By The Rev. Dr. Molly Scherm

​In this morning’s readings we’ve witnessed moments in which Moses and Peter are being called to leadership.  Both take place in times in which God’s children are suffering and in need, and God summons leaders to assist with the work of deliverance.

One of the things I appreciate about worshipping in a lectionary-based church tradition is that we follow a three-year cycle of designated readings.  The readings we heard this morning are the same ones we heard on this week in 2023, and 2020, and so forth.  I find that as we hear these stories in different contexts than existed in 2023 or 2020, we hear different things.

In the last couple of weeks I’ve read a couple of commentaries on these readings that have focused my attention on a particular theme running through today’s scripture.  The theme that my reading has invited me to think about – and so I’m inviting you to come along - is that of what it means for faith to confront empire.

Today’s gospel is the second half of a conversation that began in last week’s gospel.  As you’ll recall, Jesus had brought the disciples to Caesarea Phillipi and, as we heard last week, asked them “Who do you say that I am?”  Peter won the gold star (and the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven, no less,) by answering that Jesus was “the Messiah, the Son of the living God”.  

As the conversation continues this morning, however, things take a turn.  Jesus tells the disciples that in heading to Jerusalem, he is facing suffering and death, and that the disciples must be ready, themselves, to experience the same fate.

Peter does not like or accept this news.  He “rebukes” Jesus, and is, in turn, chastised by Jesus for his response.   Jesus calls him a “stumbling block”, because, Jesus says, Peter is “setting [his] mind not on divine things but on human things.”

And there’s the crunch – for Peter, and for all of us.  Which vision of power and strength are Peter and the other disciples going to accept and emulate – the way of the imperial power of Rome, embodied in the metropolis of Caesaria Phillipi where the conversation took place - which was named by Phillip, the son of Herod the Great, after Caesar and himself - or the way of God, a way of humility, service and love?

Rome in the first century exercised (and maintained) its power and authority through coercion and through violence.  It controlled the occupants of the Jewish provinces of Galilee and Judea through oppressive economic practices and it executed opponents of the realm.  It achieved strength and security through force.  This was the model that the people (including the disciples) understood, and it formed the basis for the Jewish hope that the promised Messiah would save them by following the model of the warrior-king, David.

Jesus, before this excursion to Caesaria Phillipi, had exercised what was pretty much exclusively a ministry of service – teaching, feeding, and healing.  Not long before this, however, he began the journey toward Jerusalem.  The growing conflict with his critics among the religious leadership may have brought Jesus to a conclusion that confrontation with the powers of empire could not be avoided, and must be faced.  

He well may have come to feel that confrontation with the oppressive power of the state was in fact a part of his ministry and not just an unfortunate by-product.  His journey to Jerusalem reflected a readiness to confront the system that caused so much of the suffering of his people.  Jesus was turning to activism as part of the way of love.  He wanted his disciples to understand that the inevitable result of a commitment to non-violent love and service, part of the consequence of speaking truth to power, would be suffering and death.

Peter couldn’t wrap his head around it.  “God forbid it, Lord”, he cried.  Episcopal priest and blogger Andrew Thayer, one of the commentators I said had recently influenced my thinking about this passage, offers the observation that Peter, despite his sincere love for and commitment to Jesus, remained in thrall to the empire’s imperial approach – all of the way to the end.  When the soldiers arrived at the Garden of Gethsemane to arrest Jesus, Thayer reminds us, Peter drew a sword and cut off the ear of one of the party.  He still looked for force to provide security.

This question of the choice between acceptance of imperial power and authority and commitment to the way of the gospel, a way of sacrificial love, compassion, and inclusivity that opens one to suffering, is always a choice.  
I’m not going to take time to explore it in depth this morning, but want to register that, not for the first time in human history, the name of Jesus Christ is today being wedded to an ideology that advocates use of force, conquest, domination, and exclusion to achieve supremacy.  Christian Nationalism, a growing movement in the US, promotes the notion that the United States was founded as a Christian nation and must be shaped by so-called “biblical principles”.  

Among those “principles”, according to the research of the Kettering Foundation, are traditional social hierarchies which include defined gender roles, rejection of racial and ethnic diversity in favor of racial and cultural uniformity, and a preference for authoritarian social control.  Christian Nationalism undergirds the practice of arrest, internment and expulsion of non-citizens, particularly those of color.  It is fueling the rise of Antisemitism and Islamophobia.  It is not the Christianity that our Anglican tradition calls us to.

But our readings this morning offer us another model, and we find it in Moses’ call to leadership at the burning bush.  In the Exodus story, God’s people have cried out in suffering under the grip of enslavement by the Pharaoh of Egypt, the imperial power of that time.  God’s response is not to deploy an army, but rather, to commission a sheep herder to go to Pharaoh with a message – “Let my people go.”  

Moses is not a warrior.  He is not up for a fight.  He doesn’t even want to job. Rather than objecting outright, Moses responds to the voice from the burning bush with a series of objections, questions, and expected obstacles.  

But despite his reservations, Moses finds himself accepting the commission.  As Andrew Thayer sums it up, “what Moses is invited to do at the burning bush is what love does when it meets an empire built on coercive power, forced labor, and extraction. It doesn’t back down, nor does it pick up the sword. It confronts, speaks up, tells the truth. Self-sacrificial Love, the kind displayed by Moses, isn’t a feeling or an emotion, nor is it passivity or niceness. Moses standing in front of Pharaoh is love functioning as confrontation and liberation at the same time.”

In many ways Moses embraces the same non-coercive strength and conviction that Jesus displays in walking towards Jerusalem.

We are, today, facing the power of empire, no question about it.  We are living in a world in which both persons and nature have again been viewed as expendable, available to be used for the benefit of those who hold power.
In the Moses and Peter stories, both are thinking and reacting based on experiences of the past – knowing the way things have always worked, fearful of failure, rejection, and death, both are frightened of risk.

For them, and certainly for us, God is pointing toward a new future that is different from anything they can imagine, and that is scary.

These stories of invitation to leadership offer us the same truths:

1. God is  ALWAYS pointing us and urging us toward a new future that is different from anything we imagine.
2. God always works through us and with us, in community with others who recognize, with us, the world’s needs.  When we are called to leadership, we are not alone, and we are never expected to do it ourselves.
3. God does not choose those who are already identified as heroic and competent.  I don’t know who first said it, but “God doesn’t call the equipped; God equips the called.”
4. We don’t have to have all of the answers: we just need to show up, to trust God, to put our hearts into it and do our best.

Moses and Peter both accomplished more than they could have dreamed in the initial moments we see in today’s texts.  They both experienced loss, heartache, conflict along the way, but with God’s help, both served in God’s work of healing the world.

May we meet our own challenges with faith. May we be willing to step forward, to conquer our fears and open our vision.  May we remember that we are never alone.

​Dear God, open our hearts and our ears that we might  hear your voice and walk in your ways. Amen 

Please be seated. 

When I was preparing this sermon the thing that grabbed  me the most (and still does) is the very first sentence. 

“Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on  ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds.”  Jesus made the disciples. Made. As you know I was a  fire investigator in my prior life and the hardest thing I had  to do was prove intent. Jesus doesn’t make the  investigator of this text work very hard because it is right  there. Made. Jesus intended that the disciples get in the  boat and head out across the lake. There are times when  I am reading scripture that I have to wonder if Jesus was  not a big practical joker. I mean, I have a vision of Jesus  sending his troops out across the lake and saying to the  fella next to him, “Hold my cup of wine and watch this.”  There is no doubt in my mind that Jesus knows a storm is coming up and that he is going to walk out on the water  well before the disciples set foot in the boat. If you are a  boater you know you can tell when a storm is coming  quite some time before it gets to you because you need  to know what will likely happen when you are away from  shore. So I have a vision of Jesus chuckling to himself as  he heads off to the mountain to pray. And like most  practical jokes this one goes wrong because Peter wants  so much to be like the teacher. 

I think the question comes to mind, what was Jesus  setting out to accomplish walking across the water in the  storm. I don’t think it was to prove one more time that he was the Son of Man. I think at this point his disciples  were pretty convinced that they were in the presence of  God’s favored one. He has already performed several  miracles including curing a man’s withered hand and  feeding the 5,000. Some theologians think this was his  opportunity to prove mastery over nature. I think it might  be something different. Again I think he knew the storm  was coming and that he was going to walk across the  lake but I don’t know that he knew Peter would ask to  walk with him. We humans are an unpredictable lot ever  since we were granted free will at our creation. Of course  walking on water helps us, in our day and age, to accept  the divinity of Jesus and it does serve that purpose. For me, it serves another purpose and for that I want to focus  on Peter. 

I think a word or two about sailing is needed here. I have  a small, fourteen foot, sloop rigged sailboat that I sailed  for a number of years when my kids were pretty small. I  have also sailed on a lake at the beginning of a storm but  with enough sense to not sail in the storm. The wind  blows hard and unpredictably in a storm and the water,  even on a lake, forms into waves. It is important to keep  the boat going forward in these conditions so it enters  waves bow first.

 It is vital to keep the boat moving forward. Not doing so  means the boat drifts sideways into waves and capsizes.  All of that means rearranging the sails quickly and often,  and with twelve men in the boat everyone on the boat  needs to be alert for ropes and sails and equipment and  bodies flying around the craft. So you have to work  insanely hard to continue moving forward or take your  chances by dropping the sail. Neither is a happy choice I  can tell you from experience and that is why I latched  onto the words that “Jesus made” his disciples get in the  boat and crossover. 

So there they are, chaos in the boat and chaos in the  environment. Eyes wide in fear and adrenaline pumping  through their veins and a figure comes walking across the  water. If you are one of the people on that boat you have  got to believe your life is about to come to an end.  Whatever that figure is it can’t be good. And Jesus says  “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” Yeah, Right!! And  Peter’s response is to say “Lord, if it is you, command me  to come to you on the water.” I am not sure if this is a  statement made in shear panic or if he really realized what  he was saying. It’s a reaction to the situation and not one  well thought out. As our former Presiding Bishop Michael  Curry says when he talks about this gospel; Jesus says “Ya’ll Come”. And Peter does. Peter doesn’t get too far  into his stroll when the realities of his situation finally  dawn on him and he really panics and starts to sink. Now  some might focus on Jesus chiding Peter for his lack of  faith but I think Jesus is just trying to get Peter to rescue  himself. When that fails Jesus offers a hand and Peter  gets his act back together. I don’t think Jesus picked  Peter up and carried him to the boat but I do think he held  his hand until they entered the boat.  

Some of you may have heard this next story so please  bear with me. When I first had a full on face to face  awakening to the devastation of addiction during an event in Worcester I foolishly asked God how he could allow  these people to suffer like this and why wasn’t he sending  help to them. And I heard God say “I am sending you.”  You might think, that does it now we know he is crazy.  Well maybe I am but I stand by the fact that I heard that  call to action. My major in college was history and  political science. Nothing to do with social services or  interacting with those on the margins. I was just as afraid  of those people as some of you are. I put on my big boy  pants and walked into Rev. Heather’s office and asked her  to help me lay out a course to answer the call I heard. I  got some training from folks in Worcester and Waltham  who were working with folks on the margins and got ready to do my thing at Second Helpings, our meal here  at Sts. James and Andrew on Monday evenings. Like  Peter I had taken a step out of the questionable security  of the boat and was entering the chaos of the reality of  being with real people. The first attempt found me  standing in the kitchen afraid to even talk to anyone. The  second attempt found me getting as far as the serving  line. I was doubting that I had the skills or the mind set or  even the courage to take the next step. But you know the  Spirit shows up at our time of need and gives us the  inspiration to answer that call. On the third evening I sat  down at a table full of folks except for one seat and after asking permission to sit, my work with Emmaus  Companions was off and running. 

I don’t think any of us enters into any kind of ministry  without some kind of misgiving that threatens to stop us  in our tracks. I also think God calls all of us at some point  in our lives. It may not be something big like starting a  ministry, it might be as simple as joining vestry or the  choir or Emmaus Companions. The idea dawns on us  and it sort of sounds doable then doubt sets in. The  challenge then is to ask for the strength and I believe it  will be given to you. With all the nonsense there is in the  world, in our country, in our state, there are a lot of things we can be called to try. You get a choice. You can sit in  front of the television and wring your hands or holler at  the news or get depressed and do nothing or you can  stand up and make one small corner of your surroundings  just a little better than it was before you stood up. You do  have the power. You can be an instrument of change.  That is why Jesus came into the world, to offer people a  vision of change that they can effect. He even told you  this is how you do it. The next time you have what you  think is a crazy idea about how to bring love into the  world ask yourself is it a call from God and don’t be  afraid, it is God and God will be there if you start to sink. Amen

By Dan Carew, Lay Preacher

According to the lectionary calendar this has been a summer of Romans, or perhaps a Roman holiday without the comedy and romance but heavy on the drama. And no one in the preaching rotation has touched on any of the Romans passages… not sure what that means, but I am determined to (hopefully) bring some insight and encouragement.

So let us start with answering some questions that will help us to understand Romans and this morning’s specific selection. First, What is Romans? The section known as Romans in the New Testament is sometimes called “the book of Romans” which is fine for helping us separate it as its own entity, but in reality it is a letter or more specifically an epistle, which is a letter consisting of moral instruction. This letter was authored by the Apostle Paul between 54-58 AD and sent to the church in Rome.

Our next question to answer is: Who is Paul? Paul is the second most recognized figure in the New Testament after Jesus. Born in Tarsus(modern day Turkey), he was a Pharisee of the tribe of Benjamin, a Jewish-Roman citizen. He was a persecutor of early Christians before his conversion to a follower of Jesus. In the New Testament he is referred to as both Saul and Paul, this is a matter of his first language, Hebrew, versus his cultural language, Greek.

The final question, Why does Paul write a letter to the Roman church? While Paul’s full intention in writing is not fully known, we are able to make some well founded hypotheses. We know that Paul, at the time of writing his letter, had not visited the church in Rome despite his missionary travels around the Mediterranean. We also know that he was seeking support from the church. As indicated in chapter 15, he had hoped that it would be a passthrough point on his way to western parts of the empire, specifically Spain. Lastly, Paul is writing to the Roman church to share his understanding of the gospel and to help the Christians there navigate social dynamics in their community.

The Roman church at that time was composed of Jewish and gentile Christians, and affected by recent political events. Around 49 AD, during the reign of Claudius, as documented by Suetonius, there had been disturbances by the Jews and in response the emperor expelled them from Rome. This edict lasted until Claudius’ death in 54 AD. It seems like this may have been the crux of the drama in the Roman church. Prior to the expulsion the Jesus followers in Rome would have been a blend of Jewish and gentile christians, who shared common beliefs and practices, that were likely more influenced by Jewish customs and traditions, such as religious observances, practices (ie. circumcision and dietary restrictions), and the Mosaic law. However, during that expulsion time(4-5 years), the church in Rome would have been made up of gentiles and any new converts would also have been gentiles. The Jewish customs were absent.

After the death of Claudius, and during the reign of Nero, Jewish Christians returning to Rome would find the church they were part of had changed; the adherence to the Mosaic law and customs had waned. Imagine how the Jewish Christians felt. The community you were once part of had greatly changed. The communal practices you once shared are no longer

reciprocated. The laws you upheld to be in right standing with God are not observed. You are likely questioning your identity as part of God’s chosen after being “exiled” from Rome, and trying to make sense of God’s blessing being shared with so many gentiles.

Now imagine you are a gentile Christian in Rome after the death of Claudius as Jewish Christians begin returning to the church they were formerly part of. You are perplexed and questioning their customs. You are annoyed by their insistence of specific religious customs, especially their dietary restrictions. And if you are a male, you’re sure as hades not going to participate in circumcision! You begin to justify your standing with God. I don’t follow any of the Jewish customs and I have found favor with God. Maybe they have fallen out of favor with God, they are troublemakers and were kicked out of the city. I think our way of being Christian is superior.

That was the church Paul was writing to. Phew!
Now let’s look at our reading from today’s lectionary. This selection from Romans 9 is a hinge point, in that Paul has just finished a lengthy explanation of the human condition and righteousness by faith(ch.1-8). He then begins laying out a clarification of the Jewish people’s stake in the story of Jesus (ch. 9-11).

Verse 1 is interesting in that it could belong to today’s reading or it could go with the previous chapter which ends with Paul proclaiming, “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” So, Paul is either trying to solidify what he just said in chapter 8, “It’s true! Nothing can separate you from God’s love,” or he is implying that what he is about to say is true. Whichever way it is, he is invoking the name of Christ to emphasize his certainty.

Paul then shares with the church that he is greatly pained and desires to rectify that which pains him, even at the price of being separated from Christ. This is intriguing because he just told his listeners that nothing could separate them from God, yet Paul would do it for the sake of his “own people”, his “kindred”, the “Israelites”. This type of sacrifice shouldn’t surprise us - this idea of relinquishing one’s life for another but rather why is he willing to be cut off? So that they might know Christ, the Messiah. This seems clear from his statements in verses 4 and 5, about his people,
“to them belong the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises; to them belong the patriarchs, and from them, according to the flesh, comes the Messiah, who is over all”.

A new thing has come about from the Jewish faith. It is grounded in the Abrahamic covenant and Mosaic law, a Messiah has come - Jesus. We need to remember that Jesus did not come like a violent, vengeful redeemer as many would have likely assumed by the culture of the day.

He came in an antithetical way to war, killing, and committing violence. He demonstrated non-violence. Surely this was NOT the prophesied Messiah. And so there would have been
some in that time that would likely have seen Jesus as little more than a joke, someone easy to dismiss. Clearly Paul did until his Damascus road encounter. Now Paul is trying to articulate this to the Jews in Rome, and these verses in chapter 9 are the beginning. He goes on through chapter 11 explaining how Jesus is an extension of the people of Israel’s story.

What does this mean for us, here and now?

I think there are two pieces of encouragement we can pull from this.

First, church communities change. While grounded on common beliefs, the makeup of congregations change based on the demographics of the congregants, the style of leadership of the church and the progressions of the society in which they exist. This was very true for the Roman church and in my experiences in different Christian denominations, I would say it is still true. In the past 7 years I can’t recall any major change here at Saints James and Andrew but beyond that time period many of you are able to recall numerous changes. Whether that be the merging of parishes, seeing a beloved rector move on to serve in other capacities, or the inglorious scandals of the past. We have experienced change within a church community, and now we are 7 days into a fairly significant transition period - we are rector-less. Over the coming months we will feel uncomfortable at times and that is to be expected. In order to make this a fruitful time of discomfort, we will need to work together, disagree with civility, and prayerfully pursue what is best for our parish with God’s help.

The second piece of encouragement is this: we are connected to an ancient tradition. Here and now, 2000 years later after Jesus, we are part of a long standing religious tradition that has changed and morphed over millennia as humans have sought to make sense of their world and draw close to God. In a commentary on this passage from Romans, Matt Skinner, Luther Seminary Professor said, “We do not appropriate Israel’s rich heritage of adoption, covenants, and promises. We participate in it, in a derivative but nevertheless real way, through Christ.” Christ has expanded the revelation of God. Christ has widened our access and understanding of God. We all are in Christ.

“... and from them, according to the flesh, comes the Messiah, who is over all, God blessed forever. Amen.”

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