Year A, Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost
October 22, 2023
Year A: Exodus 33:12-23; Psalm 99; 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10; Matthew 22:15-22
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It continues to be a challenging time for humanity worldwide—we see the brutal images of Israel and the Gaza Strip. We continue to witness the horror of violence, war, murder, and destruction in far-off places and our communities. Innocent Jews and Palestinians, Ukrainians, and Russians are caught in the crossfire of conflict, all amid a backdrop of ongoing political unrest in their countries and our own country.
Most of you know that Marty and I went on one of those epic journeys that one often dreams about when they’re younger. We crossed the Pacific Ocean from Vancouver, British Columbia, to Hawaii. The crossing was a reminder of the beauty of God’s creation. The calm waters and clear skies offered much tranquility and peace. I captured a spectacular moment under those brilliant stars with my iPhone – no filters or special lenses – just the magnificence of the natural world.
In a cruel twist of fate, the very same day I took that photograph, Hamas attacked Israel, leading to significant loss of life and escalating tensions.
The situation in Gaza is critical. With many Palestinians and Israelis displaced and essential resources dwindling, with many dead, and injured or tortured, the contradictions we face are sobering: the peace of nature against human-made chaos. This grim reality serves as a reminder of the contrasts in our world. To further emphasize the gravity of the situation, my friend traveling with us had and has an ever more personal connection to the conflict; her son is part of the first US Navy carrier group deployed near Israel’s coast.
There’s just been much to endure — emotionally and spiritually. The reality is that evil exists; atrocities are perpetrated, sin is real, injustice reigns, oppression takes root, and humanity is broken. Hope abides, but sometimes it’s just so hard to see.
As people who worship a first-century Jew who lived in ancient Palestine, we would do well to walk alongside our siblings in faith, especially when they are walking through what we hard last week in Psalm 23, what surely feels like the valley of the shadow of death.
Somehow, it seems appropriate that the reading of the Thessalonians shows up in our lectionary texts this morning.
First Thessalonians is one of the earliest letters written by Paul, and it provides valuable insight into the life of one of the earliest communities to follow Christ. The community in Thessalonica is particularly notable for its enthusiastic reception of the Gospel and its perseverance despite facing persecution from the Romans.
We hear a message from Paul, Timothy, and Silvanus that underscores the importance of faithful perseverance and the Gospel’s transformative power. Examining the Thessalonians’ steadfastness amid challenges reminds us of the significance of unwavering faith, hope, and love.
The message we hear in Thessalonians isn’t trite pabulum. These aren’t merely comforting words but grounding truths in our chaotic world. Faith, hope, and love are central to Paul’s message. These principles provide solace, call for compassionate action and resilience, and remind us of a grander narrative amidst immediate challenges. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. once emphasized hope’s importance, saying, “We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.”
Jesus’ presence in our world is a radical statement of God’s abiding presence – not only when times are easy but when life is most harrowing and heartbreaking. And it’s a bold affirmation that, in the end, the only thing we can hold onto when life is swirling beyond our control is faith, hope, and love in God’s presence.
The attack on Israeli citizens occurred on the Jewish holiday of Simchat Torah. It’s a day that marks the conclusion of the annual cycle of Torah readings. And so it is a day when the last verses of Deuteronomy are read, followed by the first verses of Genesis. Each time the Torah scrolls are opened, worshippers dance and sing, and it is traditionally a time of joyful celebration.
This year’s celebration was obviously different, a mix of joy and sorrow. But this is often the life of faith. Saint Paul often eloquently expresses that we are “treated…as sorrowful yet always rejoicing…”1
How do we rejoice? The opening lines read from Scripture on Simchat Torah include the story of Creation. And what’s the first thing that God says? Literally, the first divine utterance in all of Scripture: “Let there be light.”2 The world starts with light. Light is what God brings to the world. Light is God’s mission statement. We see that in Genesis. And all of God’s people, Jews, Christians, and Muslims alike, look to Genesis as our origin story. We all look to a world that begins with light. We are all created and made in the image of God. And so, while we can and must condemn evil, we cannot condemn one another. To do so is to diminish the light within us.
I hope I never stand up in a pulpit and pretend I have all the answers to the thorny questions that vex our nation and world. But as I stand in this pulpit, I am committed to helping us all look at life through the lens of scripture and the lens of faith. In the present conflict, I wish things were as black and white as many on both sides are portraying. They are not.
But to be clear, the demonization of other human beings is not of God. The murder of children is not of God. Taking hostages is not of God. Torture is not of God. We must name evil when it arises and do all in our power to counteract its forces by shining light into the dark recesses of humanity’s brokenness.
And so, it’s possible to condemn the savagery of a terrorist organization without condemning an entire race or religion. You can support the right of a nation to defend itself while also expressing concern about innocent people caught in the crossfire. Compassion and human decency do not take sides.
Our world has its share of challenges, but our hope in Christ must remain steadfast. As we step into another week, I urge you to engage deeply with these principles. Bolster your faith, reach out in love, and grasp tightly to the hope that Christ offers. Though we face challenges, with faith, hope, and love, we have tools to navigate them.
St. John writes in the prologue to his gospel, “The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness did not overcome it.”3 In difficult moments, hard moments, and unthinkable moments — both in the world and our own lives — the light shines in the darkness. Hope does abide. For Christians, hope is embedded in the Light of Christ. It shines brightly, casting out darkness, reminding us that even at the foot of the cross, even when all worldly hope has been abandoned, the light still shines.
And so I bid all of us not to give up, not to toss up our hands in despair or retreat to a safe bubble of denial. Weep with those who weep, mourn with those who mourn. Pray for peace, never abandon hope, and keep seeking glimmers of light amid the darkness. As people of faith, we have no other path.
Let us pray:
“O God of all justice and peace, we cry out to you amid the pain and trauma of violence and fear which prevails in the Holy Land. Be with those who need you in these days of suffering; we pray for people of all faiths – Jews, Muslims, Christians – and all people of the land. While we pray to you, O Lord, to end violence and establish peace, we also call for you to bring justice and equity to the peoples. Guide us into your kingdom where all people are treated with dignity and honor as your children, for, to all of us, you are the Heavenly Father. In Jesus’ name, we pray. Amen.”
1 Cf. 2 Corinthians 6:8, 10 New Revised Standard Version (“NRSV”)
2 Genesis 1:3, NRSV
3 John 1:5, NRSV