This is Not my Sermon

💛 
God grant me the serenity 
to accept the things I cannot change, 
the courage to change what I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.

This week, as I prayed and pondered about the most important message for this congregation at this time, everything I came up with seemed to fall short. What is in these readings that could possibly inspire an already amazing congregation? This is not exactly me avoiding my exegesis. It’s a simple statement of fact. However, I admit, I might have a problem.

If I’m gonna make this Curacy thing work, I need to simplify my sermon prep process. Yes, I took homiletics (preaching) classes in seminary. Yes, I know the proper steps to take to write a decent sermon with a concise and clear message. Simply stated, problem is, I have Sermon Prep FOMO. Trust me, it’s a thing.

I cast such a wide net when I am working on a sermon; I drag in so many different possibilities, that often I simply cannot decide where to begin. Here are a few of my habitual practices. Sometimes, I create a Spotify playlist with songs that reflect some of the themes of the weekly scripture readings. I look for signs. I will ponder the meaning of the lightning bug that landed on a commentary, researching the spiritual meaning of fireflies. (No surprise, they bring light to dark places, signify change, creativity, and spiritual growth. The way their light shines through them, making them both luminescent and transparent, could indicate heart connections.)  

A diamondback turtle scuttled through the grass as I was working on my sermon, and I took a video as she disappeared into the nearby marsh. Naturally, I needed to investigate. Diamondback turtles are currently a vulnerable species in certain areas due in part to overbuilding, which has jeopardized their natural habitats.  

Should I burrow deep into the weeds like my turtle friend or fly higher up like the lightning bug in order to enlighten the folks? There are just way too many choices. Here are some potential options:

We could begin by discussing the discrepancy between some biblical translations of the 70 or 72 that Jesus sent out on a training mission. What is the meaning of the 70? The 72? There’s a lot of speculation, for example, there are seventy nations that sprang from Noah’s family in Genesis 10. Moses took 70 elders up the mountain to meet God in Exodus. The Israelites spent 70 years in captivity in Babylon. There were seventy elders who made up the Sanhedrin, the great tribunal that pressed for Jesus’ arrest. We might even look to Psalm 70, a prayer for deliverance from enemies, which could fit our passage. 

We could do the same thing with the number 72, citing the 72 nations listed in Genesis in the Greek version of the Hebrew Bible, the Septuagint. We could sleuth until the cows come home. And maybe we should, but I’m not sure we need to, really. One thing I’m certain about is that when it comes to the Bible, we’re better off letting go of certainty.

We could examine Jesus’ rather unusual, very specific instructions: take no purse, no bag, no sandals. Stay in one place, eating and drinking whatever is provided. Does this give anyone else a little anxiety? Those disciples are sent out in a vulnerable position, like lambs among wolves to be specific. 

We could discuss the power of vulnerability and its importance to our relationships. We might delve into Brene Brown’s work on how fear of vulnerability can lead to shame, while vulnerability can open us to joy, creativity, belonging, and love.   

We might discuss the work of Baltimore-born civil rights activist, lawyer, and Episcopal priest Pauli Murray this week. Whose feast day is this week. Murray was the first African American female to be ordained a priest. Murray refused to give up a seat on public transportation well before Rosa Parks and went on to impact civil rights and gender equality legislation. Pauli Murray knew how to shake the dust off her feet. Although highly qualified, Murray was rejected by Harvard because of gender. Pauli Murray is a name we should all be familiar with. 

We could explore peace and what it might mean to bring our peace to a household. We may recall the beloved Vietnamese monk Thich Nhat Hanh, who taught his students that to offer peace, we must first be peace. Who said, “If in our daily life we can smile, if we can be peaceful and happy, not only we, but everyone will profit from it. This is the most basic kind of peace work.” I love that!

Finally (maybe), I guess we could discuss “Ecclesiology,” the study of the Church and what it means to be a follower of Jesus today in this post-postmodern, post-colonialist, pluralistic world. Dear God, help me decide. 

See what I mean? Please pray for me. 

Stay tuned for Sunday.

Love,

Curate Connie+