First Presbyterian Church
Love and Birth
Sermon for February 1, 2004
by Pastor Susan Barnes

Children's time: Naaman and Zarephath

I'm going to tell you two stories, and see if you can tell what's alike about them. A long time before Jesus was born, there was a man named Naaman who was the commander of an army. His country, Aramea, was also called Syria , and it had won a victory over Israel , and even took Israelites as slaves. Naaman got a bad skin disease called leprosy. A slave from Israel told him there was a prophet in Samaria who could help him. Samaria was in Israel . In Jesus' time, the people in Israel hated Samaritans, and the Syrians.

The Israelite king complained that he couldn't help, but Elisha in Samaria said “I can,” so Naaman came. And when Naaman came, Elisha told him what to do to be healed, and Naaman complained he didn't want to, but he ended up doing it, and he got well. 1 Kings 5:1-27

And then there was a widow in a place called Zarephath, in Sidon , also called Phoenicia . Phoenicians and Sidonians had fought with the Israelites for a long time, and mostly won. In Elijah's time, and in Jesus' time, Israelites hated people from Sidon . The prophet Elijah went to Phoenicia , and asked a Phoenician woman for some food. She said she didn't have any food for him; there was just enough for one meal for her and her son. Elijah told her don't be afraid, just feed me. She did that, and her food lasted a long time. Wouldn't you think they would thank each other? But they didn't. Later, when her son was very sick, and Elijah came back, she yelled at him for making her son sick – like he had anything to do with it. So Elijah put the child to bed, and yelled at God for making the child sick. And guess what happened? Yes, the child got well. 1 Kings 17:9-24

What's alike? Yes, the stories are about people Israelites hated.

Listen for the word of God as we read it together from Psalm 71.

1 In you, O LORD, I take refuge; let me never be put to shame.
2 In your righteousness deliver me and rescue me; incline your ear to me and save me.
3 Be to me a rock of refuge, a strong fortress, to save me, for you are my rock and my fortress.
4 Rescue me, O my God, from the hand of the wicked, from the grasp of the unjust and cruel.
5 For you, O Lord, are my hope, my trust, O LORD, from my youth.
6 Upon you I have leaned from my birth; it was you who took me from my mother's womb. My praise is continually of you.

This ends our reading from the Psalms. The Revised Standard Version translates the last part of verse 6 as “it was you who took me from my mother's womb.” But the Hebrew is really “from my mother's womb you cut me.” The psalmist refers to the act of cutting the umbilical cord, a natural part of the birth process. In those days, the person who did that was not the father, as it is more often today, but the midwife, whose task it was to comfort the mother as well as care for the baby.

One four-year-old I knew was concerned about that process when his mother had his baby sister. His big concern was cutting the umbilical cord would hurt the baby and his mom. He didn't believe that it wouldn't, not even after his parents read him children's books about how babies are born.

Then he asked, “Is there skin on it?” His parents assured him there was no skin on the umbilical cord. That was the answer he needed to hear. It wouldn't hurt the baby, and it wouldn't hurt his mom.

Mike was the labor coach at the births of both our children. He said that it was hard to cut the cord, because it was tough. He had to really work at it. But he said it was exhilarating at the same time; he knew it was a transition into a new time.

Being cut from your mother is good; it means you are ready to breathe air, seeing light, hearing sounds.

In the psalm, God's hands are moving; snatch me from my enemies, throw me away from the wicked, cutting me from my mother. The image we are left with is that of God being active in our lives, shielding us, cradling us, protecting us. That's what God's hands do.

In our gospel lesson, the people in Nazareth were looking for a little help. They looked to their hometown boy, Jesus, who has just read aloud in the synagogue. As you hear the lesson, notice the reason that the worshipers got mad.

Listen for the word of God as it is found in Luke 4:21-30.

Then he began to say to them, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."
All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. They said, "Is not this Joseph's son?" He said to them, "Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, 'Doctor, cure yourself!' And you will say, 'Do here also in your hometown the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum .'" And he said, "Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet's hometown. But the truth is, there were many widows in Israel in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up three years and six months, and there was a severe famine over all the land; yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon . There were also many lepers in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian." When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff. But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way.

Did you hear the reason? It was because he dared to say that he wasn't staying, that he was going away. Local boy makes good —he owed them everything, after all. But he didn't serve them; he made plans to leave. Jesus loved the wrong people; it didn't matter that he was following in the prophet's footsteps; it didn't matter than Elijah and Elisha did the same thing; what mattered is that he was supposed to be loyal to the people in his hometown, stick around, participate in some economic development by bringing in tourists, or patients, and making Nazareth a destination location.

And so he refused, and the crowd got angry. It's easy to hate what you can't have, and anger is a much more satisfying feeling than disappointment.

Elijah healed a Phoenician; a historic enemy of Israel , and he did it in Samaria , an unclean place. Elisha healed an enemy of the state. Jesus had many stories about native born Israelites he could have used in his sermon, but instead, he chose those too, about foreigners helping and being helped by Israel 's prophets. Jesus did not out of hate fore Israel, but out of love for all Israel, and all the world.

Listen to the choir interpret Paul's words on love from 1 Corinthians.

Let us pray: God source of all light, by your word you give light to the soul. Pour out upon us the spirit of wisdom and understanding that, being taught by you in Holy Scripture, our hearts and minds may be opened to know the things that pertain to life and holiness; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

One elderly male theologian, Eugene Peterson, wrote about one particular birth. He said, “A few years ago, on the seventh day of Christmas, I got in on my first birthing, my first firsthand experience of this holy mystery.

It came when my daughter-in-law invited me to be present at the birth of her third child. She knew how disappointed I was in never having been permitted to witness the birth of my own three children. But in the years when my wife was giving birth to our children, fathers were banished to outer darkness (where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth.) So what I had missed with my own children, by her generosity I experienced with this grandchild.

Nowhere I have ever been and nothing I have ever done in God's creation rivals what I experienced in that birthing room. The setting was austere—antiseptic and functional—but the life, the sheer life exploding out of the womb that night, transformed it into a place of revelation. My son received the baby into his hands as she came in the world.” Welcome, Sadie Lynn!”

I have climbed mountain peaks that gave me views of glaciated mountains in wave after wave of ranges, but none of those breathtaking vistas was comparable to seeing that baby enter the world. I have heard the most delicate and exquisite birdsong and some of the best musicians in the world, but no sounds rivaled hearing the cries of that baby.

I was a latecomer to an experience that is common to most fathers today and common to the human race as a whole. Does anyone ever get used to this? I was totally captured by the wonder of life, the miracle of life, the mystery of life, the glory of life.

…There is so much here—around, below, inside outside. Even with the help of scientists and poets, I can account for very little of it. I notice one thing, then another. I explore the neighborhood. I try one street, then another. I venture across the tracks. I look through telescopes and into microscopes, curious and fascinated by this endless proliferation of unadulterated Isness—color and shape and texture and sound.

After a while I get used to it and quit noticing. I get narrowed down into something small and constricted. Somewhere along the way this exponential expansion of awareness, this wide-eyed looking around, this untaught delight in what is here reverses itself; the world contracts. I am reduced to a life of routine through which I sleepwalk.

But not for long. Someone or something always shows up to wake me up: a fox's sleek beauty, a sharp pain, a pastor's sermon, a fresh metaphor, an artist's vision, a slap in the face, scent from a crushed violet, and overwhelming, birth—the birth of Sadie Lyn. I am again awake, alert, in wonder. How did this happen? And why this? Why anything at all? Why not nothing at all?” (1)

I've noticed that being in love, and loving my children, makes me notice the world more.

I remember when I first came here to Baker City , where my husband had found a job and my children had found friends, and I had found a church where I could use my gifts, and discover more gifts. I was organizing my new desk in my study.

Some of you come and looked out my window and saw 21 power lines, 7 power poles, 3 cyclone fences, 2 vacant buildings, a set of bleachers, a stop sign, and a huge billboard. I saw just the mountains.

Love shapes what we see.

I heard an old description of love versus infatuation. I can't remember whom from. He said that love and infatuation look the same for the first three months. After that, love makes you a better person, more confident, more responsible, and more caring. You can be in love and be jealous, but jealousy isn't proof of your love, and love isn't the cause of the jealousy; actually, jealousy is interfering with the love.

The people in Nazareth wanted Jesus to perform his miracles in their hometown, but he was called to do more than be a local prophet. They were so angry, they wanted to kill him; he wanted to leave, so they drove him out of town. Their rage made them so blind, they didn't see him walk through the midst of them, and leave.

Paul tried to tell the church in Corinth that love is not jealous, or irritable; instead, it is patient and kind. Love makes you know what is important, and what isn't. We normally hear that text as what we should be doing, how we should be more loving, and less annoying.

But Frederick Niedner, a teacher, had a different take on it. He wrote “Of all the prophets ever slain in Israel , America , or anywhere else, God raised this one, this healer of Gentiles and friend of sinners, so we might know that God has forgiven everything, and continues to do so even today. Despite everything, God is patient and kind toward us, not irritable or resentful. God laughs not at our weaknesses, but rejoices over the truth that we are all God's children. For each and for all of us, God bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. That love never ends.” (2)

That love is the love which from our birth over and around us lies. Amen.

We pray this day, O God, for parents, who try so heard to guide their children into paths of peace; who work to teach them the ways of responsibility and fulfillment, and whose children insist on going their own way, making their own mistakes.

Comfort the parents, O God, and fill them with patient strength. We worry about our children, about their illnesses, their accidents, their choices, and their behavior. Teach us to do what we can to keep them safe, and provide a sanctuary for them to grow in faith. When they become young adults, help them find work to do so they can find joy in their work and carrying out adult responsibilities.

We pray for children worried about their parents, about their health, about their marriages, and about their divorces. We pray the children will feel your love sustaining them through each grief and every worry.

For those unable to have children, who long for them, help them find ways to care for young people. For those children whose parents have died, send them people to care for them, that they might know your love.

We pray for wisdom for our president, his cabinet and our intelligence community. We pray for our servicemen and women. Help them to find your purpose for them. We are bold to ask for intellectual humility for all politicians. We pray that your will be done as people prepare to vote this Tuesday, and the results will help further your realm here on earth.

Let us join our voices with Christians across the centuries: Our father…

(1) Peterson, Eugene H. “Birthing,” Christian Century, Jan 6-13, 1999 , p. 27.

(2) Niedner, Frederick “ Home Court Disadvantage,” Christian Century, January 17, 2001 .