Tag: Christian Nationalism

Is There a Balm in Gilead? A Cry for Peace in an Age of Fascism

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year CLeave a comment

Jeremiah 8:18-9:1

My joy is gone. Grief is upon me. My heart is sick. Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? O that my head were a spring of water, and my eyes a fountain of tears, so that I might weep day and night for the slain of my poor people.

How many of you can feel the enormous grief of the prophet? It’s heavy. It’s exhausting. And I confess that there was a time this week I felt like just giving up.

Jeremiah’s gut-wrenching lament comes from the suffering of a broken city—amid a people demoralized by a corrupt government, betrayed by those in power, and abandoned by the religious establishment.

The prophet’s voice trembles with profound sadness. He sees a nation that has lost its way: a people who claim to believe in God but who fail to practice kindness, justice, and mercy; leaders who have consolidated power by telling lies, scapegoating the weak, silencing dissent, and threatening violence.

Sound familiar?

In Jeremiah’s time, the Babylonian war machine bore down on Judah.

Instead of defending the vulnerable, the powerful protected their own wealth and position, leaving ordinary people exposed to invasion and suffering. The poor were crushed, widows abandoned, orphans ignored, and migrants exploited. The powerful told the people what they wanted to hear, proclaiming “peace,” when there was no peace, because there was no justice.

And Jeremiah wept.

Jeremiah wept because people fell for the lies. He wept because the cries of the vulnerable went unheard. He wept because leaders in the nation had hardened their hearts. And he wept because those leaders were blessed by religious leaders.

Sound familiar?

It was not only a political crisis. It was a moral crisis, a spiritual crisis.

And on this International Day of Peace in 2025, we find ourselves in a strikingly similar crisis, as fascism tightens its grip on our nation.

Power has been consolidated by dividing the nation, scapegoating immigrants, and silencing dissent. The playbook of the powerful demonizes the most vulnerable among us. It criminalizes protest, censors history, dismantles education, denies science, and spreads lies, all to protect their power.

We live in a time when comedic satire aimed at the rich and powerful is silenced, while hate aimed at the poor and powerless is protected. A comedian was pulled off the airwaves after mocking the President. Yet, a Fox news host openly called for the killing of the homeless and the mentally ill—those whom Jesus would say that “if you do it to them, you do it to me”—and not only did he keep his job, he was defended by many who claim to be Christian.

This is much deeper than politics. It’s about the soul of the nation. When truth is silenced, when the poor are demonized, and when those in the church bless it, it is more than democracy at stake. It is our very humanity and witness to God.

This is the sin-sick world Jeremiah saw.

Judah was collapsing under its own corruption. The prophets who should have spoken truth to power bowed down to power. Babylon loomed large, an empire built on conquest, intimidation, and fear. And Judah’s leaders tried to imitate the empire, believing violence would secure peace. Peace through strength, as they like to say. Prophets like Jeremiah were threatened, beaten, and even imprisoned for speaking truth (Jer. 20:1–2; 26:7–11).

But Jeremiah rose up and spoke out anyway. Listen to his words from the previous chapter:

Don’t for a minute believe the lies being spoken here: ‘This is God’s Temple, God’s Temple, God’s Temple!’ [It’s] total nonsense! Clean up your act, the way you live and treat your neighbors…[quit oppressing the alien NRSVUE], exploiting street people and orphans and widows. Quit taking advantage of innocent people, [and stop going after other gods to your own hurt …NRSVUE] Get smart! Your leaders are handing you a pack of lies, and you’re swallowing them! Use your heads! (Jeremiah 7, The Message).

Jeremiah wept because the people had been conned, falling for the lies of the powerful, even against their own interests, choosing violence over love, a false peace over justice. And Jeremiah wept because people were being hurt in the name of God.

His nation was sick with sin and Jeremiah lamented: “Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician here?”

It’s difficult not to see the parallels to 2025.

Today, politicians quote scripture while cutting food program and taking away healthcare. Governors sign laws to censor history, erasing the stories of Black, Brown, and queer lives. Politicians want to control the media and criminalize protest, making dissent itself illegal. They attack education, deny the reality of climate change, and sneer at science.

And they bless it all in the name of God. They silence the prophets in the name of peace. They embrace fascism in the name of patriotism.

The nation is sin-sick when comedians who poke fun at power are silenced, while broadcasters who fantasize about killing the poor are protected. The nation is sin-sick when protest is criminalized and violence is excused, when truth is silenced and lies are amplified, when bigots are honored and those who speak out against bigotry are villainized.

Thus, Jeremiah’s cry becomes our own: “Is there no balm in Gilead?”

So today, we join Jeremiah’s weeping.

We weep for all who are still swallowing lies at their own peril.

We weep for immigrants locked away without due process, terrorized and scapegoated for problems they did not cause.

We weep for our unhoused neighbors, those whom many wish would just disappear.

And we weep for the silenced voices—journalists, teachers, artists, prophets—punished for telling the truth.

However, here’s the good news. We weep with the prophet today, but we weep with hope. If not, I don’t think we would be in this sanctuary this morning. We weep before God as those who know the tears of the faithful are sacred, that the laments of those who believe in love are holy, that weeping itself is an act of resistance in a culture that tells us that everything is fine.

Jeremiah asked: “Is there no balm in Gilead?”

Two thousand years later, the African-American church of the 19th century answered the prophet. Although the powerful what us to forget it, while African Americans were considered chattel property with no rights, subjected to forced labor from sunrise to sunset, while they were bought, sold, and separated from their families, their lives defined by brutal coercion, including whippings and the threat of death, while they were denied legal rights and autonomy, they were somehow still able to sing out loud, words that we will sing in a few moments: “There is a balm in Gilead!”

Not the balm that came from bowing down to their masters. Neither was it the balm of hating them or responding to their violence with more violence. It was the balm of God’s justice, the balm of Christ’s love, and the balm of Spirit’s fire. The balm with the power to make the wounded whole, to heal the sin-sick soul. The balm that is found wherever people choose love over hate, truth over lies, and justice over fear.

The balm of Gilead is in the streets where the people march. It’s in the pulpits where prophets preach and in the pews where worshippers pray. It’s in the classrooms where teachers defy censorship, and it’s in the laments of all who believe in love.

The balm of Gilead is found in our tears, our laughter, our songs, and our courage.

Jeremiah cried, “O that my head were a spring of water, and my eyes a fountain of tears.”

In 2025 America, we know our tears can become rivers of justice. Our lament fuels our resistance, and our weeping gives birth to action.

When protest is criminalized, our tears compel us to march anyway.

When immigrants are demonized, our tears move us to stand with them in solidarity and proclaim that no human being is illegal.

When history is censored, our honest tears become words telling the truth in our classrooms, in our pulpits, and in our homes, because we know it is only the truth that sets us free.

When science is denied, our weeping stirs us to honor the creation, because we believe in our hearts God has entrusted this world to our care.

When God’s name is used to do harm to our neighbors, our grief send us out of the sanctuary into the streets to protect them in the name of God.

When satire is silenced, even in mourning, we will laugh louder, for we believe humor is holy and joy is a weapon.

When hate is excused, we will raise our trembling voices for love, because we know love will ultimately win.

On this International Day of Peace, we cry with Jeremiah, we weep with Jesus, and we rise with the Spirit. We stand to reject the fake peace of empire and the immoral peace of silence, while we embrace the true and costly peace of justice, the risky peace of love, and the revolutionary peace of the gospel.

Because while fascism may grip the nation, it cannot crush the Spirit. Those in power may silence prophets, but they cannot silence God. Hate may roar for a season, but love is eternal.

“Is there no balm in Gilead?”

Yes, there is a balm! And we are called to be it!

Today, we weep. But the good news is that our tears are not the end of the story. Because there does come a time when our tears turn into hope. There comes a time when lament gives birth to testimony, when weeping rises up into a witness that shakes the foundations of empire.

And now is that time!

We see that people in our nation are already paying the price for being a moral witness. Workers are being fired from their jobs, teachers dismissed from classrooms, journalists silenced—all because they dared to post on social media what Jeremiah would have shouted from the streets—”Those with power are lying. Fascism is here. And anyone who does harm to the poor, to the immigrant, to the most vulnerable among us, is no friend of God!”

And when prophets are silenced like this, when truth is censored, when jobs are lost for speaking conscience, the church must rise with even greater courage to say: “Yes, these days are heavy, but we will not bow down. We are exhausted, but we will not give up! We will not allow fascism to have the last word! We will not allow love to be silenced while hate is amplified! And we will not allow truth to be buried beneath lies! Even if there is a price to pay!”

So, let’s rise together as balm in a broken land.
Let’s rise as physicians for a sin-sick nation.
Let’s rise as a river of justice, a mighty movement of revolutionary love, because we are the balm. We are the healers.

This week, we have wept for the nation. Collectively, in the words of the 119th Psalm, our tears have cried a river. But let’s remember that rivers have power. Rivers carve valleys. Rivers reshape the land. And they move history itself.

Now is the time to let our tears carve a new way forward.

Amen.

Pastoral Prayer

God of weeping prophets and wounded people, we come before You with broken hearts and open hands.

We weep for children taken too soon by gun violence,

for immigrants cast out and scapegoated,

for unhoused neighbors treated as disposable,

for truth-tellers silenced while lies are protected.

You, O Lord, hear the cry of the poor.

You see the fear that grips our nation, the cruelty that masquerades as strength, the empire that blesses weapons more than it blesses life.

Yet, you also see the power of love rising,

voices refusing to be silenced,

hands building communities of care,

feet marching for peace with justice.

Heal us, O God. Make us bold enough to speak truth in love,

to resist every system that thrives on fear and division,

and to live as balm in this wounded land.

We pray not only for peace but for the courage to embody it—

in our homes, in our streets, in this church, in our nation.

Through Christ, who wept with us and yet rose with power, we pray.

Amen.

Invitation to Communion

This table is not the empire’s table.
It is not gated, policed, or censored.
It does not silence the hungry or privilege the powerful.
This is Christ’s table—where the broken find healing,
where the weary find rest,
where the silenced find a voice,
where the despised find welcome.

On this International Day of Peace,
we come to taste a peace rooted in justice,
a love that breaks chains,
a hope that refuses to die.

Come, not because you are worthy,
but because Christ makes you whole.
Come, because there is a balm in Gilead,
and it is poured out here in bread and cup.

Invitation to Give

Our offerings are not hush money to quiet our conscience.
They are seeds of resistance, investments in justice,
fuel for the Spirit’s movement in this place and beyond.

When the world blesses weapons,
we bless children.
When the empire silences prophets,
we empower truth-tellers.
When systems sow fear,
we plant love.

Let us give, not reluctantly but boldly,
trusting that God will multiply these gifts
into balm for a wounded world.

Commissioning and Benediction

Go now as people of lament and of action.
Let your tears water the seeds of justice.
Let your weeping fuel your courage.
Let your prayers become protest,
your songs become strength,
your love become revolution.

The world asks, “Is there no balm in Gilead?”
We leave this place answering:
Yes, there is a balm—and we will be it.

Go in peace, go in power, go in love.

And let the church say: Amen.

The Most Hopeful Word in Scripture

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year CLeave a comment

Luke 15:1-10

This morning, I’ve got a simple sermon. Now, don’t get too excited. I didn’t say short! I said simple. It’s about one word. Just one word. And I believe it may be the most hopeful word in scripture.

Jesus is confronted by grumbling Scribes and Pharisees: “Jesus, why do you insist on hanging out with people everyone knows are sinners? Rumors are flying all over town about you eating, drinking, and having parties with those people!”

And Jesus responds as he usually does by telling a story. Here, he tells three stories: one about a lost sheep, another about a lost coin, and another about a lost boy.

It is in these wonderful stories that we find what I believe is the most hopeful word in the entire Bible.

What about the word “found?” Now there’s a hopeful word. In each of these stories, there is something or someone who is found. The shepherd finds the lost sheep. “And when he found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices!” The woman finds the lost coin. “Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.” And the father finds his lost son. “Let us celebrate for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost but now he is found!”

Found: It’s a wonderful word. For being found is the polar opposite of being lost. Being found means being recognized and accepted, welcomed, and affirmed where we are and for who we are. Being found means coming home. Coming home to a place where you are loved unconditionally and appreciated and understood. Being found means belonging. Being found means salvation.

Found: What a hopeful word! For how many of us yearn to be known fully, understood completely, accepted entirely, and loved unconditionally? How many of us yearn for a place that we can call home? Where we can be our authentic selves and be welcomed and affirmed. Found: it’s a wonderful, hopeful word. It is who we are called to be as a church, and it is what makes this Open and Affirming congregation in Lynchburg so special.

“Found” is good. “Found” is hopeful. But it’s not quite the word I’m after. What about “rejoice?” Now, that’s a hopeful word…

In each of these stories, there is an awful lot of rejoicing. You gotta love the way Jesus responds to criticism about all the parties he was attending by telling three stories about having a party?

When the shepherd finds his lost sheep, he lays it on his shoulders and “rejoices.” He comes home, calls together his friends and neighbors and invites them to a party, saying, “Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.”

After the woman found her lost coin, she called together her friends and her neighbors, saying, “Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.”

And who can forget the party in the final story of the lost boy. When the boy is found, the father says to his servants: “Quickly, bring out a robe, the very best one, and put it on my boy. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let’s eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!” And they began to rejoice together with food, music, dancing, and belonging.

Rejoice: it’s an incredibly hopeful word, but it is not the word I am thinking of. There is another word, a smaller word, a stronger word, a word that will preach hope in every age!

Jesus says that the shepherd searches until he finds the lost sheep. The woman searches until she finds the lost coin, and the father waits until the lost boy is found.

It’s important to remember that each time Jesus tells a parable, he is implying that God is like that. God is like a shepherd who searches, not for an hour, not for 24, 36, or 48 hours, not for a week or a month or even a year, but searches until he finds his sheep. God is like a woman who turns on all the lights in the house, sweeps every square inch and feverishly searches until she finds it. And God is like a parent who patiently and graciously waits untiltheir child comes home.

The most hopeful word in the Bible may be the simple word until.

I have always prided myself on being open-minded. I have preached sermons about the importance of being open-minded. I’ll never forget that after one such sermon, a worshipper came up to me and asked, “Pastor, don’t you think that sometimes it is good to be close-minded? Don’t you think that there are some things that even God is hard-headed about?”

Although the worshipper was notorious for being closed-minded, he did have a pretty good point. For the good news is that the God Jesus describes is a close-minded, hard-headed, stubborn God. God is obstinate and unrelenting in God’s desire to draw all people unto God’s self. It was a very stubborn, immovable, and inflexible love which propelled to the cross. Perhaps the most close-minded statement that was ever made was made from the cross: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

So, you say: “I know I am not the person I need to be. How much longer will God keep molding me, shaping me, enveloping me with grace? The good news is, until.

You say, “I keep failing, I keep falling. How long will God continue to pick me up and put me back on my feet?” The good news is, until.

You say, “I don’t think I am ever going to get over the loss of my loved one. How much longer can I keep calling on God to help me?” The good news is until.

How long will God keep fighting for me in this battle? How long will God keep protecting me in this storm? The good news is, until.

How much longer is God going to believe in me and stand by me and make a place for me at God’s banquet where there is going to be endless rejoicing?

The answer is in the simple, yet most hopeful word in the entire Bible: until.

And we’re not the first to discover this hope. In a dream, Jacob wrestled with God all night long by the river, refusing to let go. His stubborn cry was: “I will not let you go until you bless me.” And God stayed with him, held onto him, and gave him a new name and a new future.

Hannah prayed in the temple year after year, pouring out her soul, long after others had given up on her. She prayed until her tears turned into songs of joy, and Samuel was born.

Moses went back again and again to Pharaoh, each time with the same demand: “Let my people go.” Pharaoh hardened his heart, but Moses kept coming back until God’s people were set free.

And Jesus told us of a widow who kept knocking on the door of an unjust judge, demanding justice. She would not be silenced, and nevertheless, she persisted. She kept knocking until the judge gave in.

Even in Gethsemane, Jesus prayed not once, but over and over, staying with God until his spirit was strengthened to bear the cross.

The whole story of scripture testifies to this hope: God will not quit. God will not give up. God will not turn away. No matter our mistakes, no matter our trouble, no matter our obstacles, God will love us, chase us, hold us, and transform us—until.

And church, if God is stubborn like that, if God loves us until, then the people of God must be stubborn too. That means we cannot quit on our neighbors. We cannot give up on this nation. We cannot give in to violence, even when those who call us their enemies declare war. We can never answer hate with more hate, but with a stubborn love that never grows weary in this nonviolent struggle for justice and peace.

As the late Henri Nouwen once said: “Those who choose, even on a small scale, to love in the midst of hatred and fear are the people who offer true hope to the world.”

We must stand, we must work, we must love (Somebody say it) “UNTIL!”

Until our streets and our schools are free from gun violence, and political violence no longer poisons our common life.

Until our presidents stop dividing the nation, and our leaders speak words that heal instead of harm.

Until every child in America can walk into a fully funded school,
with books that tell the truth about our past, not with shelves stripped bare by censorship.

Until Black and Brown lives are safe, voter suppression is dismantled, and police violence is no more.

Until immigrants are welcomed as neighbors, not treated as criminals.

Until every worker earns a living wage, and nobody has to choose between medicine and rent.

(Somebody say it) “UNTIL!”

Until women’s bodies are honored, and reproductive freedom is protected.

Until our queer and trans siblings are celebrated as God’s beloved.

Until every person is granted equal protection and due process under the law.

Until Christian nationalism is unmasked as idolatry.

Until this planet is a more sustainably just and harmoniously peaceful home for every creature.

Until justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream!

That’s the stubborn love of God! And now, the same stubborn love that propelled Jesus to the cross now propels us into the streets!

And when we get tired, when we feel like giving up, asking ourselves, “How long will God sustain us in this struggle?” The gospel answers: Until.

Thus, when the powers and principalities ask us:

So, how long are you going to keep showing up?”

“How long are you going to keep organizing?”

“How long are you going to keep protesting?”

“How long are you going to keep flying that flag?”*

“How long will you fight for healthcare, housing, and hope?”

“How long will you keep praying and prophesying and bearing witness against greed, violence, division and hate?”

We will rise up with one voice and declare:

“We will not stop.

We will not bow down.

We will not turn back.

And we will not be silent. Not for a season.

Not until the news cycle moves on.

Not even until the next election.

We will love.

We will struggle.

We will stand.

And we will march

until every person is free,

until every child is safe,

until every body is honored,

until justice is done,

and the kingdom comes on earth as it is in heaven!”

Amen.

 

*Referring to the pride flag that flies outside on our church sign.

If We Loved Like Jesus

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Easter, Sermons Year CLeave a comment

John 13:31-35

In the words of Stevie Wonder, I have “some serious news to pass on to everybody (which is really news to no one): “Love is in need of love today.”

Although some of Jesus’ last words, which are usually understood as one’s most important words, came in a commandment to love one another as he loved, many Christians have rejected those words, and today, love seems to have fallen out of favor.

One excuse I hear is: “Well, love might have worked back in Jesus’ time, but the world’s a much different place today. Love, especially loving like Jesus loved, well, that just doesn’t cut it anymore.”

Preaching love these days gets one called “a left-wing lunatic,” while stirring up hate gets one elected President. Being empathetic toward another gets one called “a sinner,” while being a bully gets one called “faithful,” or “councilman.” Deporting and separating families gets cheers, while asking for some common decency and humanity, gets one called “soft.”

If we truly love like Jesus loved—if we feed the hungry, if we care for the sick, if we give to the poor, if we stand up for the marginalized, if we speak out on behalf of the oppressed, if we welcome the stranger, and accept those who are cast away, we’re considered: “enemies of the state.”

These days, the peace and love crowd who lead with mercy, are out of date. And the mean and tough crowd, those who can make the hard decisions are trending. They can take away SNAP benefits without any apprehension, have people arrested without any due process and disappeared without any second thought. They say the country can afford to show our strength with a military parade, but not to show our compassion with healthcare for the elderly.

But love? Love is weak, they say. And these days, in these times, they say love is for losers. It may have worked back in the first century, when Jesus commanded it, but not here in the twenty-first, not anymore.

But the truth is, first century Palestine was not much different from today. Beneath the rule of the Roman Empire, ordinary people bore the weight of crushing taxes, land seizures, violent crackdowns, and the threat of crucifixion designed to silence dissent and maintain control. The elites—

local, imperial and religious— colluded to rob people of their wealth and dignity, leaving entire communities displaced and impoverished. It was a time when the underprivileged dare not imagine a world where justice was right for the oppressed and not a privilege of the powerful.

And it was into the thickness of that unrelenting, darkness, Jesus commanded his followers: “Love one another.”

Because Jesus knew that love is the light the darkness cannot overcome, and love is only power in the world strong enough to tear down empires and build God’s kin-dom.

So, when Jesus said, “Love one another as I have loved you,” he wasn’t being soft, and he sure as heaven wasn’t being weak.

He was talking about using the most powerful force in the world to change the world! He was talking about a love that was so threatening to the powers-that-be it would get you arrested and could easily get you nailed to a cross.

Jesus was talking about a love that confronts the empire, a love that calls out injustice, a love that always, insistently, and unapologetically, favors the oppressed and welcomes the people society tries to cast out. It’s a love that moves mountains, flips tables, and shakes up the status quo. It’s a love that demands justice for the poor, healthcare for the sick, and freedom for the oppressed.

Jesus said, “Love one another, as I have loved you,” because Jesus knew that love, the love he taught, the love he modeled and embodied, is the only power in the universe that can turn this world around.

Earlier this spring, Father John Dear reminded us that although the term “nonviolence” may sound passive and weak, there’s really nothing passive or weak about it. Nonviolence is “active love. It’s active resistance to evil.”

It’s important to remember that Jesus was anything but passive. He didn’t just sit back in his thoughts and prayers and wait for the world to change. He marched right into the temple and flipped over the tables of those who were hurting the poor saying: “This is not the kingdom of God! This is not how God’s people do things!”

He challenged the hypocrisy of the religious culture, those who claimed to love God but failed miserably in the things God requires, kindness, justice, and mercy, especially to those who were the most thirsty and hungry for it.

That’s how Jesus loved. And that’s how the world today needs us to love.

Dorothy Day, who devoted her entire life to loving like Jesus, once said: “Love, and ever more love, is the only solution to every problem that comes up in the world.” Love keeps coming. It keeps showing up. It keeps resisting and pushing back the darkness.

Dr. King described love’s power this way: “Power at its best is love implementing the demands of justice, and justice at its best is power correcting everything that stands against love.” Love stands up to racism, to sexism, to greed, to exploitation, to marginalization, and says: “Not on my watch!”

Gandhi once said: “Nonviolence is not a weapon of the weak. It is the weapon of the strong.” The strength of love is not how hard we hit or how loud we shout. It’s in how firmly we stand for love when hatred thunders and violence strikes. That’s true strength. And the good news is that the church that commits to loving like Jesus has that strength in abundance!

The problem is that an alternative Jesus devoid of love is now being used to fuel injustice. When I heard in seminary that when fascism comes to America, it’ll be wrapped in the flag and carrying a cross, I really didn’t think I’d ever see it.

Ten commandments hang on the walls, but there’s no compassion in the halls. They call it freedom, but it only works for some. Prayers and crosses are everywhere, but mercy? It’s nowhere to be found. They may say it is about God, but it’s all about control.

As Rev. Dr. William Barber likes to say, you can’t say God Bless America and think you’re being holy when you’re terrorizing immigrants, taking away food from the poor, and denying healthcare. That’s not holiness, says Barber, — “that’s pure hypocrisy dressed up in Sunday clothes!” It is sin. And if we stay silent while God’s name gets stamped on policies that crush the poor, deport the stranger, and hoard wealth for the few, then we are complicit in that sin. Jesus didn’t die for a faith that props up empires — he died for a love that tears them down.

And Barber reminds us that none of what we are seeing today is new. In the 1930s, fascists in Europe had a way of wrapping cruelty in religious national pride. They spread lies about minorities and built concentration camps and called it security. They locked up dissenters and called it patriotism. They cut off aid to the vulnerable and called it government efficiency. They blamed the Jews for the crucifixion of Jesus and called it eradiating anti-Christian bias.

And today’s mass deportations, voter suppression, and attacks on the press, free speech and universities — they are all echoes of those same dark chapters.

The good news is that love didn’t fail back then — because love does as love always does— Love showed up.

Love resists. It never quits. Love stays. It never retreats. Love fights. And love always wins.

Harriet Tubman went back, again and again. Because love doesn’t leave people behind. Chains broke. A system cracked. The lie of slavery collapsed. And love won.

In Selma, they beat ‘em with batons on that bridge. But they marched anyway. Love crossed into history. The Voting Rights Act was signed. And love won.

At Stonewall, they said love was illegal. They raided bars and broke lives. But the people rose. Years later, the Supreme Court saw the truth that love is love is love, and love got a seat at the altar. Love won.

In 2020 when everything shut down, love opened up. Mutual aid was demonstrated. Grocery runs happened. Meals on porches were shared. Text chains were created. Check-ins occurred. Love filled the gaps.

Not soft love. Not timid love. Resilient, rooted, revolutionary love—this is the love Jesus commanded when he said: “as I have loved you, love one another.”

It’s a love that doesn’t flinch. A love that never folds. A love that bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. A love that doesn’t give up. Not then. And not now.

If only the church had followed the simple commandment to love Jesus as he loved, it would’ve never been seduced by any politician shouting, “Make America Great Again!” Because the only greatness Jesus is interested in is the greatness of love—Love that welcomes the stranger, feeds the hungry, and protects the vulnerable—A love that would never chant “Send them back.”  But always says: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

So, no — love is not weak, and it is not soft— love is power. Love is resisting. Love is marching. Love is standing up and speaking out.

Love is nonviolence in action, and as Father Dear says, love is a “force more powerful than all the weapons of war.”

The good news is—we can see love is rising today!

We can see love standing unshakably during a silent peace vigil on Monument Square in the pouring rain. It can be seen getting pastors arrested for praying in public in the Rotunda to protect Medicaid. And when the Boss sits down at concert and speaks like the prophet Isaiah.

And we can see love persisting as a new Pope chooses to be named Leo, after the Pope who laid the foundations in 1891 for Catholic social teaching advocating for: the rights of workers, especially the poor; the divine dignity of all persons, the government’s role in social justice; and role of the church in protecting the most vulnerable.

A small act of kindness extended to a stranger, a church sheltering an asylum-seeker, federal judges pushing back to defend the Constitution—This is not weakness. This is the power that can change the world!

If we loved like Jesus, our immigration policies would be built on hospitality, not hostility.

If we loved like Jesus, we would welcome the stranger, not criminalize them.

If we loved like Jesus, unchristian Nationalism would bow to the kingdom of God, and white supremacy wrapped up in Christian language would never be tolerated.

And the church wouldn’t be known for judgment, but for joy. We’d be too busy setting extra places at the table to worry about who belongs and who doesn’t.

If we loved like Jesus, our love would be bigger than our borders. Our love would be stronger than our fears. And our love would be louder than all voices put together conning us to divide, exclude, and hoard.

So, let’s love like Jesus! Let’s make the kingdom of God visible, one act of radical love at a time!

As Rev. Barber says — “it’s not about left or right, it’s about right and wrong.” And love is always right!

So, let’s be known for love. Let love do the talking. Let love do the walking. Let love be the proof. Let love be the revolution! Amen.

Light It Up: Changing the way we see the world to change the world

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Lent, Sermons Year CLeave a comment


Inspired by Practicing Peace, Living Nonviolence: A Weekend with Rev. John Dear, March 22-25, 2025, Lynchburg, VA

Today’s lectionary gospel lesson is from Luke 13 where we read beginning with verse one:

At that very time there were some present who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices.

He asked them, ‘Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.

Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them—do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem?

No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did.’

Here, Jesus is challenging some very bad theology. It’s a bad theology that supposes that people who suffer from the violent actions or inactions of authoritarians like Pontius Pilate somehow deserve what they get. The lives lost, harmed, displaced, or deported, are never the fault of the builders of towers or of the ones who make the executive orders.

It’s a bad theology that was created to always blame the victim, and it’s been called “one of the most sinister features of the fascist character.”[i]

The poor suffer, why? Because they are too lazy to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps, of course. They didn’t study hard enough in school. They’re not grinding hard enough at work. They’re not applying for enough jobs.

It’s a bad theology that views poverty as punishment for people who just don’t try hard enough, while exonerating the lawmakers, policy makers, and the oligarchs who’ve purchased those politicians to enrich themselves. It’s a bad theology that views people living in poverty as “parasites,” cursed by God for some good reason, and views the rich and the powerful, the builders of towers and the wielders of weapons, as people who are blessed by God.

Jesus emphatically speaks against this greedy and violent way of seeing the world: “No, I tell you!” And then, with a sense of urgency, Jesus challenges us to do something about it, before this dark and violent worldview is the death of us.

“No, I tell you, but unless you repent you will all perish as they did!”

But there’s a problem when some of us hear this word “repent”, as the word itself has been the victim of bad theology—perhaps with the intention to prevent us from ever fulfilling Jesus’ urgent plea to do something about the culture of greed and violence.

Maybe some of you, like me, were taught like that the word “repent” means to turn away personal sins. Raised as a Baptist, that meant to stop drinking, dancing, smoking, cussing, and having sexy thoughts.

However, when Jesus used the word “repent” to speak of our urgent need to change, he was talking about changing the way we see the world, so we can act to change the world. I believe the apostle Paul understood this when he wrote that in Christ, there is a new creation (2 Cor 5:17). When we follow Jesus, the way we see the entire creation changes. Sadly, that verse is also the victim of bad theology as it is often translated “In Christ, there is a new creature” to keep the focus on personal, individual sin and away from societal, cultural, social, and political sin.

Jesus talked more about our failure to see than he ever talked about private sins. Listen to John recount how Jesus spoke of his purpose in this world: “I came into this world…so that those who do not see may see…” (John 9:39). And throughout the gospels, Jesus continually asks: “Do you have eyes and fail to see?” (Mark 8:18) “Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye?” (Matthew 7:3) “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see!” (Luke 10:23) “Prophets and kings desired to see what you see but did not see it!” (Luke 10:24)

Over and over Jesus talked about importance of seeing a world that many people have difficulty seeing.

This is why I believe Jesus called himself the light of the world. For to truly see anything, what do we need? We need light. Thus, he said: “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life” (John 8:12).

I believe Jesus called himself the light of the world, because it was his life’s mission to lead us to change the way we see the world so we can change the world, to see the truth of who God has created us to be, of how God has created us to live.

And what is the truth that God wants us to see?

I believe the answer can be found in Jesus’ first recorded sermon which Rev. Dear read a few moments ago.[ii]

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

Jesus wants us to see the truth that God blesses the “poor in spirit.” Not the religious, the devout, the pious, or even the spiritual. Not the pastors, the elders, the deacons, not even the church member who serves every week in a soup kitchen. No, God favors the ones who have come to be served in the soup kitchen. They are not the ones with something to give. They are the ones with nothing to give. Jesus says the ones who are blessed, the ones who are favored by God are those who, spiritually speaking, are completely destitute. Their very spirits have been broken. And notice that Jesus uses the present tense. Not will be blessed. Not might be favored. They are, right now, right here, blessed. And their future is the kingdom of heaven. Can you see it?

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”

Jesus wants us to see that God favors the mourners. Not only those who may be mourning the death of someone or are grieving over the injustices of the world, but maybe especially those who are mourning over their own lives, those who are wondering if their lives have any value. They remember how their fathers and mothers, their ancestors, were valued by this world. They consider how they are valued by this world. And they look into the eyes of their children and grandchildren, and they grieve. They cry out in the streets for their lives to matter, yet Jesus calls them blessed and promises comfort. Can you see it?

“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.”

The meek are favored, says Jesus. Not the powerful and violent. Not the ones with the charisma or the confidence, or the physical ability, or the privilege, or an inheritance of wealth, to do whatever is necessary to overcome all sorts of adversity and make it to the top. Jesus says, blessed are the ones who never seem to get ahead. It is the last, says Jesus, not the first, who survive and inherit the earth. Can you see it?

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness for they will be filled.”

Not the ones who are righteous, but the ones on whose behalf the prophet Amos preached: “Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream” (Amos 5:24). These are the ones who are unjustly judged, mistreated, shunned, scapegoated, and bullied by society, even by communities of faith. They suffer grave injustices simply because of who they are.

They have been beaten up so badly by the world that they hunger and they thirst for justice like a wanderer lost in a hot desert thirsts for water. Jesus says that they are blessed, and they are the ones who will not only be satisfied, but will be filled, their cups overflowing. Can you see it?

“Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.”

Not the perfect and the proud, the boastful and the arrogant. Not the ones who never admit any mistake. But God favors the ones who are fully aware of their imperfections, the ones who have made mistakes, terrible mistakes, and they know it. Thus, when they encounter others who are also suffering from unthinkable errors in judgment, they have mercy, compassion, empathy, and in their hearts, there is always room for forgiveness. They give mercy, because they need mercy for themselves. And because they are favored by God, they will receive it. Can you see it?

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

Not the pure, but the “pure in heart.” Not the ones whose outer appearance and abilities suggest to some that they have the best genes. No, God favors the ones who are viewed by some as flawed. We are reminded of the words of 1 Samuel “for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7). God will see the pure beauty of who they truly are, and they will see God. Can you see it?

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

Not the ones who have necessarily found peace for themselves. But  blessed are the tormented, the disturbed and the restless, who, because they are so continuously in chaos, seek to make peace whenever and wherever they can. Blessed are those who are without stability, the immigrant and  refugee without a home, but seek it, because they will find a home, a place of security, rest and a peace that is beyond all understanding, within the family of God.[i] Can you see it?

One way to sum up Jesus’ Beatitudes may be: “Blessed are the victims of bad theology.” God is on the side of the  ones violent authoritarians like Pilate victimize and God wants us to see that and then turn the entire culture of greed and violence upside down!

And this, Jesus pronounces, is not a prescription of how things should be or how things could be. Jesus asserts that this is how things are! Can you see it?

If not, then maybe we need some more light! Because if we can’t soon see it, says Jesus, we are all doomed to perish!

I believe this is why Jesus announces: “I have come as light, as the Light of the World, to help you see it, to give all who are blind to it, the sight to see this world as God sees it.” The way of God’s universal, inclusive unconditional love for the entire creation is the only way to never walk in darkness, to never perish, but have the light of life!

And after preaching what we call the Beatitudes, revealing who is truly blessed and favored in by God in this world, Jesus announces to those who want to follow him: You are the lights of the world!  And you must not ever hide your light, shine it privately in a sanctuary or personally at home, but shine your light courageously and publicly on the way things are, so all may begin to see the world the way God sees it.

We are to shine our lights by loving all people, but especially those who are the the victims of bad theology. We are to light it up by loving and doing justice and working to create a world that blesses the least among us: the poor, those who are crying out for their lives to matter, the weak and the underprivileged, those who need mercy, the marginalized who hunger and thirst for justice, the physically maligned but pure in heart, and the spiritually or mentally troubled who yearn for peace.

Will we be despised for it? You bet. Will people say that the way we accept and love and affirm others, the way we speak truth to power, is socially and even theologically unacceptable? Of course. Will we be demeaned and even persecuted by others, even by those in organized religion? Most certainly. Might we get arrested? If we are truly following the way of Jesus, that’s always a possibility!

But here’s the good news:

Jesus also said, “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you [notice the change in person] when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”

So, while many people, even those who claim to be Christian today, have chosen to live in a dark, violent world, a world where they blindly believe that it is the rich, the prosperous, the privileged and the powerful that are blessed and favored by God, a world that will inevitably bring suffering to all of us, including them, let us commit ourselves to living in the world created by our gracious, loving God, in the world that Jesus, the Light of the World, came to help us see.

And let us, as lights of this world, for the sake of this world, keep lighting this world up, courageously, and publicly until the day comes when the eyes of all are finally fully opened, and there is finally peace on earth.

[i]https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Victim_blaming#:~:text=Adorno%20defined%20what%20would%20be,features%20of%20the%20Fascist%20character%22.

[ii] Interpretation of the Beatitudes inspired by Frederick Buechner. Whistling in the Dark: An ABC Theologized (New York: Harper Collins, 1988), 18.

A Topsy-Turvy World

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year BLeave a comment

Mark 10:35-45 NRSV

What a great moment we experienced together last Sunday, as we received the hopeful good news that for God all things are possible! That after 150 years, we are still here, and we are still saying “yes” to following Jesus!

Last week, the commitment of Peter and the disciples, and our own commitments to leave behind friends and family to follow Jesus, were affirmed with a promise from Jesus. With those first disciples, because we are allowing Jesus to turn our lives upside-down by accepting and working for a world where the first are last and the last are first, and the greatest among us are servants, Jesus promised us:

For everything we have given up, he will give us much more. For everything we have turned our back upon, he will give us a hundred times more!

It was a great day! A joyful day! A hopeful day!

But… (C’mon you knew it was coming!) …but, what a difference just one week can make.

Just when we were beginning to think that the disciples were finally starting to get it right, we open our Bibles, and still in this 10th chapter of Mark, we read where James and John, the sons of Zebedee, come asking Jesus if he will do them a favor.

You remember their poor parents, don’t you, Mr. and Mrs. Zebedee? Matthew told us the story of how their family fishing business was nearly destroyed that day a radical rabbi named Jesus came to town. That was the day James and John proved they were willing to drop everything, literally as they dropped their nets, leaving family, their job, everything behind, to follow Jesus (Matthew 4:21).

I am sure Peter had James and John in mind when he said to Jesus: “Look, we have left everything and followed you.”

But today, in the same chapter, we discover that they really don’t have a clue to what it truly means to follow Jesus when they ask Jesus if one can sit at his right and one at his left in his glory.

Pointing out their disappointing cluelessness, Jesus responds: “You really don’t know what you are asking!” For they had no idea that the ones who would end up on Jesus’ right and his left would be hanging on crosses!”

But that’s what it’s like after you say “yes” to Jesus. One Sunday, we got it! One Sunday, we are affirmed by Jesus! One Sunday, the pastor pats you on the back and calls you a kindness-lover, a peace-maker, a justice-doer, and a grace-giver. And the next week, you’re sitting on the struggle bus without a clue.

One Sunday, we feel like we have all the courage we need to stay on the right, albeit narrow, road that leads to life, abundant, meaningful, purposeful, and eternal. And the next week we are struggling, questioning, and wondering if staying on this difficult road with Jesus is really worth all the grief we receive from our family and friends, from our co-workers and neighbors.

We are always being tempted to acquiesce to popular culture. Because, following this narrow way of Jesus really does turn our entire world upside-down, and if we are honest, we’d admit that we’d be much more comfortable if we could just put some of our world back right-side-up.

We think about how good it would be to put ourselves first for a change, to be great again, to live without dying to self, to confront our enemies without having to love them, and to build wealth without having to give everything to the poor. How much better would life be if we identified with the first instead of the last, with those who have the most instead with those who have the least, with the powerful instead of the enslaved.

We think of how much better we would have it if we never heard of a woman whose two copper coins, worth just a few cents, were actually more valuable in the eyes of Jesus than the large bags of money that others were putting into the temple treasury.

We dream of what life would be if we never heard the story of a poor beggar named Lazarus resting by Abraham’s side, while a rich man begs for mercy.

We think about how much better life might be if we never heard the Sermon on the Mount, or the story of the Good Samaritan. How much better would we sleep at night, how much more money would we have in the bank, if could be like the Priest and the Levite who, without a care in the world, passed by on the other side.

New Testament Scholar Martin Copenhaver writes that our gospel lesson in Mark chapter ten bears repeating, because we are continually being tempted “to straighten up the order of things that Jesus turned topsy-turvy.”

As Disciples of Christ were creating a movement in the 19th century to return to the radical teachings of Jesus, German philosopher and cultural critic Friedrich Nietsche was denigrating those teachings calling the way of Jesus “a slave morality.”

Nietshche noticed that Christianity seemed to be most popular among the people in his day who were at were at the bottom: women, children, people living in poverty, people living with disabilities, people of color, and of course, the slaves. He accused Christianity of giving hope to those at the bottom, while offering very little to those at the top.

His criticism served as a warning to the church as they heard Nietshche saying: “If you’re not careful, if you keep teaching the upside down Gospel of Jesus, then you might fill your churches up with the wrong type of people!”

And it was a red flag for the privileged and for the powerful as they understood Nietshche saying: “If you don’t do something about this radical, upside-down topsy-turvy message of Jesus, then your workers may want to organize. They might begin to collectively bargain to improve their economic and social status. Your women may demand to have the same rights as men, even the right to vote. And although it’s unthinkable, they may even want the right to control their own bodies! And your slaves, well, they may rise up and demand to be treated like whole human beings, not just three-fifths.

So, the false prophets in the world went to work. Rejecting the gospel of Jesus that turns the whole world upside down, they began to twist scripture, take it out of context, and even make up unbiblical sayings to preach and teach the antitheses of Jesus, all in order to straighten out the topsy-turviness of the gospel.

“God only helps those who help themselves!” they declared.

“Women should be submissive to men, at home, in the workplace, in government and in the church,” they asserted.

“Children could be exploited for their labor,” they affirmed.

“Jesus was a white European man,” they pronounced in a plethora of artistic portrayals.

“God’s Word sanctions slavery,” they argued.

“Those people are abominations to God,” they preached.

And we know that those false prophets are still very much at work today, “straightening up the order of things that Jesus turned topsy-turvy.”

In an interview with NPR, evangelical leader Russell Moore said that multiple pastors have told him stories about their congregants being upset when they hear words read from the Sermon on the Mount of Jesus proclaiming an upside-down world where the poor are blessed, those who hunger for justice are filled, and the meek inherit the earth.

Moore said:

Multiple pastors tell me essentially, the same story about quoting Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount – [and] to have someone come up after to say. “Where did you get those liberal talking points?” Moore added: “And what was alarming to me is that in most of these scenarios, when the pastor would say, ‘I’m literally quoting Jesus,’ the response would be, ‘Yes, but that doesn’t work anymore. That’s weak.’

So, what do the pastors do? Well, at an alarming rate, many are leaving the ministry. But some stay, but to keep their congregants happy, they water-down the gospel, transforming the offensive counter-cultural meat of Jesus’ teaching into some, warm, comforting chicken soup for the soul. And to pastor a large church, some pastors have traded in the gospel that sides with the weak and the oppressed in exchange for a nationalism that sides with the strong and powerful.

Although this is the reason many people have given up on the church today, the irony is that it is also the reason people need the church today. Because to fight the great temptation to straighten up, water down, or trade in the gospel, people who have made the decision to say “yes” to Jesus need one another. To stay on the radical, narrow, offensive, difficult, counter-cultural, topsy-turvy way of Jesus, we need each other to help keep us accountable and encouraged, especially during these serious times when many in the church are rejecting it, calling it weak.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who stood up to the fascism and white Christian nationalism of his day in Nazi Germany, once prophetically preached:

Christianity stands or falls with its revolutionary protest against violence, arbitrariness, and pride of power, and with its plea for the weak. Christians are doing too little to make these points clear, rather than too much. Christendom adjusts itself far too easily to the worship of power. Christians should give more offense [and] shock the world far more than they are doing now. Christians should take a stronger stand in favor of the weak, rather than considering first the possible right of the strong (Dietrich Bonhoeffer, from his sermon 0n 2 Corinthians 12:9, 1934).

The good news is that we are a part of a church where we are going to keep holding one another accountable. We are going to keep one another encouraged and hopeful. No matter what happens this week, or in the next three weeks, we are going to do all that we can do to stay topsy-turvy, following the radical, narrow, seemingly foolish, upside-down way of Jesus toward the poor, the suffering, the marginalized, the prisoners, the refugees, the undocumented, the lonely, the hungry, the dying, the tortured, the homeless–toward all who thirst and hunger for justice and compassion.

Following this way will shock many. It will offend some of our friends and even disappoint some in our family. Because what does this way offer us? Not success, not popularity, not riches, not worldly power, but we believe—we may not always understand, and at times we are even clueless—but we believe Jesus when he says it leads to a life that is full, complete, meaningful, purposeful, abundant, and eternal, and it creates a world that is more kind, more just, more free, and more merciful. Amen.

Saying “Yes” to Jesus

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year BLeave a comment

Mark 10:17-31 NRSV

I have some good news to share this morning!

But, first, let me give you the bad news—for that is the order that it comes to us through this morning’s gospel lesson. The very first line of our text sets an ominous tone: “As he was setting out on a journey…”  For we all know where that journey takes Jesus—the betrayal, the denials, the abandonment, the condemnation, the mocking, and the crowds cheering it on, the crucifixion, death.

The bad news is that the journey we are on as followers of Jesus leads us to the cross. It leads us to places that we would rather not go. It leads us to sacrifice and self-expenditure. It leads us down a confusing, challenging road. To be first, we are challenged to be last. To be great, we are challenged to be a servant. To save our lives, we are challenged to lose our lives. To live, we challenged to die.

Furthermore, our gospel lesson teaches that saying “yes” to this journey is difficult for many people. The road to the life God has created us to live is truly narrow, and there are few who find it.

We read that a man runs up to Jesus, kneels before him and asks him a very good question: “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”  It is the question of every person: “What must I do to have a life that is full, purposeful and meaningful?”

Jesus replies:

You know the commandments: “You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not defraud; Honor your father and mother.

“But teacher, I have kept all of these since my youth.”

In other words, “Jesus, I have been going to Sabbath School since I was a little boy!”

Mark says that Jesus then looked at the man, (I like this next line) and “loved the man,” and said,

But you lack one thing. Go and sell everything you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.

When the man heard this, he was shocked. And he went way grieving, for he had many possessions.

This is bad news because, here we have a very good person, a law-abiding person, a frequent synagogue goer, a religious person, a sincere seeker, someone raised in the faith, who is unable to say “yes” to the call of Jesus to become one of his disciples.

And here is the really bad news for us. The reason the call of Jesus is rejected is because of something that we, living in our capitalistic society, have a great affinity toward: money. This one is unable to follow Jesus, unable to experience, life, full, meaningful, abundant, and eternal, because he loves his bank account more than he loves poor people.

This is a discouraging teaching for those who live in a culture that believes wealth is the answer to all of life’s problems.

It is no secret that the voters of this country have a history of electing their leaders based on what? The leader’s psychological fitness to lead? Nope. The leader’s moral values and ethical character? Oh, heck no! The leader’s sense of compassion and empathy for others? Ha! The leader’s anti-racist, anti-sexist, pro-LGBTQ sentiments? Lord, have mercy!

It was the campaign strategist of Bill Clinton’s successful 1992 presidential campaign James Carville who answered that question most clearly when he said, “It’s the economy stupid.”

Because what our culture values most is wealth. And we seem to be willing to sacrifice everything that is good and decent and holy to create it and hold on to it. People will vote for someone who uses the same lying, hateful, racist, authoritarian language of Adolph Hitler, if they believe doing so might lower their taxes or assure them that none of their tax dollars will be used to help people of another race, ethnicity, or sexuality.

The spirit of greed and selfishness that possesses our society and drives our economy is bad news when we realize that people with wealth do not fair very well in the Bible. Jesus said it is as harder for a wealthy person to do the right thing than it is to get a camel through an eye of a needle.

That’s the bad news. Now, are you ready for the good news? The good news is that this is not the end of this morning’s gospel lesson.

Jesus responded, ‘For mortals it is impossible [for wealthy people] to receive eternal life, but not for God; for God all things are possible.’

Peter says: ‘Look, we have left everything and followed you.’

And Jesus responds:

Truly I tell you, here is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age—houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields, with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life.

The good news is that this is one of the few times in the gospel story that ol’ Peter opens his big mouth and blurts out something without getting pulled aside and rebuked by Jesus.

Peter says: “Lord, we have left everything—homes, family, friends, jobs—and we have followed you!”

Peter is saying: “Look, Jesus, we are not like the one who came inquiring about eternal life, only to be shocked and grieved by your strange answer. Although you turned our world upside down, although you said things to us like the first shall be last and the last shall be first, and to be the greatest we must be a servant, to save ourselves we must lose ourselves, to live we must die, when you called us, we dropped everything.”

“We let go of a lot to follow you.  And although we do not understand half, a third, ok Jesus, one fourth of the things you teach us, although you scare us to death when you talk about being arrested, tried, and crucified, we’re still here. We didn’t walk away. We’ve stayed the course, and we’ve kept the faith. We may not understand everything, but we do listen! Well, every now and again we might fall asleep, but sometimes we even take notes.”

The good news is that our lesson this morning does not end with the rejection of one greedy man. It ends with a promise from Jesus:

I promise you, for everything you have given up, I will give you much more. For everything you have turned your back upon, I will give you a hundred times more.

Now, are you ready for some more good news?

None of you in this room is like this one who came inquiring about eternal life, only to be shocked and grieved by Jesus’ strange answers. Although Jesus turned your world upside down, although he said things to you like the first shall be last and the last shall be first and to be the greatest you must be a servant, to live you must die, when Jesus called you, you said “yes” to that call.  Some of you let go of a lot to follow him.  And although you do not understand half, a third, ok, one fourth of the things Jesus teaches you, although you don’t even remember last week’s sermon, although Jesus scares you to death when you read of him talking about being arrested, tried and crucified, you’re still here. You’ve not walked away. You’ve stayed the course. You’ve kept the faith.  You may not understand everything you hear, yet you come to this place week after week after week and you listen. Yes, sometimes you fall asleep.  But sometimes, some of you even take some notes!

Although every muscle in your body aches and your knees and hips are worn out, and it hurts to walk and it hurts to sit, and it hurts to stand, you somehow make it to this place every Sunday you can. When you wanted to pull the covers up over your heads and sleep in on this cool Sunday morning, you got up. You got yourself ready and you came. You are here.

And not only are you here to listen to these strange teachings of Jesus, you’ve decided to follow him on a journey that leads to the cross.  You have decided to follow Jesus on a journey that leads to sacrifice and self-expenditure.

Some of you have given up wealth by turning down more lucrative careers in order make a difference in the world by working for a non-profit or as a public servant, by teaching children or caring for senior adults.

Although you don’t have to, and really don’t want to, many of you frequently volunteer as selfless servants in this community— volunteering at the hospital or the Free Clinic, delivering meals on wheels, helping neighbors with their groceries at Park View Mission, advocating for someone with special needs or serving on the board of a non-profit. You freely share your wealth donating to charity and investing in the community.

Many of you have said yes to be a deacon, an elder, a Sunday School teacher or a board member—to work with our children and youth, to sing in the choir, to give to a hurricane relief fund or to purchase diapers or baby formula to deliver to strangers in need, to do whatever you can, with whatever it takes, whatever the cost, wherever you are, to make this world a better place.

And although the way is sometimes difficult, as few follow and many reject this way, you welcome the opportunity to get into some good trouble, some necessary trouble. You are willing to speak out before the town council or the school board, and you are willing to pay the price for doing so.

Although it has made you the black sheep of your own family, you do not hesitate to defend those who are marginalized by sick religion. Your stand for social justice has caused some of your friends to alienate you or to even unfriend you but you keep standing!

Living in a part of the world where it is most unpopular to do so, where the majority of church people have rejected the way of Jesus, you have fully embraced this narrow way that Jesus taught and modeled as you empathetically stand with immigrants and minorities who are being scapegoated, with women whose rights have been taken away, and with the poor who are being crushed by policies of greed.

And you are standing firm in this election season against Christian Nationalism and White Supremacy, the very Spirit of the anti-Christ that is possessing many in the church today.

You speak up for both Jews and Palestinians. You defend the freedom of people of all religions, and you defend people’s right to be free from religion. You decry all war, violence, hate and bigotry.

You deny yourself, love your enemies, forgive seventy times seven, offer the shirt off your back, and you are willing to go the extra mile to heal the hurting, welcome the excluded, and free the oppressed.

When people say that we should only help those who help themselves, you quote Jesus saying: “We are to love our neighbors as we love ourselves!”

When people scream, “America first!” you quote Jesus saying: “for God so loves the whole world!”

When people chant, “Send them back!” You model Jesus by finding those who are being scapegoated, and you invite them to join you at a table.

And when people say they love the sinner, but hate the sin, you remind them that Jesus never once followed the word “love” in a sentence with the word “but!”

As I said last night at our 150-celebration, you have joined members of this historic congregation, and the saints who have gone before us, to do all that you can do to be a kindness-lover, a peace-maker, a foot-washer, a cheek-turner, a justice-doer, and a grace-giver.[i]

The bad news is the story of this one we read about in Mark’s gospel ends with greed, selfishness, grieving and rejection. The good news is that his story is not your story. For even when you were shocked by Jesus’ strange and challenging teaching, you dropped everything and followed him. And because of that, although you suffer persecution from even the people you love, your story ends with a promise from Jesus. Thanks be to God.

[i] Inspired by the words of John Pavlovitz, If God Is Love, Don’t Be a Jerk (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 2021), 69.