jones, in a reflection on this passage from Luke states this: 

Despite all the potential ethical and practical pitfalls and dangers of wealth accumulation, Jesus is suggesting in this reading that it is possible to manage possessions and money in ways that can lead us into life with God. The key, the starting point for knowing how to do this, is to know the endpoint -- to know what life with God is like. And if we use possessions to gain that life with God, Jesus may commend us, as he did the dishonest manager in the reading. Being shrewd, in this case, means using what we have for God's purposes, rather than squandering what we have for no gain at all.1 

Although the manager’s motivations for why he helped lower the amounts owed may not have been purely aligned with the mission statement that Jones puts forth in her assessment of what we are to take from the text, the point is that even small actions like these can help in moving toward what God’s kingdom looks like. 

You probably heard the news story this week about the asylum seekers who unexpectedly landed in Martha’s Vineyard after being sent north by the Governor of Florida. Viewing Martha’s Vineyard as a beacon of wealth, this attempt to either embarrass or prove a point about sanctuary communities for immigrants not really being prepared seemed to backfire. Even though the summer population of the island does tend toward wealthy, in the off-season, the island is populated by a small community used to supporting each other through the winter. The community, gathered around St. Andrew’s Episcopal church where the migrants were housed, provided aid for the mostly Venezuelan group at a moment’s notice. A situation in which no one was prepared for what was to happen – not the immigrants themselves, who had been promised housing, jobs, and help with immigration when they arrived in New England, nor the community who had no advanced knowledge of the immigrants arrival. However, they were able to make the best out of the situation that they could. It wasn’t perfect; the community couldn’t guarantee the asylum that the immigrants were searching for, but they provided for the basic needs of this small group in a moment of confusion and desperation with what they had. It may not have been perfect, but it provided relief and aid in a complex situation. 

Today’s gospel teaches us about the patience required for us to make a way that leads us toward justice in our complex world. When crises arise, we do the best we can with the situation at hand, remembering our faith and acting prudently. Our faith in God provides the only relationship which requires nothing from us, but we cannot live our lives with the expectation that all actions we undertake will be completely selfless. We should feel called to reflect on what we have; what wealth, what power, what influence we can muster in shaping the relationships around us toward God’s purposes. If we can find ways to make our systems more just, so that people and our world are not exploited, we can inch toward the reality that Jesus foretells in God’s kingdom.  

Amen. 

-The Rev. Dr. Jessica Chicka, University Chaplain for International Students