Texts: Isaiah 6:1-10; Luke 6:12-16

By Reverend Joel Miller

Two weekends ago I was up at Camp Friedenswald.  For those of unfamiliar, Friedenswald is in southern Michigan.  It’s the camp of our church conference, Central District, where we send our youth – and sometimes adults.  Pastor Mark, Bethany Davey, and Anita Gastaldo are there right now for a training with Our Whole Lives, which is a Sunday school curriculum addressing healthy sexuality across the lifespan. 

I was there for only slightly less exciting reasons – Central District board meetings.  These board but never boring meetings coincided with another event hosted at Friedenswald – the Restoration Retreat.  It featured speaker Sarah Augustine.  She is a Pueblo Mennonite, and Director of the Coalition to Dismantle the Doctrine of Discovery.  Board members were able to sit in for her opening talk.

It was the third time I’ve heard Sarah speak.  One of them was a sermon with us over Zoom back in January.  Each of these times, Sarah has opened with the same proposal.  I don’t know about you, but when I hear something twice it catches my attention in a new way, and when I hear it three times, months apart, I think, OK, how long before this actually sinks in?

The way Sarah begins her presentations is by talking about the difference between faith and reverence.  Faith, she says, has to do with what we can’t see.  We might have faith in God, faith in reason, faith in zodiac signs, faith in an afterlife, faith in the arc of the moral universe being long but bending toward justice, faith in Jesus, faith in democracy.  Or any combination of these.  Faith, as we have come to use the word, is a particular orientation to the world of the big unseen.

Without discounting faith, Sarah points to reverence as…

The Earthy Divine

Sermon by Bethany E.M. Davey

Sunday, November 10, 2024

During class a few weeks ago, a seminary professor reminded us that those who are preaching the Sunday after the U.S. election ought to be prepared for quite an experience. I looked around the Zoom room, feeling a bit sorry for those jokers who’d have to navigate the layers of this particular Sunday, only to realize that I, too, am one such joker. I am CMC’s pastoral intern this year, and as it has been set on the schedule since August, it is me who preaches today, the Sunday after the U.S. re-election of former president Donald Trump.

There are many emotions present in this moment. There are many emotions present in our individual bodies and the body that is our community. There are many emotions present in this physical space, even, I am confident, in the soil itself. These complex and even seemingly contradictory emotions, these multiple realities, can exist at once. We can feel gratitude in the midst of despair, can belly laugh in the midst of profound grief, can feel tender in the midst of fury.

So much is present in this room.

Deep breath.

Deep breath.

Deep breath.

May we be comforted by our shared anabaptist, Mennonite, Christian rituals across space and time. May we deeply know our interconnection with one another, and with all human and Earth siblings.

Our congregation is following the narrative lectionary, and Jonah isn’t such a bad spot to land the Sunday after an incredibly divisive election. This story tells of the prophet Jonah, a person in the throes of his own contradictory emotions. A person deeply unsettled by the task at hand. A person distraught by the restored fate of his perceived enemies. A person who feels complex things and makes complex choices. A person a lot like…

Texts: 1 Kings 17:1-16; Luke 4:24-26

Speaker: Joel Miller

“Anabaptist meeting on a boat. Pieter Pieters, ferryman, burned in Amsterdam, 1569.” Engraving by Jan Luiken in Martyrs Mirror, v. 2, p. 385 of Dutch edition. Source: Rijksmuseum

At first glance, this appears to be a fairly chill scene of folks out for a boat ride.  The waters are calm.  The rower’s relaxed position and the fact that somebody is standing up indicates the boat isn’t moving very fast, if at all. 

There are nine people in the boat, maybe a little crowded for its size.  At least two are women.  A closer look reveals that one of the men, on the right side, is holding a large open book.  Others seem to be listening, like he’s reading to them.

Looking in the background, one notices two large windmills.  From this and the outfits, one would be correct to guess that this is the Netherlands.  There’s a steeple towering above a city, back when churches were the tallest structures rather than office buildings, and the power of religion held more sway than the power of capitalism.  Which isn’t necessarily a great thing.

Maybe the style of the artist looks familiar.  If so, perhaps you’ve worshiped here in past years on the first Sunday of November when we’ve considered similar images.  Part of our All Saints/All Souls remembrance.  Or maybe you own a copy of the very large book in which these images appear, the Martyr’s Mirror.  This is one of 104 copper etchings by the artist Jan Luyken that first appeared in the 1685 edition of that collection.  Many of Luyken’s works show brutal scenes of torture endured by the Anabaptists who resisted the state-sponsored churches of the 1500s.  Some Anabaptists actively called for a reshaping of society around the needs of the poor.  Others focused on a…

Text: 2 Samuel 7:1-17; Luke 1:30-33Speaker: Mark Rupp

The High School Sunday School class that I lead is currently working through a series about politics and faith. I try to run this series every four years during presidential election seasons when political issues are especially front and center, and questions abound in people’s minds about how our faith intersects with the political landscape. We spent the first few weeks of class setting some groundwork for understanding what we even mean when we use the word “politics” and looking at some of the ways various scriptures spoke directly to the political issues of their day and, hopefully, can inspire us to think about what wisdom these passages might offer us today. 

Last Sunday I asked the class to suspend their disbelief a little more liberally than normal to imagine a world where Jesus was running for president. After a bit of well-deserved pushback from the class about how Jesus would probably never do anything like run for political office of any kind, I convinced them to go on this journey with me. And of course, we started by watching a satirical attack ad someone published on YouTube defaming Jesus as a presidential candidate. (You can watch the video HERE.)

The video had all the hallmarks of a typical attack ad: images with inverted colors to look more sinister, a narrator whose voice dripped with incredulity toward every claim made about Jesus, and out-of-context quotes extrapolated to the point of absurdity. Here are a few of my favorite quotes from the ad (and I’ll do my best to capture the right tone):

How much do you really know about the self-styled “Prince of Peace?” Millions of innocent Americans like you are going bankrupt, losing their homes. But Jesus thinks being poor just makes them blessed….

Text: 1 Samuel 1:1-20; 2:1-5; 8-10Speaker: Joel Miller

Maybe you’ve heard this story before. 

A woman who can’t have children – a barren woman – lives in anguish.  Her husband has multiple wives, and the other woman, or women, do have children, adding to the pain.  But her husband loves her most of all, and tries to comfort her, to no avail.  The woman wants, more than anything, even more than her husband’s affection, a son.  She, and others, view her barrenness as an act of God, a blessing withheld, a curse, and so an inescapable mark of shame and worthlessness.  Through some combination of divine promise, persistence, or prayer, she eventually conceives, giving birth to a son.  She rejoices in this turn of fate.  The son goes on to be such a pivotal figure that the story of their people can’t be told without him.

This is the story of Sarah and her son Isaac through Abraham, to whom Jews trace their family lineage and to whom Christians trace our spiritual lineage. 

It’s the story of Rachel and her son Joseph, through Jacob, Sarah’s grandson.  Joseph, to whom the book of Genesis dedicates over a quarter of its chapters – from his alienation from his brothers, to his rise to power in Egypt, to his reconciliation with his family, even as he enslaves all of Egypt with his grain distribution policies during a famine.                     

And it’s the story of Hannah and her son Samuel.  Childless, Hannah prays and prays for a son.  She makes a vow, that if God will give her a son, she’ll give God a priest.  She prays at the temple of Shiloh, veering far enough away from the way you’re supposed to pray in a holy place that Eli, the aging priest, accuses her of being drunk.  She names…