What We See

1 Samuel 15:34-16:13          Then Samuel went to Ramah; and Saul went up to his house in Gibeah of Saul. Samuel did not see Saul again until the day of his death, but Samuel grieved over Saul. And the Lord was sorry that he had made Saul king over Israel.

The Lord said to Samuel, “How long will you grieve over Saul? I have rejected him from being king over Israel. Fill your horn with oil and set out; I will send you to Jesse the Bethlehemite, for I have provided for myself a king among his sons.” Samuel said, “How can I go? If Saul hears of it, he will kill me.” And the Lord said, “Take a heifer with you, and say, ‘I have come to sacrifice to the Lord.’ Invite Jesse to the sacrifice, and I will show you what you shall do; and you shall anoint for me the one whom I name to you.” Samuel did what the Lord commanded, and came to Bethlehem. The elders of the city came to meet him trembling, and said, “Do you come peaceably?” He said, “Peaceably; I have come to sacrifice to the Lord; sanctify yourselves and come with me to the sacrifice.” And he sanctified Jesse and his sons and invited them to the sacrifice.

When they came, he looked on Eliab and thought, “Surely the Lord’s anointed is now before the Lord.” But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” Then Jesse called Abinadab, and made him pass before Samuel. He said, “Neither has the Lord chosen this one.” Then Jesse made Shammah pass by. And he said, “Neither has the Lord chosen this one.” Jesse made seven of his sons pass before Samuel, and Samuel said to Jesse, “The Lord has not chosen any of these.” Samuel said to Jesse, “Are all your sons here?” And he said, “There remains yet the youngest, but he is keeping the sheep.” And Samuel said to Jesse, “Send and bring him; for we will not sit down until he comes here.” He sent and brought him in. Now he was ruddy, and had beautiful eyes, and was handsome. The Lord said, “Rise and anoint him; for this is the one.” Then Samuel took the horn of oil, and anointed him in the presence of his brothers; and the spirit of the Lord came mightily upon David from that day forward. Samuel then set out and went to Ramah.

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Some people did this project where they took photos of Victoria’s Secret swimsuit models and put them next to photos of ordinary women of every shape and size wearing the same suit and striking the same pose.  Can you picture it?  It looks like they were having a whole lot of fun doing it.  But the most interesting part is that the photos were captioned by the women’s comments.  They said things like:

“Don’t compare yourself to the model. Very few of us are the model”

“It’s really hard to be objective about your own body — so when someone says something nice about you, you should believe them”

“Having airbrushed skin and zero fat doesn’t make you beautiful; having confidence and radiating that confidence makes you beautiful — ‘flaws’ and all”

And so, you can laugh at the pictures of them … or you can listen to what they have to say, and think about what we see when we look at someone. 

The story of Saul and David, the first two kings of Israel, asks us to think about what we see when we look at one another, and when we look at ourselves.  On this subject, there is much that lies below the surface.

When God sent Samuel out in search of a new king to replace Saul, God had to teach Samuel how to see.  Because Samuel was just like us – when he looked at a person, he saw the outward appearance.  And he made certain judgments based on that appearance, just as we all do.

We talked about this at the roundtable – the fact that leaders in business and politics tend to be men (yes, mostly men) who are tall, good-looking, not too heavy.  You may remember that there was a lot of discussion not too long ago about Governor Chris Christy’s weight, and whether he could be a viable candidate for president unless he went on a diet.  These are all indicators of attractiveness.

Another indicator of attractiveness is youth.  One person commented that in China all the leaders seem to have black hair – but is it because they are young or because they use dye to cover the gray?  We can guess.  We have a certain image of what a leader should look like.

Ancient Israel had an image of what a leader should look like, and Saul fit the bill. He was a man of kingly stature.  He stood head and shoulders above everyone else; this is what the scripture says about him, more than once.  Saul looked the part, and when he was presented to the people they shouted, “Long live the king!”

David, on the other hand, did not.  When Samuel came to the house of Jesse, and asked Jesse to present all his sons, they lined up and passed before him – kind of like a beauty pageant, seven strong and healthy young men.  But no one even thought of including David.  He was a puny little thing.

Samuel was reflexively drawn to the eldest, the tallest son, but the Lord held him back and reminded him:  Remember, the Lord does not see as mortals do.  The Lord is not swayed by rugged good looks, broad shoulders, and tall stature.  The Lord looks upon the heart.

The Lord is not swayed by a trim waistline and long legs.  The Lord looks upon the heart.

The Lord is not swayed by the smoothness of one’s hair and the color of one’s skin.  The Lord looks upon the heart.

I wish I could understand why it is so hard for us to do the same thing.

We need to talk about racism.  We need to accept that it is pervasive in our land and it hurts people every single day.  It is powerful, and this is true, in large part, because we are influenced by what we see – and what we see in the outward appearance often prevents us from looking upon the heart.

I know that it is an infection in my own heart.  I am aware that I form judgments of people the instant I lay eyes on them.  I put them into categories based on their clothes, their shoes, the way their hair looks, the way they walk.  I can look at a person across the street and without knowing anything more than what I can see, a part of my brain decides what kind of person she is.  And I am quite sure that others look at me and do the same thing. We are all about making decisions, making judgments; we are doing it every conscious moment.

We look at a young Chinese woman and see someone who could tutor our children in math.  We look at a Hispanic man and see someone who has no right to be here.  We look at a young black man walking down the sidewalk toward us and we see someone to fear. 

These statements are generalizations, of course.  They are not true for everyone; they are not true all the time.  But such prejudgments are the fuel that drives the violence we saw in Charleston on June 17.  And we all, every one of us, suffers and pays a price when that kind of hatred prevails.

When we judge someone based only on his appearance, when we fail to see the humanity – the image of God – inside that person, when we reduce him to an object of our resentment, we are allowing hate to rule.  We all suffer when that happens, and the Lord is sorry to see what we have done.

As we were discussing at the roundtable the ways we look upon the outward appearance of a man or a woman, one voice posed a question, “I wonder how Dylann Roof appeared to the men and women in that room, who studied and prayed with him for an hour before he shot them.”

Since that day I have thought frequently about what we would do here at Faith if someone like Dylann walked through our doors and asked to join us for a Bible study.  I know the answer.  We would say, “Have a seat.  You are welcome.”  We might wonder if there was something else he wanted.  We might assume that after the study was finished he would let us know that he needed money or food or a ride.  We might expect that he would wait around until he could have a private conversation with the pastor, to talk about something that is troubling his spirit.  These are the things we would probably think about this young man if he walked into our church, and these may have been the kind of things the people of Mother Emanuel were thinking as well, as they looked on his outward appearance.  We know what Dylann thought of them based on their outward appearance. 

A friend of mine said that he tries to remember their names – the victims.  And he stands in front of the mirror, looking at his reflection, and says the names out loud.  Cynthia Hurd; Susie Jackson, Ethel Lance, DePayne Middleton-Doctor, Clementa Pinckney, Tywanza Sanders, Daniel Simmons Sr., Sharonda Singleton, Myra Thompson.  Try this.  Acknowledge that who we are and who they were is no different.  We are made of the same stuff.  And furthermore, I am made of the same stuff as Dylann Roof, a young man who thought so little of life that he could do what he did with a handgun.  There are many others like Dylann, but you know we are all made of the same stuff.

During that last confrontation Saul had with the prophet Samuel, before they parted ways, there was something very important Samuel said to him.  He said, “Though you are little in your own eyes, are you not the head of the tribes of Israel? Saul, the Lord anointed you king over Israel.” 

Saul could not see himself as God saw him.  Saul could not live into God’s image of him, and this was his downfall.

How different things might have been if Saul could have seen himself the way God did.  How different things might be today at Mother Emanuel Church if Dylann Roof could have seen himself and the others in that room the way God does.  How different might the world be if we could see ourselves, and everyone else, the way God sees us?

I don’t expect that we will get there in this lifetime.  But I am not without hope, because the power of Jesus Christ, crucified and risen, gives us the strength to choose love over hate, to choose forgiveness over vengefulness, to choose courage over fear, and to just take the next step in the right direction – with the Lord leading us on.

All glory and honor and praise be to him, Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

The Gifts of Women

Ruth 1:7-22    So she set out from the place where she had been living, she and her two daughters-in-law, and they went on their way to go back to the land of Judah. But Naomi said to her two daughters-in-law, “Go back each of you to your mother’s house. May the Lord deal kindly with you, as you have dealt with the dead and with me. The Lord grant that you may find security, each of you in the house of your husband.” Then she kissed them, and they wept aloud. They said to her, “No, we will return with you to your people.” But Naomi said, “Turn back, my daughters, why will you go with me? Do I still have sons in my womb that they may become your husbands? Turn back, my daughters, go your way, for I am too old to have a husband. Even if I thought there was hope for me, even if I should have a husband tonight and bear sons, would you then wait until they were grown? Would you then refrain from marrying? No, my daughters, it has been far more bitter for me than for you, because the hand of the Lord has turned against me.” Then they wept aloud again. Orpah kissed her mother-in-law, but Ruth clung to her. So she said, “See, your sister-in-law has gone back to her people and to her gods; return after your sister-in-law.” But Ruth said, “Do not press me to leave you or to turn back from following you! Where you go, I will go; Where you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die, I will die— there will I be buried. May the Lord do thus and so to me, and more as well, if even death parts me from you!” When Naomi saw that she was determined to go with her, she said no more to her.

So the two of them went on until they came to Bethlehem. When they came to Bethlehem, the whole town was stirred because of them; and the women said, “Is this Naomi?” She said to them, “Call me no longer Naomi, call me Mara, for the Almighty has dealt bitterly with me. I went away full, but the Lord has brought me back empty; why call me Naomi when the Lord has dealt harshly with me, and the Almighty has brought calamity upon me?” So Naomi returned together with Ruth the Moabite, her daughter-in-law, who came back with her from the country of Moab. They came to Bethlehem at the beginning of the barley harvest.

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I wonder what everyone is thinking when they see Naomi and Ruth arriving in Bethlehem.  Two unaccompanied women walk into town.  But women should not travel unaccompanied.  In fact, women should not exist unaccompanied in this world.  I know that sounds harsh, but it is a harsh world in which they live.  A woman without a man is no one and nothing. 

This is the world in which they lived.  This is the plight they faced. 

As they draw near, the people of Bethlehem see that one of these women looks familiar.  Is this Naomi, the woman who left years ago with her husband and her two sons?  What a fine family they were.  But what brings her back now, and why is she alone?

And who is this stranger with her?  She looks foreign.  We don’t know her, we don’t trust her, she isn’t one of us, of that we’re quite sure.  So why is she with Naomi?

The women of Bethlehem approach Naomi tentatively.  Is it you, Naomi?  Yes, but don’t call me that anymore.  Sweetness?  I am no longer that girl.  Call me Mara, call me bitter, for the Lord has dealt harshly with me and I have not forgiven God yet.

I think the others might have unconsciously backed away then, just ever so slightly.  How off-putting she was, an angry, bitter, empty woman. I don’t know if they saw in Naomi the need that was there, as she was wearing this angry shell.  But Ruth did.

In this world, at this time, there was no place for Naomi and Ruth – a pair of widows, outcasts.  A woman with no husband and no sons had no one – no one and nothing.  It was a very harsh world for Ruth and Naomi.

Back in Bethlehem, the first thing was to figure out how they would survive there.  It was the time of the barley harvest and they had the right to glean in the fields.  This was a right reserved for the destitute – to walk through the fields behind the harvesters, plucking up what they had missed or dropped on the ground.  It was not much, but enough to get you through the day.  Naomi, presumably, was too old to work in the fields, so Ruth gleaned for both of them. 

You should know, as Naomi and Ruth knew, that this was a precarious way to make a living.  This was truly a hand to mouth existence.  One small misfortune could be the end of everything.  I think they knew they needed another way.  In a world where there was no way.

Well, this is where the story gets really great.  Using Naomi’s wisdom and Ruth’s youth they devised a way.  They found a kinsman, an upstanding, righteous man named Boaz – his name means “in him there is strength,” so there you have it.  Ruth had the youth and grace and beauty to arouse his attention and interest.  Naomi had the knowledge of the customs and laws of the land.  Together they made something good happen.  With Boaz, they could make a claim on the land that would have belonged to Elimelech’s descendants.  To make a long story short, Boaz married Ruth and she gave birth to a son, whom they named Obed.  Obed would someday have a grandson named David.  King David.

All this because two women, Naomi and Ruth, clung to each other and found a way out of no way.  I wonder if, perhaps, this is one of the gifts of women. 

Throughout history, women have been denied the rights of personhood. They could not own property; they could not even own their own bodies.  They could not have a career, they could not vote.  They could not divorce their husbands, although their husbands could divorce them if they wanted to.  There were very few decisions a woman could make for herself throughout most of history.  But women found strength in one another.  And in putting their heads together they could find a way around many of the restrictions to get what they needed, to survive, to thrive.  One thing women knew, from their personal experience, is the idea of rugged individualism is pretty ridiculous.  When the cards are stacked against you, you are nothing without friends.

The world is different now than it was for Naomi and Ruth.  We see how wrong it is – how absurd it is – to try to deprive women of their full personhood.  We can look at the quiverfull movement of the Duggars and other families and know how outrageous it is to treat women as objects to be utilized for childbearing and little more.  We know that women have many gifts to offer, much like men do, and are quite capable of being fully functioning human beings in society.  In our world it’s hard to get our heads around the reality of Naomi’s world, Ruth’s world. 

But it might be worthwhile to remember how it was, and to recognize the special gifts of women that got them through all kinds of stuff.  It’s worth remembering how it was for many reasons, not least of which is that women still carry these gifts within them.

We don’t shrug off millions of years of history and evolution that easily.  I think women still intuitively grasp that there is strength to be found in the shelter of one another. 

Ruth committed herself to Naomi, and Naomi then committed herself to Ruth.  Together they had a chance.  Even though they still didn’t have any rights, they had the strength they drew from one another, the imagination and energy and resourcefulness they needed to make a way in the world.

One of the women at the roundtable told a story from her own life.  When she was a young bride her husband went off to war. She was pregnant with her firstborn, and she went to live with her mother-in-law and sisters-in-law while her husband was on the other side of the world.  Her mother in law was a widow.  She supported the family by running a printing business in the basement of their home.  Sometimes she would work all night long, running the printing press down in the basement.  The younger women all pitched in with the work around the house, some of them had jobs outside the house, and together they made a way under very difficult circumstances. 

Months went by and this young woman learned that her husband was missing in action.  Later, they learned that he was being held as a prisoner of war.  Through it all, they found strength in one another.  There came to be a bond of love and appreciation between these women – mother and daughter in law. 

The fact of the matter is we do need one another – women and men, both. It is probably something that men learn in war – that they need one another – but I think women learn it in the rhythms of daily life: the bearing and raising of children, in sickness and in loss.  Like the poet John Donne said, no man is an island entire of itself; no woman is either.  We may feel independent and invulnerable in our strong moments.  But in our weakness we know how very much we need one another.

I am grateful for the women who cared for me over the years of my life, and those who still do.  I am grateful for the women who have inspired me to be more caring, more welcoming, more courageous, more giving by the example they set with their lives.  I am grateful to have been surrounded by strong and wise and generous women, because without them I don’t know what I would be or where I would be today. 

May we give thanks for the Naomis in our lives, who have guided us and shown us the way in times and places when there seemed to be no way.  May we give thanks for the Ruths in our lives who have blessed us with their loyalty and their steadfast love, supporting us when we could not support ourselves.  And may we learn from these fine women and do likewise.

The Invitation

Isaiah 6:1-8    In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, high and lofty; and the hem of his robe filled the temple. Seraphs were in attendance above him; each had six wings: with two they covered their faces, and with two they covered their feet, and with two they flew. And one called to another and said: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.” The pivots on the thresholds shook at the voices of those who called, and the house filled with smoke.

And I said: “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!” Then one of the seraphs flew to me, holding a live coal that had been taken from the altar with a pair of tongs. The seraph touched my mouth with it and said: “Now that this has touched your lips, your guilt has departed and your sin is blotted out.” Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” And I said, “Here am I; send me!”

John 3:1-17    Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. He came to Jesus by night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.” Jesus answered him, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?” Jesus answered, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be astonished that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’ The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?” Jesus answered him, “Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things? “Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet you do not receive our testimony. If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. “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.

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There are all sorts of rules related to invitations.  Rules that may seem confusing and mysterious to us, although there are books on etiquette you can read that will tell you all you need to know.  

Recently we received an invitation to a family wedding.  In fact, Kim and I received one invitation and each of our children received a separate invitation, letting them know they were invited and that they were invited to bring a date.  We all appreciated that the invitations made that clear, because it’s a question that feels awkward to ask.

The invitation included several cards in it.  One was a response card with a self-addressed stamped return envelope, so we can rsvp.  Another was an invitation to a pre-wedding dinner and another was an invitation to a post-wedding brunch, each of these including instructions for how to rsvp, by phone or email.  I appreciated all the detail because it was a complicated affair and we surely would have been confused and made mistakes without the clear instructions.

Not every event requires such formal invitations, fortunately.  But one thing is always true – an invitation wants a response.  Or, in the French, repondez – s’il vous plait!

In our scripture readings today we hear invitations.  In the story from Isaiah, the prophet is confronted with a vision of God that is so overpowering all Isaiah can think of is his own unworthiness.  “Woe is me!” is his reply.  But then the invitation is made explicit to him: Whom shall I send?  And the prophet replies, “Here am I; send me.”  He says yes; he accepts the invitation.

It’s a “call story,” of which there are many in the scriptures.  The call stories show us how God now and again reaches down and chooses someone for some work.  Each of the prophets of Israel is called by God, each of the disciples is called by Jesus. 

But it’s not very clear whether Nicodemus is called, is it?

He approaches Jesus in the dark of night, probably wanting to avoid being seen by others.  He was a Pharisee, after all, one of those who stood opposed to Jesus’ teaching.  But the fact that he comes at all is a response – a response to what he has seen and heard and felt.  Something about Jesus has touched him, and he responds to that by coming.

However, the conversation between the two men begins to look like a disaster for Nicodemus.  He is too literal-minded and fails to understand what Jesus is saying to him.  I am not without sympathy for Nicodemus, because it almost seems as if Jesus is being deliberately obtuse.  He might have helped Nicodemus out a little bit more.  But as it worked out, Nicodemus seemed to get more confused each step of the way, and he retreated, back into the dark.

He was not sure what he was being invited to and he didn’t know how to respond.

I wonder how many of us receive a call, an invitation, we don’t understand and don’t know how to respond to.

When I was a young woman I would sometimes be filled with a powerful sense that God was calling me to something.  I had the seraphs and the smoke and the Holy, Holy, Holy part – not literally, of course; I just mean a clear sense of the grandeur and power of God – but I didn’t hear the voice saying, “Whom shall I send?”  I didn’t get the invitation.

Not until some years later, anyway.  One day I did hear the voice, and the invitation clearly had my name on it.  Now it was up to me to respond.  So at last I knew what I was invited to.  At last, I could respond.  That didn’t make it easy, but at least I knew.

We often use the word discernment to describe the process of listening and trying to hear and understand the call, the invitation God sends out.  Our church nominating committee works together to discern who among us God might be calling to serve as elders and deacons.  Then they approach certain individuals and ask them to prayerfully discern whether God is, indeed, calling them, inviting them, to serve. 

It is entirely possible that you didn’t know that’s how the process works.  I think the nominating committee should consider sending out engraved invitations to the men and women they ask to serve – to let them know the distinction of this invitation. 

Those who have served on the committee know it is not easy work.  There is not a simple process to follow, although there is a temptation to simplify it by going through the membership book, alphabetically, and checking off names as you call them.  There is no blueprint for making this work; it requires faith and trust.  It absolutely requires the Holy Spirit; by the power of the Holy Spirit we hear the invitation.

Last Sunday, we heard the story of Pentecost.  On that day the apostles received the Holy Spirit and they were empowered to speak and share the good news. This was their invitation into the life of the Church – a powerful invitation.  And by their response this was the beginning of the church.  The Spirit invited, the Spirit enabled them to respond.  Without the Spirit there would be no church.

I don’t just mean that the Spirit was necessary to launch the church; the Spirit is necessary every day to sustain the life of the church. 

By the power of the Holy Spirit we can hear the invitation and respond to the invitation. 

On Trinity Sunday, we can try to explain the trinity – which I sometimes have tried to do, foolish as I am.  But I believe it might be more fruitful on this day to contemplate the Spirit, and how the Spirit works, inviting us into the fellowship of God.

Once I took a confirmation class on an overnight retreat during which they were supposed to write their joint statement of faith.  All went pretty well; there was one argument about some wording, but by pausing for prayer, and to take some deep breathes, we worked through that.  And then they were pleased to show me what they had accomplished.  They had a beautiful statement with only one problem I could see: there was no Holy Spirit in it.

They simply didn’t know what to say about the Spirit, so they left the Spirit out.  The problem is, though, if we leave the Spirit out we are leaving ourselves out.  We need the Spirit to hear the invitation, and we need the Spirit to respond to the invitation.

Some people say the best explanation of the trinity, if we must explain the trinity, is to say there are a father and a son in a relationship, and the Spirit is the love that flows between them.  And this love that flows between them is so bountiful it overflows and creates, sustains, and enlivens the world and all who are in it.

That gives us a different way of seeing it and thinking about it, doesn’t it?  A helpful way of seeing how the Spirit is important in our faith and our lives.

On that dark night Nicodemus visited Jesus, he was given an invitation into the life of the Spirit, into the fellowship of God.  Perhaps it wasn’t as clear as some invitations are.  When Jesus stopped at the lakeshore and called out to Peter and Andrew, “Follow me,” there was no mistaking it for an invitation.  And so they dropped their nets and followed him.  Others would be invited to follow, some would say yes and some would say no.  Perhaps not give an outright no, but offer several excellent excuses for why they could not come.

In the case of Nicodemus, the invitation was not so clear, nor was the response.  Nicodemus walked away into the darkness saying nothing.  But this is not the last we will see of him. 

Some invitations knock you off your feet with their directness, and their demand for a response.  Other invitations are subtle, taking some time and care to discern.  I think most invitations we receive from God are of the subtle variety.  That is why it takes the communal discernment of the nominating committee to extend the invitation to serve in a leadership capacity.  Then it takes the prayerful consideration of those who have been chosen to discern whether they are also hearing a call.  Finally it takes this whole congregation to affirm the call.  And today we ordain and install into leadership those who have affirmed and been affirmed. 

But let us remember that although there are many particular calls, the call into the fellowship of Christ is universal.  It’s in this conversation with Nicodemus that Jesus utters those famous words: 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.  And in this we may hear the invitation we have all received.  God sent the Son as an invitation to life, to love, to peace.  Through the Spirit we may say yes.

May you say yes.