Sermon from 2/8/26 “The Fast I Choose”

 

Isaiah 58:1-2

          We have this Sunday plus one more before Ash Wednesday. If you look at your bulletin, you see it says “5^th Sunday After the Epiphany.” That means we are still basking in the light of that big bright star in the sky that brought the wise men to see the baby Jesus. We are still celebrating that the birth of Christ is good news for the whole world, it is an epiphany of God’s love for all the ends of the earth. So … why are we talking about fasting? Why are we reading this passage from Isaiah that is all about fasting? We still have the Shrove Tuesday feasts and Mardi Gras celebrations to look forward to. We have Super Bowl parties to go to and indulge in junk food and endless snacks while watching million dollar commercials. Why would we want to start talking about fasting before we need to?

 

          During the week I work at a hospital and I encounter people all the time who are fasting … not because they want to. Patients will tell me with exhaustion in their faces “I haven’t eaten anything in days” as they wait for surgeries and procedures or the all clear notification from their doctor. And I feel for them. Some mornings I can barely make it to noon before my stomach is growling and I am thinking about the lunch that awaits me.

 

          I used to fast every Ash Wednesday and Good Friday, but then I got pregnant and then I was nursing a baby and then another one and … 14 years later I am still trying my best to hold on to the excuse of having to care for children. But I have done what many Christians do, and that is to pick something to fast from. Usually I pick something like sweets or time scrolling on my phone or some other habit that I know is not healthy for my mind, body or soul. And that’s important and a way to focus on nourishing what is best for us.

 

          But that does require some thought … right? Thought about what is best for us. What is actually feeding us, mind, body and soul versus what we are just filling ourselves with. What focuses our attention on what God wants for us rather than taking our attention through distraction. It takes some discernment to know what to fast from, how to fast and why we are doing it. Otherwise, we are just giving something up for a while, and what good is that? Like when one of my kids says they are giving up chores for Lent.

 

          So I suppose there is some reason to be talking about fasting before Ash Wednesday, some time to reflect and consider before we are faced with the decision of how we will make our Lenten journey meaningful, what we will do to use those 40 days as a times of focus on Christ. And the reading from Isaiah today has some guidance on this. Actually, some very strong words about fasting.

 

          The passage begins with a problem. There is a breakdown in the relationship between God and the people. The people are mad and say “Why do we fast, but you do not see? Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?” They are doing what they think they should be doing, they are worshiping and fasting but it isn’t getting them what they want from God. They want to be noticed, they want to be taken care of, and so they fast but … God isn’t responding the way they think God should.

          The prophet points out that, yes, they are fasting but as they do it they fight with each other and treat each other terribly. And the response to their upset feelings is, “Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin?”

 

          In other words, the people are being challenged to fast from injustices, cruelty and a lack of kindness. Suddenly, giving up food for a bit doesn’t seem so hard … because in comparison with working to bring human dignity, justice and freedom to those who are oppressed and hurting … it seems much more doable.

 

          In his commentary on this passage, Walter Brueggemann writes, “[God] is not a God who likes to be flattered in a more or less passive routine of worship; this God is out working the neighborhood and wants all adherents doing the same.” In other words, God is not asking for empty ritual or grand acts to show religiosity, but rather, the way to get God’s attention is to be out there in the world loving God’s people.

 

          What is required for fasting is not simply the act of giving something up, but the commitment to turn from self-indulgence, the nurturing of a deep care for others, the practice of denying one’s comfort to show mercy to another. It is not simply about giving up, but also of giving.

          This past week in the Spiritual Care Department at the hospital where I work, we were preparing to make videos about the upcoming holy seasons of Lent and Ramadan. I told the Imam who was there to talk about Ramadan, that I think it is important as interfaith chaplains to be mindful of Ramadan so that we can be aware of the pain Muslim patients are experiencing when they are in the hospital and medically unable to fast and are also separated from the communal experience of Ramadan. He said that is something that Imams often address, how to care for people who are physically unable to fast. He used the example of new moms who are breastfeeding their babies. He said the act of feeding takes the place of the fast for them. I thought about that as I read this passage from Isaiah. The act of feeding another in need, is the fast. Like with the call from Isaiah to bend your heart toward others as an act of fast, as an act of devotion to God.

 

          Is that an easy way out? An excuse to not give something up as an act of sacrifice? Do we just say “I’ll make a donation to the needy” and go along our way as we blur the line between the Mardi Gras indulgences and the somber days of Lent? I don’t think so. Because, I don’t see how you can have one without the other. This passage calls us to share our bread, our house, our clothing. This requires a sacrifice of something that we have while also being with others, being part of a community, knowing, hearing and loving our neighbors. Because when we keep them at arm’s length, we don’t know them, we don’t see them, we don’t know their needs or the struggles they face.

 

 

          After these words about sharing food and your house and your clothing, the prophet says, “If you remove the yoke from among you, the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil, if you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday.” So … this is how to get God’s attention. The passage begins as the people are mad that they aren’t getting from God what they want, and here we learn that by caring for one another, by sacrificing self-indulgence and seeing your neighbor … that is how to lift the darkness and “you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail.” You will be nourished. This is the nourishment they seek, but it comes not from continually filling oneself, but from pouring oneself out through love.

 

          I think the “pointing of the finger” thing is interesting. In my New Oxford Annotated Bible, it says the pointing of the finger is “a gesture of contempt.” Which goes along with the “speaking of evil.” So … the call is not just to physically be with the neighbor and care for them but to remove contempt for them. Which … is hard because, let’s face it … people can be really annoying and mean and condescending and infuriating. And sometimes it feels like people need a good finger pointing.

 

          But I know that for me, when I feel the most annoyed or upset by another person, I am the least willing to truly see them, to see their struggles, their heart, their perspective. And when I am mad or annoyed or upset by another, the last thing I want is someone telling me to go be with them, to go be a good neighbor. Instead I want to close that door, walk away and never have to deal with them again.

 

          But here is our God, out there in the world, in the community, in the neighbor. God incarnate, God with us, God loving all of creation, each person made in God’s image. And I wonder … is it possible to know that God, with a heart closed off to God’s beloved? Perhaps, the call to fast is also a call to clear our hearts from all of the closed doors, from all of the hardened paths, from all of the walls we have put in place.

 

          It’s not an easy calling. I think I would rather just avoid ice cream for 40 days than have to feed others, clothe others, house others … love others. But this is where God says our souls are watered, this is where all of us in community are restored, by caring about the other and risking love.

 

          So as you see the calendar pages turning and the days of Lent approaching, think of what fast you choose and who you choose it for.

Sermon from 1/4/26 "In the Beginning"

 John 1:1-18

As I sat on the couch watching the ball drop in Times Square I thought about a few things. First, I thought about how convenient it was when we lived in Colorado to watch the ball drop at 10 pm our time and then send the kids to bed. Then, I thought about what the experience must be like for the over 1 million people packed into Times Square. I googled “what time do you have to arrive for New Year’s Eve at Times Square” and found a set of tips. It said that gates open at 3pm but you need to arrive much earlier, like 10 am if you want a good spot. It also says “You’ll be standing for many hours in the cold, so bring layers, snacks, water and patience.” Furthermore, “There are virtually no public restrooms, so many people wear diapers …” oh and no chairs allowed. Also, it said with wind chill, the temperature felt like it was in the teens. I felt grateful for my warm couch.

          It is an interesting thing to think about. Millions of people standing with no chairs for about 14 hours in the freezing cold … likely in wet diapers. And all to watch an occasional famous or once famous performer if you are close enough to the front and a few scattered hosts making jokes and then a giant ball descend in the last 10 seconds. And then … that’s it. It’s a new year.

          The promise of a new year is a lovely thing and I would say worth getting excited about (like silly hats and noise makers excited if not wet diaper excited). There is something alluring and promising about throwing away the old calendar and having a fresh start. It’s all about looking forward, imagining what can be and saying good bye to the past. Picturing a newer, fitter, healthier, wealthier, happier version of ourselves and with determination, deciding on a resolution or two that will get you there. It is a time of optimism, hope and the courage to commit to new things.

          One of my favorite New Year’s practices is to pray John Wesley’s Covenant Prayer which we prayed today and is in your bulletin if you want to look at the words again. I love this prayer. I love the drama of it, the strong words of commitment and determination but also of relinquishing control. These words of newly handing over all that we are to God and trusting in God’s will for us, God’s story for our new year. It is like an offering of our plans, our will, our thoughts on what is best. An offering to God, to be blessed, accepted and transformed. It is a prayer that can be said at any time, but I love saying it at the start of the new year when hearts are a bit more open to possibility and new direction.

          It is also a fitting response to an epiphany. When one realizes that all that we are comes from God and that God loves us and wants what is best for us, then one wants to respond to that epiphany with an act of devotion, like a covenant prayer. And today is when we celebrate Epiphany Sunday. The Epiphany we celebrate is the arrival of the wise men at the sight of the star over where Christ is born. While we often add the wise men to our Christmas nativity scenes, it isn’t until later, on Epiphany that we celebrate their arrival.

 

          The arrival of the wise men takes it from an intimate birth scene to an international event. The wise men represent all of us who live far from that place, all of us who come from different backgrounds, but are called to follow the star, the light of God’s love present to us in Jesus Christ. And it comes with a calling, to continue to spread the news, spread the word, tell others that God has come to earth in the form of a baby and his name is Jesus. Like New Year’s resolutions and the covenant prayer, it is marking a new start, it is forward focused, looking ahead at the new calendar and committing ourselves to a new path. In this case, a path with Christ, illuminated by the bright star of God’s love.

          It is interesting that with all of this future-focus with all of the determination to follow a new path, with all of the fresh calendars being hung, the Christmas trees on the curb for the garbage collection, the decorations being put away and the promise of a fresh new start … today’s Gospel reading has us looking not forward, but back … way back … as far back as you can get … all the way to “In the Beginning.”

          You see, the beginning of the Christmas story has different starting points in the four different Gospels (of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John) in the Bible. Luke begins his story with a telling of what happened to Zechariah and his realization that he and his wife Elizabeth would birth John the Baptist and then we hear about Mary’s encounter with the angel Gabriel and then the birth of Christ. Matthew starts his telling of the story with the lineage of Christ, showing the family line from Abraham to David to Jesus and then he tells the story of Christ’s birth. And Mark, who tends to be in much more of a hurry with his storytelling, skips all of the birth explanation and begins right with John the Baptist baptizing and Jesus coming out of the wilderness, getting baptized and getting right to work. Those are the beginnings of three of the Gospels. The other one is John, which we read today.

          John begins his telling of the story of Jesus way back to the very beginning of all of creation. Even starting with the words “In the beginning” which is meant to call the reader back to those words in Genesis and the beginning of all of creation. John explains that the Word was with God all the way at the beginning. The creation of the universe poured out from a divine intimacy between the Word and God. Creation born out of love. From the beginning, God intended to be in relationship with creation, that the Word would become flesh and dwell among us. The salvation story was always a part of it. All the way back in the beginning.

 

          I think there is something really lovely and important in taking a look back. Yes, New Year’s is a time of new beginnings and future plans and looking ahead, but also, what if we take a moment and look back. Not to see our flaws and our mistakes, but to acknowledge who we are, where we have come from, all of the brave things we have done and all the ways God has walked this journey with us.

          I thought about this as I worshipped with you all here on Christmas Eve. Sometime before the worship service I realized it had been a long time since I preached on Christmas Eve. When I decided to have my second son, I took family leave from full time ministry. For several years I stayed home with my two kids and worked as a supply pastor, filling in for clergy on vacation. I got involved at the church where my husband was serving and helped teach Sunday School and start a Vacation Bible School. And then we moved to Colorado and I worked part time on staff where my husband was the senior pastor. And when you are on staff, you don’t typically preach Christmas Eve, clergy often jokingly call the Sunday after Christmas “associate pastor’s Sunday” because the senior pastor typically covers Christmas Eve. So I realized the last time I preached a Christmas Eve service was 13 years ago.

          I remember it well. I remember taking my baby to my husband’s 4pm service and then leaving the baby with a church member as I left early to get to my service. I remember driving in the cold and dark and thinking about all the families gathering together in the pews and around dinner tables and wishing I could be with mine. But I also remember that moment, that beautiful moment when the lights were turned off, the candles lit, and the voices singing Silent Night in the dark. I remember standing in front and feeling so full of love. Looking out at the packed church and seeing the faces of college students home for Christmas, babies I had baptized, couples I had wed, families of those I had buried and I remember feeling so much love, love for them and love from them.

          As I stood up here Christmas Eve and looked up in the darkness of Silent Night to see the packed church with faces illuminated by candle light, I felt a flood of emotion. I could see all of these faces that are new to me and are so full of love and welcome and hope and I could also feel the love of all of those I have shared that moment with before, ones I follow on social media, ones I receive Christmas cards from and ones I have loved and lost. And I felt so overwhelmed with love that my breath caught and my eyes filled. It was beautiful and a moment I will cherish.

          Sometimes it is good to look back. To look back and see the faces of those who have loved us and those we have loved. To see all the twists and turns on the journey that we have weathered and to look way back, way, way back, all the way back to the very beginning and know we were always loved, from the very beginning.