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Sermon, August 23

Read this Sunday’s lessons from Exodus and Romans here. 

This text from the beginning of the book of Exodus is full of women quietly working to resist and subvert a cruel and abusive status quo. Let’s see – can we list them all? …. 

– The midwives (more about them in a moment)

– Miriam, Moses’ big sister. Text suggests that her keeping an eye on Moses in the basket – & then approaching the Egyptian princess – is her own initiative. (And we see her boldness later in the story when she’s a grown woman.) 

– Moses’ mother, named Jochebed by tradition – hiding her baby & then finding a way to give him a chance at life while also being able to say truthfully, “Yes, yes, we put him in the Nile”

– Pharaoh’s daughter – her motivations are a little inscrutable. But she certainly knows of her father’s decree of death for the Hebrew babies, and she chooses to ignore it. I wonder if she guessed the baby’s Hebrew nurse was actually his mother. 

I’m not here to idealize women as somehow universally more moral or more righteous – or more sneaky. But there is something we recognize here: something about an overwhelmingly male-dominated system, in which some women find quiet ways to resist, and do what needs doing. 

Now let’s hone in on the midwives – Sifra and Puah. The text calls Shifrah and Puah, the “Hebrew midwives.” That is the simplest translation, but it loses the ambiguity of the Hebrew. It might be better to say “the midwives of the Hebrews,” because it’s not fully clear whether these women were Hebrew or Egyptian. 

They might easily have been Egyptian midwives whose job it was to attend to births among the Hebrew population. Nothing strange about that; we have plenty of white ladies in various helper roles with communities of color in America today. 

There’s been lots of wondering about the midwives over the centuries. I learned, in preparing this sermon, that Jewish commentators have held both views for at least two thousand years. 

I’ve believed for a long time that the midwives are Egyptian. I just think that’s what makes narrative sense. Let me explain why, briefly. 

First, Pharaoh asks them to kill the Hebrew babies. Would Pharaoh be so clueless as to ask that if they were themselves Hebrew? A 16th century rabbi, Don Isaac Abarbanel, wrote, “How could Pharaoh’s mind be confident that Hebrew women would murder their own people’s babies?” It makes much more sense if the midwives were Egyptian, and Pharaoh assumed they would share his point of view – that the Hebrews were threatening outsiders whose lives don’t really matter. 

Second – when Pharaoh calls in the midwives to ask why they’re letting the babies live, both Pharaoh and the midwives speak about the Hebrews – the Israelites – as others, as a “them.” “They give birth before the midwife even arrives!”  And notice how the midwives deflect suspicion by playing into demeaning stereotypes, saying “the Hebrew women are hardy.” “Hardy” doesn’t sound so bad until you think about the contrast with the delicate, refined Egyptian women. And the Hebrew word translated as “hardy,” when used as a noun, means “animals.” Those people – their women are like beasts, they just push out a baby before we can even get there…! What can we do? 

Finally, I think the very fact that this story is HERE indicates that the midwives were Egyptian. “Dog bites man” doesn’t make a headline. Hebrew women helping other Hebrew women, likewise. But “Man bites dog” – Egyptian women helping Hebrew women defy the Egyptian king – THAT’s a story. And it’s a kind of story the Hebrew Bible likes to tell – stories of people outside the covenant, people outside of God’s chosen lineage, who nonetheless honor Israel’s God and act righteously. In one 1000-year-old text, Shifra and Puah are named as Righteous Gentiles. 

(That brings them alongside people like Ida Cook, who worked tirelessly to help Jewish children escape Europe just before the Second World War; I shared her story back in February. Another tale of secret plots to preserve life that rest on the tendency of men in power to underestimate and ignore women.) 

I believe Shifra and Puah were Egyptians, who didn’t go along with their leader and their culture, but saw and did what was right. They weren’t conformed to the world but they were transformed by the renewing of their minds, discerning the will of God. 

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God – what is good and acceptable and perfect. (Romans 12:2)

In our somewhat abbreviated Sunday gatherings, we’ve skipped a lot of the texts from Romans this summer summer. Paul’s letter to the Romans is frankly ill-suited to the Sunday lectionary. He’s building long, complex arcs of argumentation that don’t break into pieces well. But from chapter 12 onward, Paul is offering advice about living as people of faith in community, and it gets a little easier to receive and understand a piece at a time. 

There aren’t a lot of verses in the Bible that stand well on their own. Generally you need context to know what’s being said. But if you want to memorize this single verse and carry it around inside of you… you could do a lot worse. 

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God – what is good and acceptable and perfect. 

It’s a good verse for the Egyptian midwives. Other Egyptians, and their King, were saying: Look, these Hebrew workers – there are too many of them, and they’re having too many babies. We need their labor, but they’re a threat to our culture and way of life. Let’s make life harder and harder for them; let’s make them struggle, let’s make them afraid, to make sure they don’t overrun us. 

Shifra and Puah didn’t conform to that point of view. They exercised their own judgment, followed their own values.  

One thing I respect about Shifra and Puah is that they knew the difference between what’s legal and what’s right. If you, like me, have been raised in a society where the laws and the rules mostly protect and privilege people like me, it’s easy to be fuzzy on the difference – but it’s pretty important to be prepared to ask ourselves, Is what’s legal, right? And is what’s right, legal? 

Slavery was legal; so was Jim Crow segregation. The Holocaust was legal. Jesus’ execution was legal. Separating infants and toddlers from their parents, indefinitely, at the U.S. border has been legal in the very recent past. Meanwhile, in parts of our nation, people have been prosecuted for feeding the homeless; and for leaving water caches in the desert to help desperate migrants survive.

Legal is not always the same as moral. Legal is not always the same as right. Laws are made by human governments, and human governments get things wrong. 

The text says that Shifrah and Puah went rogue because they feared God. That makes sense for the Biblical text, which is very interested in non-Israelites honoring Israel’s God. But I’m not sure I believe it. 

Egyptians had their own gods, including gods associated with pregnancy and birth. Shifrah and Puah were probably devotees of Taweret, the pregnant hippopotamus-goddess who watched over births, or Meshkenet, who gave strength to women in labor. 

Deaths of mother, baby, or both in childbirth would have been common, as they have been throughout most of human history. To wrest a living baby from the womb was to win a wrestling match with death. 

Midwives are people who deeply respect the birth process and, based on the ones I’ve met, really love babies. To be a midwife is to be on the side of life, in a fundamental way. To be willing to get soaked with blood and amniotic fluid and less mentionable substances, for the sake of bringing forth and preserving life. 

I don’t think Shifrah and Puah broke Pharaoh’s command because they thought the Hebrews had a better God. I think they went rogue for the sake of life. 

And that just happened to align them with God’s purposes – because our God, the God of Israel, the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, is a god of life. 

Where would you be prepared to go rogue for the sake of life? 

The ways our governments, economies and societies deal death are, mostly, more subtle and indirect these days. In Lebanon: Government officials ignored warnings about a stockpile of explosive material in a warehouse for … six years. In our nation: A sluggish and incoherent response to a global pandemic has undoubtedly led to many more deaths than might otherwise have been. In Wisconsin, just this summer, a government committee rejected changes to state rules that would have prohibited the use of conversion therapy by licensed therapists and others.  “Conversion therapy” involves trying to change somebody’s sexual orientation or gender identity, and it’s associated with psychological harm, substance abuse, and worse. 

You probably have your own item you’d put on the list of ways our status quo compromises and damages life – and not only human life, but also creatures and ecosystems. And that brings me to another thing I respect about the midwives: their crystal-clear focus. 

Shifra and Puah had their work, their mission, their cause: Save babies. And when the interests and fears of those in power put pressure on their work, they found ways to keep saving babies.

It’s pretty normal to be overwhelmed, right now. For many of us, even an egregious news story gets kind of a “Huh” reaction at this point. There’s just too much. 

I wonder if there’s something, some hope, some value, some cause, some work, that is as bedrock-solid for you as saving babies was for Shifrah and Puah. I wonder whether God has given you a heart for that hope or value or cause or work … for a reason. 

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God – what is good and acceptable and perfect. 

Where are you prepared to go rogue for the sake of life? 

 

 

A really detailed, interesting investigation of Jewish commentary and translation issues related to the identity of the midwives: 

https://www.thetorah.com/article/the-egyptian-midwives

Bulletin, Sunday July 26

Here is the bulletin for this Sunday’s online gatherings for the people of St. Dunstan’s. It is the same for the 9am gathering and the 6:30pm gathering.   It will print on three sheets of paper, front and back. NOTE: We use slides during worship  that contain most of this information, but some prefer to follow along on paper.

Bulletin, Sunday, July 26

The link for the Zoom gatherings is available in our weekly E-news, in our Facebook group St. Dunstan’s MadCity, or by emailing Rev. Miranda:  .

THREE WAYS TO USE AN ONLINE BULLETIN…

  1. Print it out!

2. Open the bulletin on one device (smartphone or tablet) while joining Zoom worship on another device (tablet or computer).

3. On a computer, open the bulletin in a separate browser window or download and open separately, and view it next to your Zoom window.

Bulletin, July 12

Here is the bulletin for this Sunday’s online gatherings for the people of St. Dunstan’s. It is the same for the 9am gathering and the 6:30pm gathering.   It will print on three sheets of paper, front and back. NOTE: We use slides during worship  that contain most of this information, but some prefer to follow along on paper.

Bulletin, Sunday, July 12

The link for the Zoom gatherings is available in our weekly E-news, in our Facebook group St. Dunstan’s MadCity, or by emailing Rev. Miranda:  .

THREE WAYS TO USE AN ONLINE BULLETIN…

  1. Print it out!

2. Open the bulletin on one device (smartphone or tablet) while joining Zoom worship on another device (tablet or computer).

3. On a computer, open the bulletin in a separate browser window or download and open separately, and view it next to your Zoom window.

Fourth of July Readings

Here is the list of readings for our gathering Saturday at 9am.  We’ll use the regular Sunday Zoom gathering link. Let Rev. Miranda know if you’d like to do one!

Click here to read the readings in full and choose one.

Excerpts from the Declaration of Independence

Reading from Chief Seattle

Poem: America, I Sing Back 

Reading from Sojourner Truth (short)

Reading from Frederick Douglass

Poem: I, Too

Reading from Amelia Bloomer

Reading from Jose Marti (short)

Reading from FDR (short)

Reading from Dr. King 

Poem: Revenge

Bulletin, June 14

Here is the bulletin for this Sunday’s online gatherings for the people of St. Dunstan’s. It is the same for the 9am gathering and the 6:30pm gathering.   It will print on three sheets of paper, front and back. NOTE: We use slides during worship  that contain most of this information, but some prefer to follow along on paper.

Bulletin, Sunday, June 14

The link for the Zoom gatherings is available in our weekly E-news, in our Facebook group St. Dunstan’s MadCity, or by emailing Rev. Miranda:  .

THREE WAYS TO USE AN ONLINE BULLETIN…

  1. Print it out!
  2. Open the bulletin on one device (smartphone or tablet) while joining Zoom worship on another device (tablet or computer).
  3. On a computer, open the bulletin in a separate browser window or download and open separately, and view it next to your Zoom window.

Bulletin, May 24

Here is the bulletin for this Sunday’s online gatherings for the people of St. Dunstan’s. It is the same for the 9am gathering and the 6:30pm gathering. NOTE: There are TWO versions. The first contains the full text of the reading and is in relatively large print. It fits on four pages. The second is in smaller type, and does not include full text of prayers, etc.  It fits on the front and back of one sheet of paper.

Bulletin, Sunday, May 24 – Full Version

Bulletin, Sunday, May 24 – Short Version

The link for the Zoom gatherings is available in our weekly E-news, in our Facebook group St. Dunstan’s MadCity, or by emailing Rev. Miranda: .

THREE WAYS TO USE AN ONLINE BULLETIN…

  1. Print it out!
  2. Open the bulletin on one device (smartphone or tablet) while joining Zoom worship on another device (tablet or computer).
  3. On a computer, open the bulletin in a separate browser window or download and open separately, and view it next to your Zoom window.

Sermon, May 3

Acts 2:37-38, 42-47: Now when they heard Peter’s preaching, the crowd were cut to the heart and said to Peter and to the other apostles, ‘Brothers, what should we do?’ Peter said to them, ‘Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ.” So those who welcomed his message were baptized, and that day about three thousand persons were added. They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers. Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread in one house after another and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.

I’m going to start with a question. How does it feel to stub your toe? … Pain; suddenness; surprise; shock…  

So I’m preaching today on this passage from early in the book of Acts. Remember, Acts is the sequel to the Gospel of Luke – written in the same voice, carrying forward many of the same themes. This passage comes shortly after the Pentecost story, which we’ll share at the end of May. It’s describing the common life of the first Christians in Jerusalem: A growing community of believers, united in practices of study, prayer, sharing their possessions, and breaking bread together. 

We are several steps away from what we would recognize as the Eucharist, but this breaking of bread is very clearly a holy meal that evokes Jesus’ presence. We know that because if we think of Luke and Acts as one book, then the Emmaus story we JUST had last week, when Jesus is made known to the disciples in the breaking of the bread, was about a chapter and a half ago. 

So: Breaking bread together is a central practice for this new faith community – and I really love how it’s described here. They would meet at a different person’s home each week; and they would break bread and eat together with glad and generous hearts. 

Now, the NRSV, our usual Bible translation, is doing something it often does: it’s choosing to be clear rather than literal. David Bentley Hart, who tries to stay close to the Greek syntax, renders that phrase as “gladness and simplicity of heart.” One of our prayers after communion follows the King James translation: “Gladness and singleness of heart.”

When you see a word variously translated as generous, simple or single, you start to wonder about that word. So I looked it up. It’s a great word. It’s only used once in the Bible; this is it. And what it literally means is, Not stubbable. Nothing to stub on. Nothing to cause that moment of shock and pain and interruption. 

“Gladness and unstubbability of heart.”  This early Christian community, sharing food and homes and possessions gladly, growing in numbers and faith, had nothing to stub their hearts on.

I don’t know about you but that really sticks with me because I feel like there is so much to stub our hearts on, right now. We’re going about our business and suddenly something brings us up short, with a sudden jolt of pain. Ouch. A loss; a need; an impossibility; a memory of Before. 

I keep asking myself, dear ones, whether to continue preaching to this season – or whether I should try to preach as if we weren’t in these circumstances.  I can imagine that some people might want a break. Eight to ten minutes of not thinking about it. But I can’t figure out how to do that. At least, I haven’t yet. So, here we are. Remembering Before, wondering about After. 

Which actually situates us well to think about this Acts text. This is a text of nostalgia. Of looking back on the good old days. And it always has been, from the moment it was written down, perhaps forty to fifty years after the events it describes. 

This text said to its first readers exactly what it says to us: Back at the beginning, we really had things right.  People were joining the church like crazy; we couldn’t baptize them fast enough; and MAN, you should have seen our potlucks. Everybody came to church every week, and showed up for Bible study too; and everybody was kind and faithful and generous and happy. 

(If nothing else, this text tells us that churches have been looking back on their own good old days for as long as there have been churches!)  

And then… stuff happened. Things got messy. Church got complicated. Christian communities became fractured by many things: persecution without, divisions within – and even by success, which led to growth, which led to institutionalization and the loss of the intimacy and spontaneity of the early years. 

This is a text that looks back fondly on a remembered past. And that means that it is undoubtedly smoothing things over – making the past simple and pure and good, as we often do. Forgetting the hard moments and rough edges and awkward growing pains; keeping skeletons safely locked in closets; romanticizing our memories in ways that sometimes run the risk of making the past the enemy of the present and the future. 

But while we have to read texts like this with several grains of salt, they can also tell us something. They tell us what we, and those who went before us, have chosen to remember; have held onto, through time and change. The stories we tell, the memories we treasure and carry with us and pass on to the next generation, are themselves formative.

And when we’re carrying those memories into and through real change – as the early church did – they tell us what was important enough to try to continue or restore or re-imagine. 

The truth is that we’re always living in an After. We’re always deciding – as individuals, as households, as communities or institutions – what matters enough to carry it forward and pass it on. We’re just more likely to notice this process, in times of swift and unwelcome change. 

So, what are we carrying forward? 

One thing is what we’re doing right now: trying to hear how a Scriptural text speaks to us, and then carry that beyond this set-apart time into the rest of our lives.  (I realize with all due humility that my rambling may or may not be part of that process for you in any given week!) 

How we show up at church, and what we do the rest of the week, has changed a lot for many of us.  But we still need to gather to be reminded who and whose we are,  to find our place in a story that is both ancient and ever new, and to find direction and meaning for our daily living.

One of the things we do in our Compline gatherings, borrowed from the youth group who borrowed it from somewhere, is to read a passage of Scripture and ask ourselves and one another if there is something God is asking me to be or do or change.

Now, the Holy Spirit can speak to our hearts through Scripture in many ways; but one answer this Acts passage fairly SHOUTS is, Share. In these few eloquent verses, this writer holds up generosity as a fundamental way of being for the early Christian community. 

Some scholars think this might be why Christianity grew – this weird little sect that said that God was a human being and sometimes they eat him – pretty weird! But on the other hand, they really look after each other. And if you come to them, they’ll look after you, too.  

Generosity, sharing, is a practice – in the sense of a thing we do, and in the sense of a thing we get better at the more we do it. It’s one of many faith practices, which help form us into the people we intend to be – the people we believe God has called us to be.  In our current circumstances, attention to our faith practices can help us feel connected to deeper values and a bigger picture. They can remind us that despite how it may feel, we still have agency – we still have scope and capacity to choose and to act. 

So this week, in response to this text, in solidarity with our long-ago faith ancestors, in bold affirmation that even scattered, isolated, and afraid, we are still God’s people: I am inviting you to try out one intentional act of sharing, of generosity. Yes, I’m giving you homework, but it shouldn’t be a burden. 

It doesn’t have to be big; I encourage you to think small! It could be letting your little brother use some of your crayons, or giving your partner a bite of your chocolate, or taking time to check in on someone and hear how they’re doing, or picking up some trash in your neighborhood park, or finding someone who would really appreciate those puzzles that are gathering dust in your basement, or chipping in $10 or $5 or $2 to an agency or fund that’s helping those in need. 

What I’m suggesting is some small act of generosity that is a step beyond what you might otherwise do; and that you do with intention, as a follower of Jesus and an offering to God. 

What I want for us to feel and know, dear ones, is that even in these strangely small days, we remain a people chosen and called; a people blessed to be a blessing to others; and a people loved, upheld, and empowered by grace. 

Does anyone have something in mind already as a small act of sharing you might do this week?…