Sunday, January 2, 2022

 Rev. Dr. Sylvia Lee Mann's sermon for January 2nd, 2022 (The 2nd Sunday after Christmas, Year C). "Gladness for Sorrow" (Focus Scripture Jeremiah 37: 7-14)

Saturday, May 23, 2020

I am a Christian but...

I am a Christian, but…

… I have a hard time saying that lately, because I know what you’re probably thinking about me the moment I do. Many of you watch the news and you see what’s happening in America, and you have an image in your mind of Christians which I fear you probably automatically lump me into by default.

I understand why. I know that the loudest voices often carry the greatest weight, and right now those voices speaking for my faith tradition are heavy on acrimony and painfully short on compassion. Those voices reek of bigotry and entitlement and manufactured martyrdom. They speak with cruelty and malice and malevolence—but they do not speak for me.

I absolutely don’t believe they speak for Jesus either. These voices are the false prophets and teachers we were warned about so long ago.

I need you to know that what you witnessed outside the courthouse in Kentucky several years ago now, and at that “Unite the Right” rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, and everything that has recently paved a path of hate here in America, does not represent me or millions of people like me. I need you to know that Mike Huckabee and Kim Davis and Fox News, and Betsy DeVos and Mitch McConnell and Franklin Graham and Pat Robertson and those anonymous people espousing white power and killing trans people and yes, and Donald Trump do not speak for us or for the Christianity we have devoted our lives to. They do not reflect our hearts for all people, or many of the things we aspire to do and be in this world.

I really miss my Kid Christianity.

I was raised on the stories of Jesus. They were the sweet milk of my childhood. Long before I ever knew what a political party was, before I ever heard the words Conservative or Liberal; long before I knew what denominations or media bias or culture wars were, I had this Jesus:

He was the one who was born into barren smallness, amidst the smell of damp straw and animal dung.

The one who called people to leave security and home and livelihood behind, in order to model the truly blessed life together.

The one who lived in homeless humility, living off the generosity of those whose thankful hearts gave a home to his words.

The one who defied rules of decorum and purity and tradition in order to bring healing and comfort and hope.

The one who spoke of relentless forgiveness for wrongdoing, of praying earnestly for enemies, of lavishly loving the least, of radically showing mercy.

The one who fed thousands of strangers on a hillside, not because they were deserving or morally fit, but because they were hungry.

The one who preached about the Kingdom of God; a way of being rooted in selflessness and sacrifice; one in direct, defiant opposition to the greed and power and inequality of the day.

The one who spoke unflinchingly into injustice and corruption and religious hypocrisy, and into the hearts and the systems that created and nurtured them.

The one who regularly ate with the priests and the prostitutes, treating both with equal dignity.

The one who endured wrongful imprisonment, brutal violence, and excruciating execution to show the world what love looks like when it pours itself out completely for others.

This is the Jesus that first spoke to me and inspired me and gripped my spirit, and the one that still compels me today even as I struggle to find my place in the faith tradition of my childhood.

It is this Jesus that I cling desperately to when hope in my people and our religion is failing.

It is this Jesus I fear you’re no longer able to see in so much of the faith that bears his name.

Yet I am still fiercely burdened to show you this Jesus; to remind you that there are people just like me still out there, who believe that faith is never meant to broker power or position, to exclude or exploit.

I want you to know that there are people who believe that defending equality in all forms is a non-negotiable for someone who claims Christ.

I want you to know that there are still people who believe that the Bible is a tool to help us personally encounter God, not to publicly bulldoze those we disagree with or fear.

I want you to know that there people out there who believe that the sacred way is to take the lowest place and to give to those who have less and to rescue those held captive.

I also know that part of this is my fault; for being complacent and passive and silent; for being complicit in this gradual hijacking of Jesus by allowing it—but I won’t make that mistake any more.

I am going to be much louder with this love, until it shouts out the angry taunts and insults and war rhetoric of those who have commandeered Christianity and turned it into something far less beautiful, far less hope-giving, far less deserving of Jesus’ name.

This is my hope and prayer.

Yes, Dear World, I am a Christian.

Saturday, May 6, 2017

Good Shepherd

Good Shepherd Sunday – May 7, 2017


Jesus as shepherd -  Jesus as the door or gate of the sheepfold.

The Gospel of John spends considerable time on the concepts of “Life”, or “eternal life”. Here’s the thing – it’s not just about life after death. It is life that begins here and now; it is about knowing God: Creator, Sustainer, Redeemer, Spirit. It is about knowing the voice of the good shepherd who teaches us, loves us, truly cares for us. It is life in community, finding security and nourishment as part of his flock. It is life that abounds in meaning and value and endures even beyond death.

Jesus emphasizes something about sheep: that they absolutely know the voice of their shepherd. Whatever else one can say about their mental prowess (or lack thereof - we have all probably heard the tales of sheep as not being the “brightest bulbs”), here is something important: The sheep recognize the voice of the one who cares for them. They follow their shepherd. They will not follow a stranger whose voice they do not know. 

What about us? Do we recognize the voice of the good shepherd over all the other voices?

Friday, February 17, 2017

This week at Bethel in our service we will participate in a
Liturgy for “Day of Remembrance”
of Japanese American Internment
Sunday, February 19, 2017
(from UCC, Worship Ways)

A “Day of Remembrance” is observed annually in February for the Japanese American community and for all Americans. This is a time to remember the pain and deprivations arising from the US Government’s wartime mass exile and imprisonment of Japanese Americans living on the West Coast of our nation, and related actions against persons of Japanese ancestry living in Hawaii and other regions of our nation. It is a time for all of us to reflect on the damage done to our nation when we treat people differently based on their race, ethnicity or religion. Most of all, it is a time for all Americans to learn from our errors and to renew our commitment to love and protect the equality and dignity of all persons. 

February 19, 2017, is the 75th Anniversary of Executive Order 9066, signed by President Franklin Roosevelt, that resulted in the mass exile and imprisonment of over 120,000 Americans of Japanese ancestry, solely because of their race. In 1942, the US military exiled every man, woman and child of Japanese ancestry living on the West Coast, two-thirds of them American citizens, and put them in prison camps, without a single criminal charge against them and no trials to establish any wrongdoing on their part. This action is widely viewed as one of the darkest moments in our nation’s history, when we failed to uphold the constitutional rights we hold so dear for all of us.

These actions were taken against Japanese Americans based on our government’s claims of “military necessity,” saying their ethnicity made them disloyal to the United States, that our country was at risk of harm if they were not locked up, and that the loyal could not be distinguished from the disloyal. They were imprisoned behind barbed wire for over three years, and deprived of virtually every right guaranteed by the US Constitution, not because of any wrongdoing, but solely because of their race. Many lost all they had – their homes, farms, livelihoods and friends. Some lost their lives as well. The President, Congress and the courts all approved these constitutional deprivations based on claims of “military necessity.” No similar mass actions were taken against Americans of German or Italian descent.

A fair examination of the circumstances underlying these wartime actions never occurred until 1980, when Congress established a Commission on Wartime Internment and Relocation of Civilians to investigate these events. The Commission took testimony from over 750 witnesses and examined thousands of wartime documents, many declassified for the first time. The Commission’s 1983 report, entitled “Personal Justice Denied, concluded: “The promulgation of Executive Order 9066 was not justified by military necessity, and the decisions which followed from it - detention, ending detention and ending exclusion - were not driven by analysis of military conditions. The broad historical causes which shaped these decisions were race prejudice, war hysteria and a failure of political leadership.”

Congress subsequently approved an apology and symbolic monetary redress to Americans of Japanese ancestry, and a presidential apology was issued to all survivors. Yet the “precedent” of these wartime actions lies about like a loaded weapon, ready for the hand of any authority that can bring forward a plausible claim of urgent need. (Justice Jackson, dissenting in Korematsu v. United States).
In the past year, we have heard repeated references to the “precedent” of these wartime actions, to propose rounding up, registering, imprisoning or deporting Muslim Americans, Syrian refugees, Mexican Americans, and others. We pray that we never forget the lessons learned from our wartime treatment of Americans of Japanese ancestry.

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Ruth and Naomi

In preparing sermons and Bible studies, I came across this wonderful study, and I share it with you here:

Ruth and Naomi
“Ruth and Naomi” by contemporary Chinese artist He Qi

The same Hebrew word that is used in Genesis 2:24 to describe how Adam felt about Eve (and how spouses are supposed to feel toward each other) is used in Ruth 1:14 to describe how Ruth felt about Naomi. Her feelings are celebrated, not condemned.
And throughout Christian history, Ruth's vow to Naomi has been used to illustrate the nature of the marriage covenant. These words are often read at Christian wedding ceremonies and used in sermons to illustrate the ideal love that spouses should have for one another. The fact that these words were originally spoken by one woman to another tells us a lot about how God feels about same-gender relationships.

This text is an excerpt from The Children Are Free: Reexamining the Biblical Evidence on Same-sex Relationships. It’s available from and directly from the publisher.


In the entire Bible, there are only two books named after women. One is Esther, which tells the story of a Jewish woman who becomes Queen of Persia and saves her people from destruction by “coming out” as Jewish to her husband, the king. The other is Ruth, which tells the story of two women who love and support one another through difficult times. Both books contain powerful messages for gay, lesbian, and bisexual people, but it is the story of Ruth that addresses the question we raised in chapter one: Can two people of the same sex live in committed, loving relationship with the blessing of God?

At the beginning of the book of Ruth, we’re introduced to Naomi and her husband Elimelech. They are from Bethlehem, where a terrible famine has made it impossible to find food. So, they take their two sons and move to Moab, a foreign land where they believe they’ll be able to survive. Unfortunately, Elimelech dies shortly after arriving in Moab. Several years pass, and Naomi’s sons marry Ruth and Orpah, two women from the surrounding country. But before they can have children, the sons also die. Naomi, Ruth, and Orpah are left alone with no husbands and no sons.
To understand the full impact of what happened, we need to put ourselves in the mindset of the time. When this story was written, women had only two acceptable places in society: They could be a daughter in their father’s household or a wife in their husband’s household. A woman without a man had no social standing. There are several stories in the Old Testament about widows who almost starved to death, because they had no man to take care of them. (See note 1.) 

Note 1. For examples, see the stories of widows who came to Elijah and Elisha for help (1 Kings 17:10-24 and 2 Kings 4:1-37), and the story of the woman from Tekoa who confronted David (2 Samuel 14:4-12). Also, in Genesis 38, Judah tells his daughter-in-law Tamar to return to her father’s house, because her husband has died, illustrating the two possibilities available to a woman.

The constant biblical command to “look after widows and orphans” stems from the understanding that widows were among the most vulnerable people in society.
This context makes the next scene almost unbelievable. Naomi, grieving and recognizing her fate as a widow, decides to return to Bethlehem where her father’s family is, and where she hopes to find food. She counsels her daughters-in-law to do the same — to return to their own families. She knows she can’t offer them any support as a woman, and she fears she’ll only be a burden. Orpah, sensibly, returns home.

But Ruth cannot bear to do so. Her feelings run too deep. The Hebrew word used in Ruth 1:14 to describe those feelings is quite telling. The text says, “Ruth clung to [Naomi].” The Hebrew word for “clung” is “dabaq.” This is precisely the same Hebrew word used in Genesis 2:24 to describe how Adam felt toward Eve.

You probably remember the story of Adam and Eve, as recorded in Genesis 2. After God creates Adam, he is terribly lonely. None of the animals God has created -- magnificent as they are -- can meet Adam’s deep need for companionship. So God puts Adam into a deep sleep, takes a rib from his side, and creates Eve. When Eve is presented to Adam, he exclaims, “This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh . . . !” Finally, Adam had a human companion.

The next verse in the text then draws an important theological conclusion from Adam’s experience. It says that, for this reason (i.e., the need for companionship), a man should leave his father and mother when he grows up and “cling” (“dabaq”) to his wife. (Genesis 2:24) And, of course, for the vast majority of human beings, that is God’s will for them -- for a man and woman to leave their parents home and form a relationship with each other that is so close, so intimate, that they can be described as “clinging” to one another.

But what about people who aren’t heterosexual? Is it possible for them, with God’s blessing, to form that type of intimate relationship with someone of their own gender?

The Holy Spirit answers that question definitively in Ruth 1:14. There the Scriptures say -- without apology, embarrassment, or qualification -- that Ruth felt the same way toward Naomi as spouses are supposed to feel toward each other. Far from being condemned, Ruth’s feelings are celebrated.
In fact, so as to remove any doubt about how Ruth felt toward Naomi, the Scriptures go on to record the details of the vow that Ruth made to Naomi. Here are her words:

“Do not press me to leave you or to turn back from following you! Where you go, I will go; where you lodge I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die, I will die — there will I be buried. May the Lord do thus and so to me, and more as well, if even death parts me from you!” (Ruth 1:16-17)

When Ruth spoke those haunting words, “Where you die, I will die — there will I be buried,” she wasn’t talking about some theoretical distant future. She was giving voice to the very real possibility that her decision to place her life in the hands of another woman could result in death. The sensible thing would have been to allow Naomi to return to her family and for Ruth to return to hers. But Ruth didn’t do the sensible thing. She threw caution to the wind and went against every survival instinct. Only one word could explain her actions — love.

After this speech, spoken in the first chapter, the story moves on to tell of Ruth and Naomi’s life together. The focus is on the quality of their relationship. The biblical storyteller chronicles how Ruth cared for Naomi by taking the only job available to a husbandless woman, gleaning. When the author tells of Ruth’s eventual marriage to a much older man, the marriage is portrayed as one of convenience, contrived to help Ruth and Naomi survive the harsh conditions of widowhood. No mention is made of Ruth’s love for her husband. And, when Ruth finally bears a son from her marriage, the text focuses on Naomi and her reaction to the great news, not on the father. In fact, the women of the village (and the author) ignore the father entirely, saying, “A son has been born to Naomi.” (Ruth 4:17) They remind her that Ruth “who loves you, is more to you than seven sons.” (Ruth 4:15) Everyone seems to understand that, for Ruth and Naomi, their most important relationship is the one they share.

Here then is the story the Bible tells: Ruth felt toward Naomi as Adam felt toward Eve; she gave up everything so she could be with Naomi; she put her own life at risk, so she could spend it caring for Naomi; and, even after she married a man, her most important relationship remained the one she shared with Naomi. These actions and emotions are difficult, almost impossible, to explain as mere friendship. If we set aside our preconceptions of what is possible in the Bible, the book of Ruth reads like the story of two women in love.

Instinctively, and perhaps unwittingly, Christians throughout the centuries have acknowledged the validity of this interpretation. The vow Ruth makes to Naomi (quoted above) has been read at Christian weddings for centuries because it so perfectly captures the essence of the love that should exist between spouses. It seems more than a little inconsistent to use these words to define and celebrate spousal love, but then adamantly insist that those who originally spoke the words did not love each other like spouses.

In the first edition of her book Our Tribe, Rev. Nancy Wilson, herself a lesbian, tells of a time when she performed in a play that included the story of Ruth and Naomi:

 “After the first or second performance, a young heterosexual couple came up to me shyly, saying how much they loved the play, especially the part about Ruth and Naomi — which I had explained in the talk-back with the audience afterward. They liked the passage from Ruth so much that they wanted my permission to use it in their wedding ceremony! I was so touched I almost started laughing, but I quite seriously gave them permission, but only if somehow they could indicate that these words were originally spoken from one woman to another. They cheerfully agreed to my ‘terms,’ thanked me and left. I [now] have fantasies of interrupting poor, unsuspecting heterosexuals at their wedding with “STOP, in the name of Ruth and Naomi. . . ! Stop stealing our stories while making our relationships illegal or characterizing them as immoral!” (See note 2.) 

Note 2. Rev. Nancy Wilson, Our Tribe: Queer Folks, God, Jesus and the Bible (HarperSanFrancisco, 1995), page 157.

That is precisely what many in the Church have done, roundly condemning any women who dare to share the same vow as Ruth made to Naomi. Yet, how can it be wrong for two women to make these vows when we have the biblical example of Ruth and Naomi doing exactly that?
Some may object, saying, “But the Bible doesn’t come right out and say Ruth and Naomi were lovers. It’s fine for women to live together and care for each other . . . just nothing else.” These people seem to think the main difference between modern lesbian relationships (which they condemn) and the biblical portrayal of Ruth and Naomi (which they accept) is that the Bible doesn’t explicitly mention that Ruth and Naomi were sexually intimate. But we challenge that notion. Whether or not Ruth and Naomi were physically intimate, we believe it is the mere idea of two women living in loving, covenantal relationship that many Christians object to.

Imagine a conservative televangelist counseling two women from his congregation. The women say to him, “We want to live together and pledge our love to each other in the sight of God and this congregation. We want our church family to celebrate our relationship. And, for the words of our vows, we want to use Ruth 1:16-17.”

He says, “I can’t allow that. Our church is against homosexuality.” “Oh,” the women say, “that’s okay, we’ll remain celibate. Think of it as a ‘Boston marriage’.” (See note 3.)

Note 3. In Our Tribe, Nancy Wilson states, “ ‘Boston marriage’ is a term from the Victorian era, used for women who lived together in lifelong committed friendships that were, it was assumed, devoid of sex.” (page 291.) The video Out of the Past (Unapix Entertainment, Inc., New York, 1998) documents how these marriages were accepted in the upper classes of most East coast cities (like Boston), until the women’s suffrage movement made them too threatening to the male political structure.

Do you think the televangelist would say, “Well in that case, let’s schedule a date! What about June 5th?” Of course not! The very notion that two women would make such vows to each other is socially repugnant to him. His prejudices tell him this kind of love between members of the same sex is “disgusting.” But the Bible is in direct opposition to the televangelist’s prejudice.

The Bible is clear. Here we have two women who made vows, lived together for life, loved each other deeply, adopted each other’s extended families as their own, and relied on each other for sustenance — as do many lesbian women today. Instead of condemning these relationships, the Bible celebrates them, giving them their own book in Scripture.