Luke 23:44-56
Romans 12:9-18
“Overlooked Stories: Joseph of Arimathea”
Preached Sunday, August 24, 2025
This morning in our Overlooked Stories sermon series, we are finally turning our attention to the New Testament and to Joseph of Arimathea. As we start this sermon, I’d invite you to enter a “Good Friday” state of mind. Good Friday is the Friday before Easter where we remember and recount the crucifixion and death of our Savior, Jesus Christ. The evening before we observed Maundy or Holy Thursday and that service ends with the stripping of the altar - in this church, that service happens in our chapel. And every item is carried out - the Bible, the candles, the cross, the paraments upon the pulpit and altar…It is a quiet and subdued moment to watch our finery, our decorations, or items of great symbolic meaning and comfort to be carried out of the sanctuary…and we are left with a stark, bare altar.
And so when worshippers come to Good Friday service, there is a subdued atmosphere. We know that the Biblical story we will hear that evening will touch our hearts. It may dampen our eyes. We come, stripped bare like the altar, open and vulnerable, to the story of violence against the forces of Love. And yet we come open - ready to hear how even this can be Good News, how even in the darkest moments, even in the very midst of death, there is Love.
And so. This morning is a normal Sunday morning. The altar is beautiful, the cross and Bible upon it, the candles are lit, the paraments hang from the pulpit and lectern. And we came this morning to hear the Gospel - but maybe haven’t prepared ourselves to hear the hard words of our reading from Luke this morning, of Jesus hanging on a cross.
And so, I invite us, in this moment, to pivot. To imagine our altar stripped bare and the lights dimmed. And then reflect that openness in our own souls and minds - to enter into the Good Friday mindset, to reflect on all the power and emotions of that day.
For that is where Joseph of Arimathea enters the story. On that dark, violent day.
Joseph is a member of the Sanhedrin - the council that condemned Jesus, handed him over to the Romans, to be crucified by the State. In the Scriptures, Joseph doesn’t appear at all until after the death of Jesus. And yet, we can use our Biblical imaginations to wonder what role Joseph played up until this point. In the Gospel of John, Joseph, with Nicodemus, the secret follower of Jesus who came to Jesus at night - asking him how one is born again - buried Jesus’s body together. This makes us wonder - was Joseph a secret follower of Jesus too? How open was he in his following of Jesus? Was he curious?
The TV show The Chosen, which is a dramatization of the Gospels, showed the events of Palm Sunday this last season. Yossif, a rabbi, disguised himself as a member of the crowd, to experience the crowds and Jesus himself. And he is obviously moved by the man who is Jesus. As the Sandhedrin gathers to plot against Jesus, Yossif speaks up for Jesus - saying, “don’t you see the good this man is doing?”
This is, of course, Biblical imagination. I wonder if Joseph had encountered Jesus before that bloody day on the cross. I wonder if Joseph spoke up on Jesus’s behalf before his peers. I wonder if, perhaps Joseph wanted to, but as the conversation turned to plotting and talks of violence, was he afraid to stand up for a man such as Jesus? Maybe one that captivated him and he respected - but a rebel rouser none the less. Maybe he kept silent, fearing for his own reputation and even his physical safety.
We don’t know.
What we do know, is that as Jesus hung on the cross, so many of his followers abandoned him. I don’t want to say all of his followers abandoned him, because the women were there, watching, staying with Jesus. But the men, perhaps except John, depending on which Gospel you are reading, they fled. They fled, they lied, they rejected Jesus by their words and actions - forsaking him in his darkest moments, for fear of their own safety, for fear of their own lives. And so, Jesus is left. Broken and bloodied, dead on the cross, with no one there to care for his body, his corpse.
Here is what we do know about Joseph of Arimethea. Whether he had spoken publicly about Jesus or not before. Whether he had publicly aligned himself with Jesus before. He did so now. At perhaps the most dangerous time to do so. He knew that all that was threats and talks about violence against Jesus and his followers - it was no longer just a threat or a possibility, it was very real and very threatening.
And yet, and yet. It is now, here, at the end of this terrifying and horrific violence, that Joseph goes to Pilate, and asks for the body of Jesus. He publicly aligns himself with this man who was just rejected by the Sanhedrin, labeled as an enemy of the Empire, tortured and killed. Why? Why now? I wonder back to his role on the council, on the Sanhedrin. Is he wishing he had spoken up then but didn’t? Is he mad that he did speak up and wasn’t listened to? Is he horrified that this violence, this murder, this state execution…was done in his name? Is he seeking redemption, forgiveness? Was he so moved by Jesus on the cross, that even now, when all hope seems lost, he can’t help but go and be the one to care for his body?
Not only was this act a dangerous one, making himself vulnerable by aligning himself with a man who was just executed…it was also gruesome and messy work.
Our Scripture says, “Then he took it down, wrapped it in a linen cloth, and laid it in a rock-hewn tomb where no one had ever been laid.” “It” is the body of Jesus. The body of Jesus that had been lashed. That had thorns pressed into his head. That had nails in his hands and feet. That had asphyxiated on the cross as it hung. That had a spear pierced his side.
Joseph is the one who takes his body down from the cross.
This is not an act that can be done without getting dirty. The reality of dealing with a fresh corpse is always messy, it is always gruesome. In our day and age, we normally have medical staff who deal with this reality, sparing us from the physical realities of dead bodies. But that was not the case with the body of Jesus. To take Jesus off the cross and carry him to the tomb, to clean and wrap his body…
Joseph did not leave this experience unmarred - emotionally, spiritually, or physically. He had to get close to the reality of Jesus’s deceased body. We sing about being washed in the blood of Jesus - far removed from the horror that is actually having the blood of another human being covering you. Joseph was covered in blood. On his clothes, on his hands, the smell of it in his nostrils. And how heavy is a dead body? Joseph carried that body, his muscles aching, his body straining. There is nothing romantic in this imagery - it was hard, manual, messy labor. I wonder if Joseph had dreams about that day...reliving the horror of it, as he cared for this man’s body, a man who either through Joseph’s inaction or through him not being listened to - was condemned to death.
This was a dangerous and messy act that Joseph did - for Jesus. And there is really only one explanation as to why he would put himself at risk and enter into the full physicality of caring for the body of Jesus - Love. Love for this man and the message he preached. Love for doing what is right. Love of God, love of neighbor, love even of enemy - for perhaps Jesus and Joseph may have been described as enemies at some point. But Joseph was changed by Jesus, by the death of Jesus - even before the resurrection - which Joseph did not know was going to come - Joseph was changed…and so he cared for the corpse, when all others abandoned Jesus, Joseph was the one who stepped into the messy post-Crucifixion reality and cared for the body of the Christ.
We are to be like Joseph.
For many of us here, we are thankfully spared from encountering gruesome and violent death in the way that Joseph did. It seems like such an extreme example as we think of what we are called to do as Christians. We know that what we do to the least of these, we do to Jesus. And thankfully, blessedly, for our lived realities, the least of these do not regularly include the corpses of those who have violent deaths.
Unfortunately, that is not the case for many in our world. As I typed this sermon I got emotional, thinking about those who have had to encounter the messy reality of caring for the bodies of those they love, even carrying them, as Joseph carried Jesus. I thought of those people, those bodies and those who cared for them in life and death - especially those who died at the hands of violence. I thought of Mamie Till, who chose to display her broken son’s body, the body of Emmett Till, following his violent death at the hands of white supremacists. I thought of mothers in war zones - of Ukrainian mothers mourning over their children, victims of bombings, carried out in the fear campaign of Putin who continues to attack civilians and children. I thought of those in Gaza, dealing with the bodies of those who are dying of starvation. I thought of all the injustices and violences in our world that lead to death… and my heart broke. It is breaking anew now.
How we treat these bodies - is how we would treat the broken and bloodied body of Christ. And how we treat these people while they yet draw breath - this is how we would treat Christ himself.
Again - these examples, thankfully, seem extreme and far removed from us. And yet it all boils down to what Paul says in Romans - as Christians we are to be people who rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep.
When we weep with those who weep, we become the God who weeps with us, to one another. When we weep with those who weep, we enter sometimes the darkest, loneliest, and most forsaken parts of someone’s life - and we remind them: you are not alone. I am here. God is here. Love is here.
Even on that darkest and most forsaken day of Good Friday - Joseph of Arimathea was proof that God was still working in the world. That Love was still working in the world. Love that pushes us to the messy realities of caring for one another. Love that makes us weep with those who weep. Love that makes us align ourselves with Jesus - and with the least, least, and forgotten - as Jesus was that day - even at our own risk.
(Deep Breath)
Friends, thank you for taking this open and vulnerable journey with me, reflecting on Good Friday through the eyes and experience of Joseph of Arimathea. As we leave this place today, may we hold on to this vulnerable openness, allowing our hearts and souls to be open to all we meet in this world, rejoicing with those who rejoice - and yes, weeping with those who weep.
May it be so, Amen.
Monday, August 25, 2025
Monday, August 18, 2025
"Overlooked Stories: Jonah" a sermon on Jonah 3:1-10
Jonah 3:1-10
“Overlooked Stories: Jonah”
Preached August 17, 2025
Today, you might be surprised that I am including Jonah in our “Overlooked Stories” sermon series. Jonah? Overlooked? It’s one of the first Bible stories we learn in Sunday School. There is not a single children’s Bible that doesn’t include this story. The book of Jonah is a beloved story. Running away, getting swallowed by a whale - the story delights every child. And while children’s books and movies depict the awe-inspiring, fantastic imagery of a man living inside a fish…There is more to this story. We think we know the story of Jonah and the “whale” and so the rest of this story is often overlooked. I did not know the whole story of Jonah until I read it in seminary!
“Overlooked Stories: Jonah”
Preached August 17, 2025
Today, you might be surprised that I am including Jonah in our “Overlooked Stories” sermon series. Jonah? Overlooked? It’s one of the first Bible stories we learn in Sunday School. There is not a single children’s Bible that doesn’t include this story. The book of Jonah is a beloved story. Running away, getting swallowed by a whale - the story delights every child. And while children’s books and movies depict the awe-inspiring, fantastic imagery of a man living inside a fish…There is more to this story. We think we know the story of Jonah and the “whale” and so the rest of this story is often overlooked. I did not know the whole story of Jonah until I read it in seminary!
And so today we are going to go beyond Jonah running away and being thrown overboard and the big fish that swallowed him…because there is more to this story that is often overlooked.
We must remember that God was not asking Jonah to do something easy. God called Jonah to go and preach repentance to the people in the city of Nineveh. Now Nineveh was the capital of Assyria. The Assyrians were known as aggressive, ruthless conquerors. Jonah hated the Ninevites. He may even have been afraid of them - and probably for good reason. As so he ran… I think a lot of people think Jonah ran because he was afraid of public speaking or that he didn’t want to be a preacher or a prophet…a lot of pastors, especially second career pastors, use the story of Jonah to mirror their call stories. They ran from their call until they couldn’t anymore. But Jonah, Jonah actually ran from what God was asking him to do because he HATED the Ninevites. “Preach repentance to THOSE people? I’d rather run away to the opposite ends of the earth.”
It’s not surprising that Jonah did not want to take the message to Nineveh. We often forget that these Biblical figures are also human. And it is very human to hate. To fear. To run. Every human, somewhere inside of them, has hate. Sometimes that hate is unconscious, learned but not realized, beneath the surface. Sometimes that hate bubbles to the front and explodes in our actions and words. Sometimes we know it’s there and do our best to quietly ignore it. Other times we see it, recognize it, ask God for forgiveness and then work towards repentance. But in whatever form hate dwells inside of us, it is there. Every group hates something or someone. Sometimes our hate or dislike for a person can bind us together more than shared interests or things we like.
This hate is a part of our fallen human nature and can easily take a hold within us. As Christians we know we shouldn’t hate people. We don’t even like to use the word hate because it seems too harsh. And, at the same time, there might be people who, if they fell off the face of the earth? Well, we might just think, “good riddance” or even “thank GOD.”
Not only that - sometimes we, as a culture, hate people so much that we celebrate their deaths or misfortunes. In recent history I can remember people shooting off fireworks to celebrate the death of a terrorist. He was so hated, that for many, his death was worth celebrating. I’ve also seen people celebrating diseases and awful diagnoses for politicians they don’t like. I’ve seen people online giving death threats just because they don’t like a pop star. Hate can give people a heck of a high.
And this is an apt comparison to the story of Jonah, because in today’s world, asking Jonah to go to Nineveh might be like asking one of us to go to the headquarters of Hamas or the KKK or the Proud Boys or other terrorist groups. Groups that, generally, we hate and we fear, the two emotions tied up in each other. And so, Jonah ran away. Heck, I would too.
And our hate isn’t just for enemies of state, far away. In this day and age I do not think anyone really needs convincing that hate is a part of humanity. All we have to do is turn on the news or scroll down our facebook feeds, or look into our own hearts.
Not only can hate rot our souls from the inside out but it can overflow in violence. I want to say as Christians this hate inside us won’t lead to violence or destruction, but it will. There is a reason there is a phrase that is often used in atheist of post-Christian spaces, “There is no hate like Christian love.” The story of Jonah is satire that is meant to hold a mirror to our own souls, our own hate, our own half-hearted following of God. The story of Jonah is a precursor of what Jesus preaches, “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven, for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.”
Let’s turn our attention back to this sharp satirical story of Jonah interacting with his enemies, rather begrudgingly, following God’s word. At this point Jonah received the call from God to go preach to Ninevites, tried to run away to the opposite side of the world, got thrown overboard, swallowed by a giant fish, and spat out. Up until this point, we know the story. So let’s see what happens when he arrives in Ninevah:
“Now Nineveh was an exceedingly large city, a three days’ walk across. Jonah began to go into the city, going a day’s walk. And he cried out, ‘Forty days more, and Nineveh shall be overthrown!’” Now, let’s look at this. It was a three days walk to go through the whole city of Nineveh. Jonah went a third of the way across the city. This isn’t half-heartedly following God - this is one-third heartedly! After living inside a fish for 3 days and 3 nights, you’d think Jonah would have gotten his act together by now. But Jonah, Jonah didn’t even bother to go to the center of the city before he cried out, “Forty days more, and Nineveh shall be overthrown!” In English, 8 words. In Hebrew, 5. Can you imagine if I got up here every Sunday and the whole message consisted of 5 words - and five words that fell short of the full message that I wanted to convey? For some reason, I have a feeling that wouldn’t go over well - despite being able to beat the Baptists to lunch.
Jonah was following God’s call. He went to Nineveh, didn’t he? He kind of told them to repent, didn’t he? Well, yeah. Kind of. He was only half-heartedly prophesying. He was only half-heartedly following God’s call because Jonah didn’t want the Ninevites to repent! His hate and fear of them got in the way of him full-heartedly prophesying and preaching and following God.
Like Jonah, our hate can keep us from full-hearted discipleship. When we don’t address the hate and sin inside of us, when we aren’t calling it by name and actively working against it, it can act as a barrier for fully living out God’s commands to love our neighbor and follow Jesus.
I’m going to take a minute and look at myself. Where am I only serving God half-heartedly? Who do I hate? Who am I afraid of? I want you to know that I am airing out and working out my problems, not accusing anyone in this congregation or beyond. Despite living most of my life not wanting to recognize it, I know there is hate and fear inside of me and the more I examine it, I realize how much I stumble over it.
Sometimes I am afraid to address race and racism and the tricky and complicated feelings it brings up and realizing how I am complicit in it. Often I am afraid of addressing the hate disguised as Christian Nationalism or any -ism, really, fearing I will upset someone. Sometimes, maybe, I don’t really feel comfortable sitting by and having a conversation with those who are homeless. My first instinct is to be the one in the kitchen serving dinner rather than joining in fellowship. And sometimes I feel like there are *those* people that are just so far gone, so full of hate themselves, that they’re not worth my time - you know, the ones who watch the news channel that you hate. Maybe sometimes I’d really only rather serve God monetarily not by my actions or sometimes just by my actions and not by my money...These are some of the issues and things inside of me that I am dealing with that keep me from wholeheartedly following God. Since I have reflected openly about this question myself, I invite you to consider, inwardly: What is keeping you from fully serving God?
As we ponder that question, I am going to switch gears for a minute and share some good news this morning: Despite Jonah falling short, despite his hate and his half-hearted attempts at following God, God still used this flawed human being to bring about repentance. God worked in spite of, with, and through Jonah. Likewise, our hate and fear and sin, though they often act as stumbling blocks, don’t disqualify us from doing God’s work. And at the same time, a challenge: God wants us to serve full-heartedly.
Take, for example, the full-hearted repentance of the King of Nineveh. Not only does he repent but he calls for the whole city - even the animals - to repent, to fast, to cover themselves in sackcloth and ashes. The Ninevites REPENT. They repent SO MUCH that they even cover their animals in sackcloth and ashes. This is in direct contrast to Jonah’s half-hearted attempts. The “bad guys,” the enemies, the Ninevites - they throw themselves into full-hearted, over the top, repentance. This is another sign that this story is satire by the way, livestock do not need to repent. But they totally cover their bases - even the animals repent.
But Jonah, that hate inside him is still going strong, he barely followed what God was asking of him and now he is hoping that they didn’t listen to his five words that he said only one-third of the way into the city and that God will smite them. Jonah, in fact, throws a tantrum to God. The Scripture says:
“But this was very displeasing to Jonah, and he became angry. He prayed to the Lord and said, ‘O Lord! Is not this what I said while I was still in my own country? That is why I fled to Tarshish at the beginning, for I knew that you are a gracious and merciful God, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love, and relenting from punishment. And now, O Lord, please take my life from me, for it is better for me to die than to live.’ And the Lord said, ‘Is it right for you to be angry?’ Then Jonah went out of the city and sat down east of the city and made a booth for himself there. He sat under it in the shade, waiting to see what would become of the city.”
But God, in God’s kindness, doesn’t leave Jonah to stew in his hate. God makes a little plant to give Jonah shelter and Jonah was happy about the bush. But the next day, God sent a worm to eat the plant. I am going to read again from the book of Jonah:
“But when dawn came up the next day, God appointed a worm that attacked the bush, so that it withered. When the sun rose, God prepared a sultry east wind, and the sun beat down on the head of Jonah so that he was faint and asked that he might die. He said, ‘It is better for me to die than to live.’
But God said to Jonah, ‘Is it right for you to be angry about the bush?’ And he said, ‘Yes, angry enough to die.’” Hold, on, I gotta interrupt here to just, emphasize this ridiculousness. ANGRY ENOUGH ABOUT A BUSH TO DIE! Okay, back to Scripture, “Then the Lord said, ‘You are concerned about the bush, for which you did not labor and which you did not grow; it came into being in a night and perished in a night. And should I not be concerned about Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not know their right hand from their left and also many animals?’”
Again - satire. Jonah cared more about a BUSH than the fate of all the people, including children and innocents, in Nineveh. He cared more about a plant than a hundred and twenty thousand people. Just because he hated those people - they were the enemy.
It is here that we, once again, are called to hold the mirror up to ourselves. Who are we hating? And perhaps, our hate is as ridiculous as wanting to die because a plant got eaten by a worm and yet not caring about the fate of thousands of people.
So we’ve already said there is Good News here, God can work good through us even as we still struggle with the sin of hate. And here is some more Good News, in the words of Jonah himself: “for I knew that you are a gracious and merciful God, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love, and relenting from punishment.”
In other words, hear this Good News: While we are often afraid, while we often have hate inside of us, there is hope -- God does not hate ANY. ONE. Thank God for that!
God loves all of God’s creation. God loves you and God loves me, even with all of our faults. God loves you regardless of your immigration status. God loves you regardless of your gender or sexual identity. God loves you regardless of your race and ethnicity. God loves you regardless of your employment status and socioeconomic status. God loves you whether you're single or married, kids or no kids. Simply put, God loves you. Because isn’t that the whole point? That God loves us so much that God would send us Jesus? To live and breathe and die with and for us? No one - not even our enemies and not even ourselves with all our faults - no one is outside the love of God made manifest in Jesus Christ. Trust me, it’s hard to say this, as it would have been very hard for Jonah to say that God loved the people of Nineveh - even those we love to hate or even hate to hate...God loves them too.
And because God loves us and them, yes, even our enemies, so unconditionally - we too are called to love like God loves. Regardless. Just love.
This theme of God’s love makes itself known over and over in Scripture. Love even for the enemy.
And so, grounded in the knowledge of God’s love and hope, how can we address the hate and sin in this world, in our community, inside of us? How can we work against it? How can we move beyond the things that separate us from each other and from God? The things that keep us from wholeheartedly following God? I don’t have the answers for you today - but Jonah holding up a mirror to reflect on the ways, the ridiculous ways, we get stuck on hate is a start. And so I want to challenge each of us to consider these things: to examine ourselves, to begin to pray for our enemies and the eradication of hate in our hearts and the world. I pray that each of us can reject hate so that we can move towards love - love that allows us to fully follow God, and fully love like God loves.
Amen.
We must remember that God was not asking Jonah to do something easy. God called Jonah to go and preach repentance to the people in the city of Nineveh. Now Nineveh was the capital of Assyria. The Assyrians were known as aggressive, ruthless conquerors. Jonah hated the Ninevites. He may even have been afraid of them - and probably for good reason. As so he ran… I think a lot of people think Jonah ran because he was afraid of public speaking or that he didn’t want to be a preacher or a prophet…a lot of pastors, especially second career pastors, use the story of Jonah to mirror their call stories. They ran from their call until they couldn’t anymore. But Jonah, Jonah actually ran from what God was asking him to do because he HATED the Ninevites. “Preach repentance to THOSE people? I’d rather run away to the opposite ends of the earth.”
It’s not surprising that Jonah did not want to take the message to Nineveh. We often forget that these Biblical figures are also human. And it is very human to hate. To fear. To run. Every human, somewhere inside of them, has hate. Sometimes that hate is unconscious, learned but not realized, beneath the surface. Sometimes that hate bubbles to the front and explodes in our actions and words. Sometimes we know it’s there and do our best to quietly ignore it. Other times we see it, recognize it, ask God for forgiveness and then work towards repentance. But in whatever form hate dwells inside of us, it is there. Every group hates something or someone. Sometimes our hate or dislike for a person can bind us together more than shared interests or things we like.
This hate is a part of our fallen human nature and can easily take a hold within us. As Christians we know we shouldn’t hate people. We don’t even like to use the word hate because it seems too harsh. And, at the same time, there might be people who, if they fell off the face of the earth? Well, we might just think, “good riddance” or even “thank GOD.”
Not only that - sometimes we, as a culture, hate people so much that we celebrate their deaths or misfortunes. In recent history I can remember people shooting off fireworks to celebrate the death of a terrorist. He was so hated, that for many, his death was worth celebrating. I’ve also seen people celebrating diseases and awful diagnoses for politicians they don’t like. I’ve seen people online giving death threats just because they don’t like a pop star. Hate can give people a heck of a high.
And this is an apt comparison to the story of Jonah, because in today’s world, asking Jonah to go to Nineveh might be like asking one of us to go to the headquarters of Hamas or the KKK or the Proud Boys or other terrorist groups. Groups that, generally, we hate and we fear, the two emotions tied up in each other. And so, Jonah ran away. Heck, I would too.
And our hate isn’t just for enemies of state, far away. In this day and age I do not think anyone really needs convincing that hate is a part of humanity. All we have to do is turn on the news or scroll down our facebook feeds, or look into our own hearts.
Not only can hate rot our souls from the inside out but it can overflow in violence. I want to say as Christians this hate inside us won’t lead to violence or destruction, but it will. There is a reason there is a phrase that is often used in atheist of post-Christian spaces, “There is no hate like Christian love.” The story of Jonah is satire that is meant to hold a mirror to our own souls, our own hate, our own half-hearted following of God. The story of Jonah is a precursor of what Jesus preaches, “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven, for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.”
Let’s turn our attention back to this sharp satirical story of Jonah interacting with his enemies, rather begrudgingly, following God’s word. At this point Jonah received the call from God to go preach to Ninevites, tried to run away to the opposite side of the world, got thrown overboard, swallowed by a giant fish, and spat out. Up until this point, we know the story. So let’s see what happens when he arrives in Ninevah:
“Now Nineveh was an exceedingly large city, a three days’ walk across. Jonah began to go into the city, going a day’s walk. And he cried out, ‘Forty days more, and Nineveh shall be overthrown!’” Now, let’s look at this. It was a three days walk to go through the whole city of Nineveh. Jonah went a third of the way across the city. This isn’t half-heartedly following God - this is one-third heartedly! After living inside a fish for 3 days and 3 nights, you’d think Jonah would have gotten his act together by now. But Jonah, Jonah didn’t even bother to go to the center of the city before he cried out, “Forty days more, and Nineveh shall be overthrown!” In English, 8 words. In Hebrew, 5. Can you imagine if I got up here every Sunday and the whole message consisted of 5 words - and five words that fell short of the full message that I wanted to convey? For some reason, I have a feeling that wouldn’t go over well - despite being able to beat the Baptists to lunch.
Jonah was following God’s call. He went to Nineveh, didn’t he? He kind of told them to repent, didn’t he? Well, yeah. Kind of. He was only half-heartedly prophesying. He was only half-heartedly following God’s call because Jonah didn’t want the Ninevites to repent! His hate and fear of them got in the way of him full-heartedly prophesying and preaching and following God.
Like Jonah, our hate can keep us from full-hearted discipleship. When we don’t address the hate and sin inside of us, when we aren’t calling it by name and actively working against it, it can act as a barrier for fully living out God’s commands to love our neighbor and follow Jesus.
I’m going to take a minute and look at myself. Where am I only serving God half-heartedly? Who do I hate? Who am I afraid of? I want you to know that I am airing out and working out my problems, not accusing anyone in this congregation or beyond. Despite living most of my life not wanting to recognize it, I know there is hate and fear inside of me and the more I examine it, I realize how much I stumble over it.
Sometimes I am afraid to address race and racism and the tricky and complicated feelings it brings up and realizing how I am complicit in it. Often I am afraid of addressing the hate disguised as Christian Nationalism or any -ism, really, fearing I will upset someone. Sometimes, maybe, I don’t really feel comfortable sitting by and having a conversation with those who are homeless. My first instinct is to be the one in the kitchen serving dinner rather than joining in fellowship. And sometimes I feel like there are *those* people that are just so far gone, so full of hate themselves, that they’re not worth my time - you know, the ones who watch the news channel that you hate. Maybe sometimes I’d really only rather serve God monetarily not by my actions or sometimes just by my actions and not by my money...These are some of the issues and things inside of me that I am dealing with that keep me from wholeheartedly following God. Since I have reflected openly about this question myself, I invite you to consider, inwardly: What is keeping you from fully serving God?
As we ponder that question, I am going to switch gears for a minute and share some good news this morning: Despite Jonah falling short, despite his hate and his half-hearted attempts at following God, God still used this flawed human being to bring about repentance. God worked in spite of, with, and through Jonah. Likewise, our hate and fear and sin, though they often act as stumbling blocks, don’t disqualify us from doing God’s work. And at the same time, a challenge: God wants us to serve full-heartedly.
Take, for example, the full-hearted repentance of the King of Nineveh. Not only does he repent but he calls for the whole city - even the animals - to repent, to fast, to cover themselves in sackcloth and ashes. The Ninevites REPENT. They repent SO MUCH that they even cover their animals in sackcloth and ashes. This is in direct contrast to Jonah’s half-hearted attempts. The “bad guys,” the enemies, the Ninevites - they throw themselves into full-hearted, over the top, repentance. This is another sign that this story is satire by the way, livestock do not need to repent. But they totally cover their bases - even the animals repent.
But Jonah, that hate inside him is still going strong, he barely followed what God was asking of him and now he is hoping that they didn’t listen to his five words that he said only one-third of the way into the city and that God will smite them. Jonah, in fact, throws a tantrum to God. The Scripture says:
“But this was very displeasing to Jonah, and he became angry. He prayed to the Lord and said, ‘O Lord! Is not this what I said while I was still in my own country? That is why I fled to Tarshish at the beginning, for I knew that you are a gracious and merciful God, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love, and relenting from punishment. And now, O Lord, please take my life from me, for it is better for me to die than to live.’ And the Lord said, ‘Is it right for you to be angry?’ Then Jonah went out of the city and sat down east of the city and made a booth for himself there. He sat under it in the shade, waiting to see what would become of the city.”
But God, in God’s kindness, doesn’t leave Jonah to stew in his hate. God makes a little plant to give Jonah shelter and Jonah was happy about the bush. But the next day, God sent a worm to eat the plant. I am going to read again from the book of Jonah:
“But when dawn came up the next day, God appointed a worm that attacked the bush, so that it withered. When the sun rose, God prepared a sultry east wind, and the sun beat down on the head of Jonah so that he was faint and asked that he might die. He said, ‘It is better for me to die than to live.’
But God said to Jonah, ‘Is it right for you to be angry about the bush?’ And he said, ‘Yes, angry enough to die.’” Hold, on, I gotta interrupt here to just, emphasize this ridiculousness. ANGRY ENOUGH ABOUT A BUSH TO DIE! Okay, back to Scripture, “Then the Lord said, ‘You are concerned about the bush, for which you did not labor and which you did not grow; it came into being in a night and perished in a night. And should I not be concerned about Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not know their right hand from their left and also many animals?’”
Again - satire. Jonah cared more about a BUSH than the fate of all the people, including children and innocents, in Nineveh. He cared more about a plant than a hundred and twenty thousand people. Just because he hated those people - they were the enemy.
It is here that we, once again, are called to hold the mirror up to ourselves. Who are we hating? And perhaps, our hate is as ridiculous as wanting to die because a plant got eaten by a worm and yet not caring about the fate of thousands of people.
So we’ve already said there is Good News here, God can work good through us even as we still struggle with the sin of hate. And here is some more Good News, in the words of Jonah himself: “for I knew that you are a gracious and merciful God, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love, and relenting from punishment.”
In other words, hear this Good News: While we are often afraid, while we often have hate inside of us, there is hope -- God does not hate ANY. ONE. Thank God for that!
God loves all of God’s creation. God loves you and God loves me, even with all of our faults. God loves you regardless of your immigration status. God loves you regardless of your gender or sexual identity. God loves you regardless of your race and ethnicity. God loves you regardless of your employment status and socioeconomic status. God loves you whether you're single or married, kids or no kids. Simply put, God loves you. Because isn’t that the whole point? That God loves us so much that God would send us Jesus? To live and breathe and die with and for us? No one - not even our enemies and not even ourselves with all our faults - no one is outside the love of God made manifest in Jesus Christ. Trust me, it’s hard to say this, as it would have been very hard for Jonah to say that God loved the people of Nineveh - even those we love to hate or even hate to hate...God loves them too.
And because God loves us and them, yes, even our enemies, so unconditionally - we too are called to love like God loves. Regardless. Just love.
This theme of God’s love makes itself known over and over in Scripture. Love even for the enemy.
And so, grounded in the knowledge of God’s love and hope, how can we address the hate and sin in this world, in our community, inside of us? How can we work against it? How can we move beyond the things that separate us from each other and from God? The things that keep us from wholeheartedly following God? I don’t have the answers for you today - but Jonah holding up a mirror to reflect on the ways, the ridiculous ways, we get stuck on hate is a start. And so I want to challenge each of us to consider these things: to examine ourselves, to begin to pray for our enemies and the eradication of hate in our hearts and the world. I pray that each of us can reject hate so that we can move towards love - love that allows us to fully follow God, and fully love like God loves.
Amen.
Tuesday, August 12, 2025
"Overlooked Stories: Queen Vashti" a sermon on Esther 1:1-12
Esther 1:1-12
“Overlooked Stories: Queen Vashti”
Preached Sunday, August 10, 2025
“Overlooked Stories: Queen Vashti”
Preached Sunday, August 10, 2025
CONTENT WARNING: This sermon discusses the Biblical story of the rape of Tamar.
We are continuing our “Overlooked Stories” sermon series this morning with Queen Vashti. This week I told someone I was preaching on Queen Vashti and she said, “Who?” And I said, “exactly.” No, I actually said, “The woman who was deposed as queen so Esther became queen.” And she went, “ohhhhh.”
Now, we heard part of her story today in the Scripture but it is not all of it, so allow me to share more. I, once again this week, gave myself a Scripture with many hard names to pronounce. Even more so than last week…so now I’m going to try and tell you the version without all the hard names.
Once there was a king. A very, very rich and powerful king. This very rich and very powerful king threw an extremely large banquet to show off his wealth and power. The banquet was not just for those in his inner circle but whole armies, the elite ruling class, the governors who ruled under his name - this banquet hall was overflowing with men - rich and powerful men - of which he was the most rich and powerful. And this king wasn’t just in it for a good time - he was in it for a long time - what a better way to show off his wealth and power. He could host a banquet, overflowing with food and alcohol, lots of alcohol, for 180 days.
And THEN, once those 180 days were over, he threw another party! Not just for powerful men but all men - and this party was also extremely lavish, over the top, ornate, a display of power, once again lots of alcohol - I am just going to quote the Scripture here: “Drinks were served in golden goblets, goblets of different kinds, and the royal wine was lavished according to the bounty of the king. Drinking was by ordinance without restraint, for the king had given orders to all the officials of his palace to do as each one desired.” In other words…everyone was drunk and was given full permission by the king to do whatever they wanted without consequences. What could possibly go wrong? …but really, use your imagination, I am sure it wasn’t a very wholesome time.
And then there is this line that Queen Vashti, the wife of this very rich and powerful king, also threw a banquet for the women.
On the 7th day of this opulent party, when the king was, well, drunk - he commanded his wife be brought before this raucous seven day party full of drunk men who were given permission to do whatever they wanted. He wanted to show his queen off. Now, there are some interpretations that the King wanted her to not only come wearing her crown - but only her crown. Whether this is the case or not, it would seem that the King viewed his beautiful queen as yet another thing to be put on display to show his wealth and power. He showed off his ability to make the wine overflow, marble pillars, mosaics made with colorful stones and gems… why would he not also show off his beautiful wife to brag what a rich, powerful and “blessed” man he was.
Queen Vashti, however, said “No.” And the king was irate and burned with rage.
We can imagine that this rich and powerful king was not used to anyone telling him no. And certainly no one told him no for the last 187 days as he feasted and got drunk. But Vashti…Vashti said no. We don’t know the reason she said no. The text doesn’t tell us. Perhaps she knew she would not be safe in such a crowd of men. Perhaps she did not want to be humiliated and degraded in such a way. Perhaps she was just tired of her husband treating her as another fine possession, made a thing, treated as less than a full person.
We should not downplay the courage it took Vashti to say “no” in this scenario. The “Me Too” movement has highlighted how even in our modern day, power imbalances make it hard, if not impossible, for women to say “no” to men who have power over them - causing them to endure harassment and abuse.
And while Vashti was a queen - she was also a woman - and did not have the power to say no without consequences. The angry king consulted his advisors and they told him that Queen Vashti had committed an unforgivable and dangerous act. By her saying no to him, she would inspire other women to say no to their husbands, and perhaps even whole regions to say no to the king - her simple act could cause rebellions and was a threat to the king’s power. (To which I say…really?) She was to be banished - although some rabbinic traditions guess that she was actually executed - and another queen was to take her place.
It is at this point that the story may get more familiar to our ears. The king holds a beauty pageant of sorts, causing Esther to become queen and through her acts, she stops the genocide of the Jewish people, she is told by her cousin and father figure Mordecai: “For if you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father’s family will perish. Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this.”
But first, let’s look back to poor Queen Vashti. By all measures that I use, Queen Vashti did the right thing in saying no to the king, her husband. She protected her dignity and safety. She refused to be paraded around as an object - especially in front of many drunk men. And while she may have done the “right” thing - she paid dearly for it.
And that, in essence, is the takeaway from this sermon today. The thesis, if you will: this world is unfair and filled with darkness, and as such, doing the right thing isn’t always easy and can come with consequences - but take heart, for God will always be with you.
This thesis, if you will, is in direct opposition to the popular heresy known as the prosperity Gospel that espouses that if people just simply do the right things, follow God, be faithful, pray right, etc, etc - then God will reward those people with health, wealth, and general well-being and happiness.
To preachers who preach this message I simply want to say: the disciples would like a word. The martyrs would like a word. Queen Vashti would like a word.
Because it’s actually the opposite. Faithfully following God and doing the right thing - which includes standing up to injustice and saying no to rich and powerful people who perpetuate injustice, like the king in our Scripture today - can have consequences. It can hurt our reputations, put us at odds with people in power, and have adverse effects - like Vashti being banished.
The fact of the matter is, we live in a world where there is darkness. There are forces - and people - in our world who value profits over people, often profits at the literal expense of people - including their lives; who value being right over relationships; who value power over mutual care and interdependence. Following God means always choosing love - love over profit, love over being right, love over independence. These are not popular choices in our world. But take heart - for God is always with us. And as our Gospel reading from John said this morning, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it.”
And yet, in the midst of the darkness of this world, we may ask ourselves, “Where is God in all this?” That’s actually a very appropriate question to ask when discussing Queen Vashti and the book of Esther as a whole. The book of Esther is kind of famous for being the only book in the Bible where God is not specifically mentioned.
Queen Vashti is not the main character in this story. She is used as a plot device to show what kind of man this king was - one who valued wealth over people, who listened to his advisors, who treated his wife as a thing rather than a person - and so she is cast out and enter Esther, a woman of Jewish descent, although she is to keep that a secret, and it is through her coming before the King, and pleading her case, something that well could have gotten her cast out like Vashti - that she stops a genocide of Jewish people that the king’s advisors were telling him to carry out.
But God - God is never mentioned specifically. To the astute reader, however, God is all over this story. God is with Esther and she assumed her position. God is with Esther as she pleads her case before the King. God is with Esther when the Jewish people are saved. God raised Esther up “for such a time as this” to do the right thing and save God’s people. And...God was also with Vashti. God was not just using Vashti as a plot device to bring Esther onto the scene. God was with Vashti when she claimed her courage, God was with Vashti when she said no. God was with Vashti, even as she was banished. For God is with all of us at all times.
The Bible is full of what we call “texts of terror.” The Bible depicts child sacrifice, rape, murder, genocide, and a plethora of violent acts. It is a good reminder that although something is Biblical, it does not make it Christlike. Our Bible is full of absolutely horrid things. I have preached on many of these horrid things before - but at a domestic violence awareness themed sermon that comes with many trigger warnings. I am not prepared to dive into all these texts today. But I will, briefly share, one story that has always stuck with me when asking the question, “Where is God in all this darkness, evil, and violence?”
In 2 Samuel, Tamar, the daughter of David, is raped by her half-brother, Amnon. Unfortunately, many people conspired to make this act of violence happen. And Tamar pleaded with her brother, begging to be spared from this violence. But she was ignored and this horrendous act of violence and evil was done against her.
Where in the world was God in the midst of all this?
God was in her no.
God was in her voice and agency when she said no. When she said no to protect herself. When she protected herself with her voice.
God was ignored by the perpetrators of violence in this text, we all have free will and can all ignore what God desires and choose evil - but that does not change the fact that God was with Tamar in her powerful no.
God was with Tamar in her weeping and screaming and rending of clothes that happened after.
God is with and in every voice that says no to violence. God is with and in every person who is harmed and weeps at injustice. God is saying no to violence with them. God is weeping at injustice with them.
While the story of Queen Vashti is not as explicitly violent as the story of Tamar - God was still with her in her courageous no. And in her banishment. God always sides with the outcast, the oppressed, the trodden on, the forgotten.
For some people, this may not sound like the Good News of the Gospel. What do you mean that horrible, violent acts still happen to people? Or could happen to me? What do you mean that my faith isn’t a magical amulet that assures me protection against bad things? And yet. I have found, for many, especially for survivors of acts of violence or those who are oppressed, there is nothing more Good than this Good News: God is on your side. God is in your “no” as you say no to the violence and hate in this world. God weeps with you when you weep. God does not want this for you or for anyone. God wants the day when all are treated as the beloved children of God that we were all created to be. The day when it is, on earth as it is in heaven…and until that day. God is with you. God is with them. God is with us. Take heart. No matter what darkness you have walked through, are walking through, or will walk through - you are never alone. God is with you.
The story of Queen Vashti - and of Esther - who was raised up to “such a time as this,” reminds me of a favorite quote from The Lord of the Rings. In the book this conversation happens between Frodo and Gandalf, in the movie it’s Pippin. But in the book there is a conversation that goes like this:
“I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo.
"So do I," said Gandalf, "and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”
For those who have lived to see dark times, in their lives and in the world, we wish these dark times had never come to us. And yet…we have to choose what to do with the time given to us.
My prayer and hope for us as we encounter dark times is this:
May we have courage.
Courage to stand up like Queen Vashti and Tamar and all in Scripture and our world who say, “No” to injustice and violence.
May we have assurance of God’s presence with us in all and every circumstance.
May all who are downtrodden, oppressed, cast out - may they, through us sharing God’s love and care with them, know that God is with them.
May we be faithful disciples of Christ who were chosen for such a time as this - to shine light in the darkness.
May it be so. Amen.
We are continuing our “Overlooked Stories” sermon series this morning with Queen Vashti. This week I told someone I was preaching on Queen Vashti and she said, “Who?” And I said, “exactly.” No, I actually said, “The woman who was deposed as queen so Esther became queen.” And she went, “ohhhhh.”
Now, we heard part of her story today in the Scripture but it is not all of it, so allow me to share more. I, once again this week, gave myself a Scripture with many hard names to pronounce. Even more so than last week…so now I’m going to try and tell you the version without all the hard names.
Once there was a king. A very, very rich and powerful king. This very rich and very powerful king threw an extremely large banquet to show off his wealth and power. The banquet was not just for those in his inner circle but whole armies, the elite ruling class, the governors who ruled under his name - this banquet hall was overflowing with men - rich and powerful men - of which he was the most rich and powerful. And this king wasn’t just in it for a good time - he was in it for a long time - what a better way to show off his wealth and power. He could host a banquet, overflowing with food and alcohol, lots of alcohol, for 180 days.
And THEN, once those 180 days were over, he threw another party! Not just for powerful men but all men - and this party was also extremely lavish, over the top, ornate, a display of power, once again lots of alcohol - I am just going to quote the Scripture here: “Drinks were served in golden goblets, goblets of different kinds, and the royal wine was lavished according to the bounty of the king. Drinking was by ordinance without restraint, for the king had given orders to all the officials of his palace to do as each one desired.” In other words…everyone was drunk and was given full permission by the king to do whatever they wanted without consequences. What could possibly go wrong? …but really, use your imagination, I am sure it wasn’t a very wholesome time.
And then there is this line that Queen Vashti, the wife of this very rich and powerful king, also threw a banquet for the women.
On the 7th day of this opulent party, when the king was, well, drunk - he commanded his wife be brought before this raucous seven day party full of drunk men who were given permission to do whatever they wanted. He wanted to show his queen off. Now, there are some interpretations that the King wanted her to not only come wearing her crown - but only her crown. Whether this is the case or not, it would seem that the King viewed his beautiful queen as yet another thing to be put on display to show his wealth and power. He showed off his ability to make the wine overflow, marble pillars, mosaics made with colorful stones and gems… why would he not also show off his beautiful wife to brag what a rich, powerful and “blessed” man he was.
Queen Vashti, however, said “No.” And the king was irate and burned with rage.
We can imagine that this rich and powerful king was not used to anyone telling him no. And certainly no one told him no for the last 187 days as he feasted and got drunk. But Vashti…Vashti said no. We don’t know the reason she said no. The text doesn’t tell us. Perhaps she knew she would not be safe in such a crowd of men. Perhaps she did not want to be humiliated and degraded in such a way. Perhaps she was just tired of her husband treating her as another fine possession, made a thing, treated as less than a full person.
We should not downplay the courage it took Vashti to say “no” in this scenario. The “Me Too” movement has highlighted how even in our modern day, power imbalances make it hard, if not impossible, for women to say “no” to men who have power over them - causing them to endure harassment and abuse.
And while Vashti was a queen - she was also a woman - and did not have the power to say no without consequences. The angry king consulted his advisors and they told him that Queen Vashti had committed an unforgivable and dangerous act. By her saying no to him, she would inspire other women to say no to their husbands, and perhaps even whole regions to say no to the king - her simple act could cause rebellions and was a threat to the king’s power. (To which I say…really?) She was to be banished - although some rabbinic traditions guess that she was actually executed - and another queen was to take her place.
It is at this point that the story may get more familiar to our ears. The king holds a beauty pageant of sorts, causing Esther to become queen and through her acts, she stops the genocide of the Jewish people, she is told by her cousin and father figure Mordecai: “For if you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father’s family will perish. Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this.”
But first, let’s look back to poor Queen Vashti. By all measures that I use, Queen Vashti did the right thing in saying no to the king, her husband. She protected her dignity and safety. She refused to be paraded around as an object - especially in front of many drunk men. And while she may have done the “right” thing - she paid dearly for it.
And that, in essence, is the takeaway from this sermon today. The thesis, if you will: this world is unfair and filled with darkness, and as such, doing the right thing isn’t always easy and can come with consequences - but take heart, for God will always be with you.
This thesis, if you will, is in direct opposition to the popular heresy known as the prosperity Gospel that espouses that if people just simply do the right things, follow God, be faithful, pray right, etc, etc - then God will reward those people with health, wealth, and general well-being and happiness.
To preachers who preach this message I simply want to say: the disciples would like a word. The martyrs would like a word. Queen Vashti would like a word.
Because it’s actually the opposite. Faithfully following God and doing the right thing - which includes standing up to injustice and saying no to rich and powerful people who perpetuate injustice, like the king in our Scripture today - can have consequences. It can hurt our reputations, put us at odds with people in power, and have adverse effects - like Vashti being banished.
The fact of the matter is, we live in a world where there is darkness. There are forces - and people - in our world who value profits over people, often profits at the literal expense of people - including their lives; who value being right over relationships; who value power over mutual care and interdependence. Following God means always choosing love - love over profit, love over being right, love over independence. These are not popular choices in our world. But take heart - for God is always with us. And as our Gospel reading from John said this morning, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it.”
And yet, in the midst of the darkness of this world, we may ask ourselves, “Where is God in all this?” That’s actually a very appropriate question to ask when discussing Queen Vashti and the book of Esther as a whole. The book of Esther is kind of famous for being the only book in the Bible where God is not specifically mentioned.
Queen Vashti is not the main character in this story. She is used as a plot device to show what kind of man this king was - one who valued wealth over people, who listened to his advisors, who treated his wife as a thing rather than a person - and so she is cast out and enter Esther, a woman of Jewish descent, although she is to keep that a secret, and it is through her coming before the King, and pleading her case, something that well could have gotten her cast out like Vashti - that she stops a genocide of Jewish people that the king’s advisors were telling him to carry out.
But God - God is never mentioned specifically. To the astute reader, however, God is all over this story. God is with Esther and she assumed her position. God is with Esther as she pleads her case before the King. God is with Esther when the Jewish people are saved. God raised Esther up “for such a time as this” to do the right thing and save God’s people. And...God was also with Vashti. God was not just using Vashti as a plot device to bring Esther onto the scene. God was with Vashti when she claimed her courage, God was with Vashti when she said no. God was with Vashti, even as she was banished. For God is with all of us at all times.
The Bible is full of what we call “texts of terror.” The Bible depicts child sacrifice, rape, murder, genocide, and a plethora of violent acts. It is a good reminder that although something is Biblical, it does not make it Christlike. Our Bible is full of absolutely horrid things. I have preached on many of these horrid things before - but at a domestic violence awareness themed sermon that comes with many trigger warnings. I am not prepared to dive into all these texts today. But I will, briefly share, one story that has always stuck with me when asking the question, “Where is God in all this darkness, evil, and violence?”
In 2 Samuel, Tamar, the daughter of David, is raped by her half-brother, Amnon. Unfortunately, many people conspired to make this act of violence happen. And Tamar pleaded with her brother, begging to be spared from this violence. But she was ignored and this horrendous act of violence and evil was done against her.
Where in the world was God in the midst of all this?
God was in her no.
God was in her voice and agency when she said no. When she said no to protect herself. When she protected herself with her voice.
God was ignored by the perpetrators of violence in this text, we all have free will and can all ignore what God desires and choose evil - but that does not change the fact that God was with Tamar in her powerful no.
God was with Tamar in her weeping and screaming and rending of clothes that happened after.
God is with and in every voice that says no to violence. God is with and in every person who is harmed and weeps at injustice. God is saying no to violence with them. God is weeping at injustice with them.
While the story of Queen Vashti is not as explicitly violent as the story of Tamar - God was still with her in her courageous no. And in her banishment. God always sides with the outcast, the oppressed, the trodden on, the forgotten.
For some people, this may not sound like the Good News of the Gospel. What do you mean that horrible, violent acts still happen to people? Or could happen to me? What do you mean that my faith isn’t a magical amulet that assures me protection against bad things? And yet. I have found, for many, especially for survivors of acts of violence or those who are oppressed, there is nothing more Good than this Good News: God is on your side. God is in your “no” as you say no to the violence and hate in this world. God weeps with you when you weep. God does not want this for you or for anyone. God wants the day when all are treated as the beloved children of God that we were all created to be. The day when it is, on earth as it is in heaven…and until that day. God is with you. God is with them. God is with us. Take heart. No matter what darkness you have walked through, are walking through, or will walk through - you are never alone. God is with you.
The story of Queen Vashti - and of Esther - who was raised up to “such a time as this,” reminds me of a favorite quote from The Lord of the Rings. In the book this conversation happens between Frodo and Gandalf, in the movie it’s Pippin. But in the book there is a conversation that goes like this:
“I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo.
"So do I," said Gandalf, "and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”
For those who have lived to see dark times, in their lives and in the world, we wish these dark times had never come to us. And yet…we have to choose what to do with the time given to us.
My prayer and hope for us as we encounter dark times is this:
May we have courage.
Courage to stand up like Queen Vashti and Tamar and all in Scripture and our world who say, “No” to injustice and violence.
May we have assurance of God’s presence with us in all and every circumstance.
May all who are downtrodden, oppressed, cast out - may they, through us sharing God’s love and care with them, know that God is with them.
May we be faithful disciples of Christ who were chosen for such a time as this - to shine light in the darkness.
May it be so. Amen.
Monday, August 4, 2025
“Overlooked Stories: The Daughters of Zelophehad” a sermon on Numbers 27:1-11
Numbers 27:1-11
“Overlooked Stories: The Daughters of Zelophehad”
Preached Sunday, August 3, 2025
The daughters of Zelophehad - Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah - you may not be familiar with their story, I know that I wasn’t before I chose this sermon series called, “Overlooked Stories.” During the month of August I will be focusing on five stories, and characters, from Scripture that may fade into the background. Maybe we’ve heard of them - maybe we haven’t. But likely we haven’t spent a lot of time with them and reflected what these overlooked stories have to say to us about God and our faith.
We are beginning this series with the daughters of Zelophehad - Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. While their names are hard for me to say, it is important for me to say their names. Because, very surprisingly, the Bible does. Multiple times. In the Hebrew Bible, the text we know as the Old Testament, there are 1,426 personal names. 1,315 of those names are male or presumed to be male. That means there are only 111 female names used in the whole Old Testament - a mere 9 percent. And so, for these 5 daughters to all be named is, in itself extraordinary. It also goes beyond that. These women - Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah - are not only mentioned in Numbers 27. They are mentioned 5 times in the Scriptures - Numbers 26, 27, and 36, Joshua 17, and 1 Chronicles 7. In four of those five times, their names - Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah - are used. They are mentioned in three books of the Hebrew Bible - there are only two people mentioned in more books of the Hebrew Bible than them - they are Miriam and Moses.
Just by the numbers games - readers of the Hebrew Bible should be alerted at the extreme importance of these women, the daughters of Zelophehad - Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. And yet, for many readers of these sacred texts, they are overlooked and unknown. Let’s change that for us gathered here today.
First, their story:
They first appear in the Hebrew canon in Numbers 26 where we establish their genealogy. They are descended from the ancestors of two half tribes of Israel - Ephraim and Manasseh. Zelophehad is a tenth generation son who fathered no sons - but five daughters. The name of their mother is not known. By the time we get to our story from today, in Numbers 27, Zelophehad has died, leaving his five daughters without an inheritance that they can legally claim - if there had been born sons instead of daughters, there would have been no issue.
The book of Numbers gets its names from the censuses that take place within it. The census is important because it is dividing up the land. According to the law of Israel, women could not inherit. Wil Gafney, author of Womanist Midrash, who I want to acknowledge her scholarship helped me understand this text and what was at play here, she points out that at this time Israel was actually unique in its law to not allow women to inherit land. She says, “Just as Israel was relatively isolated in largely restricting women from public and professional religious roles, they were also virtually alone in legislating women’s exclusion from property law. Women through the ancient Near East, from Egypt to Mesopotamia broadly, and specifically in places like Sumer, Ugarit, and Elam, owned and inherited property for more than a thousand years before the codification of Israel law.. The codes of Hammurabi and Israel’s Hittite neighbors also legally enfranchised the property rights of women.”
In other word’s, Israel’s laws prohibiting women from inheriting property, were not simply a sign of the times. They were unjust and restrictive. Enter the daughters of Zelophehad - Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. Their father was dead. They were unmarried. They had no brothers. There was no male in close enough relationship to them that they would be counted in the census. Soon, they would have nothing to their names - no place of their own. So they stood up. They stood in the tent of meeting - they stood between the leading men of their community in front of them - all the other men in their community behind. Before them was considered the meeting place of God. They were in between, a mediator. A place where Moses often stood. And they said, perhaps with one voice, “Give us the land.” They did not ask. They did not beg. They did not add “please” at the end. They stood up and they said, they demanded, “Give us the land.” They then made their argument as to what they were due. They said, a quote from our Scripture, “Our father died in the wilderness; he was not among the congregation of those who gathered themselves together against the Lord in the congregation of Korah but died for his own sin, and he had no sons. Why should the name of our father be taken away from his clan because he had no son? Give to us a possession among our father’s brothers.” In other words, “Our father was a good man in good standing. He didn’t do anything against the tribe or earn any disinheritance. If we were men, we would have rightfully inherited. Thus, give us what should be ours if we were but men.”
Moses hears their demands, and he deliberates. He takes it to God. He does not dismiss the out of hand - this is to his credit. And God takes the side of the daughters of Zelophehad - Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. God says - yes. God says, “they are right” - a word meaning not just correct but righteous. It is a powerful affirmation from God. And it should not surprise us. The theme of caring for the least and the least, which specifically includes widows and orphans, women and children, is a strong theme in all of our holy Scriptures. As we heard from Isaiah this morning:
“Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean;
remove your evil deeds
from before my eyes;
cease to do evil;
learn to do good;
seek justice;
rescue the oppressed;
defend the orphan;
plead for the widow.”
God hears them. And God doesn’t just hear the specific case of Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. God uses them, if you will, as case law, commanding Moses and the people of Israel to re-write all their inheritance laws as it pertains to fatherless daughters without husbands or brothers. Women were now eligible to inherit land. This a change of torah, a change of the law. One commentator phrased it to say that while the law may have been written in stone, this story shows us that God’s people should be flexible and willing to right injustices - even if it means re-writing the law.
This is not the end of the story of Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. After all, they are mentioned three more times in Scripture. We are, however, going to pause here for a moment, talk about the United Methodist heritage of justice work and bring in some more recent examples of Christians listening to God to right wrongs and re-write unjust laws.
I have talked about and preached many times over the Wesleyan theological concept known as “Means of Grace” - that is, the ways that we are called to live out our faith and the ways we encounter God. There are two axes - a vertical and horizontal - making four quadrants. I’ve talked about this before so I am going to rush through it a little - if it’s new to you, I’d love to talk to you more about it. So we have a vertical axis and horizontal axis that over lap - making four quadrants. Picture it with me. First we are concerned about our relationship with God - so we are called to individual acts of piety - prayer, reading the Bible, and such. And we are called to communal acts of worship - gathering together, singing hymns, celebrating the sacraments, and such. We are also called to be act on our relationship with our neighbors. So we are called to individual acts of compassion or charity - basically everything mentioned in Matthew 25: feed the hungry, give the thirsty something to drink, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger, visit the sick and imprisoned. And then in this last quadrant, we are called to communal acts of justice. This is the concept, and the exhortation, that we aren’t just called to address needs as they arise with acts of compassion and charity - but we are to work against systems of injustice and work for a world where there is no hunger, no thirst, no need, no outcasts, no forgotten person. We are to work toward the Kingdom of God. Now, we need all four of these quadrants to experience the fullness of our faith. I have talked before about how if you only have one of the axes - you don’t have the fullness of our discipleship. We need love of God and love of neighbor - together they form the cross.
This last one we just talked about, communal acts of Justice. It’s often been politicized. Been scoffed at. Told to keep out of the pulpit. And yet, Justice is as much of a Christian concept as loving God is. This is not justice as it is often thought about and played out in our world today - courts and arrests and fines and sentences with a “justice” system that is less about rehabilitation as it is punishment. God’s justice is about setting all things right, about “Your kingdom on earth as it is in heaven.” About creating that holy Kingdom here on Earth where all persons are treated as the beloved children of God that God created us as.
When I talk about those four quadrants, I often say that each of us is going to have a quadrant in which we feel most comfortable. To which we naturally gravitate based on the gifts and personality that God gave us. I, for example, gravitate towards the Communal Worship quadrant. The beautiful thing about the body of Christ, is there are people who feel most at home in each quadrant present in this congregation. Together, we make up the fullness of the body of Christ.
And…I also say, that doesn’t excuse us from participating in the other quadrants. We are all called to the fullness of our faith. We are called to push ourselves, to grow, to step into areas of discipleship that don’t come naturally to us. Or, on the flipside, to extend a hand to others to “your” quadrant to help teach them the ropes of that area of Christian discipleship. The first time I participated in a march for a cause I believed in, a cause that I believed would help make this world look more like God’s Kingdom, it was alongside a seasoned friend in this area. I would not have had the courage to go alone. The first time I went to a prison, it was on an organized tour meant to educate seminary students. I needed my siblings in Christ to help me step out and grow in my faith and discipleship.
Each of us is called to justice work just as each of us is called to prayer.
And so, some examples for us to follow.
Martin Luther King Jr is certainly an example of a man who lived out his faith and pursued justice. In his “Letter from the Birmingham Jail” he gave multiple examples of just and unjust laws. Here is one such definition from that letter: “Any law that uplifts human personality is just. Any law that degrades human personality is unjust. All segregation statutes are unjust because segregation distorts the soul and damages the personality. It gives the segregated a false sense of inferiority.” King gave his life to make our world a more just place, more like the Kingdom of God.
Further back in our tradition, John Wesley worked tirelessly for causes of Justice & the Gospel. He preached to miners and encouraged workers’ rights. He spoke out against the horrors of slavery and the slave trade - even when it was immensely unpopular to do so and he put his own well-being at risk on multiple occasions, escaping mobs and the threats of being tarred and feathered. One way he fought against this injustice was appealing to the humanity of those trafficking humans:
“Are you a man? Then you should have a human heart. .. . Do you never feel another's pain? Have you no sympathy .. . no sense of human woe, no pity for the miserable? When you saw the flowing eyes, the heaving breasts, or the bleeding sides and tortured limbs of your fellow-creatures, was [were] you a stone, or a brute? . . . Whatever you lose, lose not your soul: Nothing can countervail that loss. Immediately quit the horrid trade: At all events, be an honest man.”
As Christians we are called to love and care for all God’s children - to free the oppressed from oppression which seeks to eradicate the imago dei in all people. And to free the oppressor from the grip of hate which destroys the soul. This is the work of Christian Justice.
There are so many examples I could give. So many stories of Christians - giving water to refugees in the desert, feeding lunch to the homeless in the park, housing families in sanctuaries - examples of things that are illegal, according to the law - but actions that are just and right in the eyes of God.
The Christian work of Justice is not easy work. It requires courage to stand up for what is right - like Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah did. It requires a voice - clear and strong or wavering - but still speaking out for what is right. “Give us the land” as the sisters - Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah - said. It requires those in power to listen and then to act for what is right. And above all, it requires persistence. The march towards justice is slow and arduous and does not come all at once.
Which brings us back to our story of Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. This story in Numbers 27 should have been a happy ending. The women stand up for their rights, for what is right, and God calls them righteous and commands things not just be made right for them but for all women who are left in the lurch with no fathers, brothers, or husbands. Justice has been done. God calls it good and right.
But Moses…Moses ignores what God commands. He never gives them the inheritance that God told Moses that he should. Here we get into the complicated person of Moses - and his complicated relationship with women. Or, well, we could get into it but that’s for another sermon. This one is getting long enough…But here’s what you need to know. The next time Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah appear in Scripture, in Numbers 36, it is the men of the assembly complaining against these women and what God commanded regarding them. “But what if they marry men from other tribes and become richer because of it?” Moses does not consult God and says “Fine - they must marry men of their own tribe or forfeit their inheritance.” This takes away their agency…but still, they have not yet been granted their inheritance. Not while Moses is alive. In Numbers 20, God tells Moses that because of his disobedience, he will never see the promised land. God says, “Because you did not trust in me, to show my holiness before the eyes of the Israelites, therefore you shall not bring this assembly into the land that I have given them.” God’s rebuke in Numbers never gives specific reasoning - the context is he doesn’t strike a rock to give water - as he does in the Exodus account, Gafney says her preferred womanist interpretation of this text is that Moses is banned from the Promise Land, dying having never seen it, because he failed Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. He failed to listen to God’s command to do right by them and by women in their circumstances. Moses never gave them the inheritance.
So when Moses dies, and Joshua brings the people into the promised land, Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah now stand before Joshua in Joshua 17 and they, once again, say, “Give us the land that is ours.” They do not ask. They do not beg. They don’t even say please. They know what is right and what is just - God has already confirmed their request as righteous. Joshua immediately complies and gives them their inheritance that Moses denied them.
The story of Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah tells us that the path towards justice is a slow and arduous one and persistence is needed. The story of Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah tells us that institutions and people in power, even good people likes Moses, or as King wrote about, “the white moderates who say to wait,” will stand in the way of God’s will that justice be done, that Earth looks more like Heaven, that all are cared for as the beloved children of God that we all were created to be.
The story of Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah - the daughters of Zelophehad - is an overlooked one but an extremely important one. It tells us of God’s heart for justice, of caring for the last, the lost and the least - the widow and the orphan - all who society marginalizes. It tells us to stand up for what is right. It tells us to be persistent that God’s will be done, persistent in making sure we care for one another, that unjust systems are dismantled, that unjust laws are re-written, that we act out what we pray in the Lord’s prayer, “on earth as it is in heaven.”
So today, whenever and wherever you see injustice in this world, listen to and learn from the story of Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. Speak up. Be bold. Trust in God. Live out your discipleship in fullness and wholeness, making our world more like God’s Kingdom.
May it be so. Amen.
“Overlooked Stories: The Daughters of Zelophehad”
Preached Sunday, August 3, 2025
The daughters of Zelophehad - Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah - you may not be familiar with their story, I know that I wasn’t before I chose this sermon series called, “Overlooked Stories.” During the month of August I will be focusing on five stories, and characters, from Scripture that may fade into the background. Maybe we’ve heard of them - maybe we haven’t. But likely we haven’t spent a lot of time with them and reflected what these overlooked stories have to say to us about God and our faith.
We are beginning this series with the daughters of Zelophehad - Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. While their names are hard for me to say, it is important for me to say their names. Because, very surprisingly, the Bible does. Multiple times. In the Hebrew Bible, the text we know as the Old Testament, there are 1,426 personal names. 1,315 of those names are male or presumed to be male. That means there are only 111 female names used in the whole Old Testament - a mere 9 percent. And so, for these 5 daughters to all be named is, in itself extraordinary. It also goes beyond that. These women - Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah - are not only mentioned in Numbers 27. They are mentioned 5 times in the Scriptures - Numbers 26, 27, and 36, Joshua 17, and 1 Chronicles 7. In four of those five times, their names - Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah - are used. They are mentioned in three books of the Hebrew Bible - there are only two people mentioned in more books of the Hebrew Bible than them - they are Miriam and Moses.
Just by the numbers games - readers of the Hebrew Bible should be alerted at the extreme importance of these women, the daughters of Zelophehad - Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. And yet, for many readers of these sacred texts, they are overlooked and unknown. Let’s change that for us gathered here today.
First, their story:
They first appear in the Hebrew canon in Numbers 26 where we establish their genealogy. They are descended from the ancestors of two half tribes of Israel - Ephraim and Manasseh. Zelophehad is a tenth generation son who fathered no sons - but five daughters. The name of their mother is not known. By the time we get to our story from today, in Numbers 27, Zelophehad has died, leaving his five daughters without an inheritance that they can legally claim - if there had been born sons instead of daughters, there would have been no issue.
The book of Numbers gets its names from the censuses that take place within it. The census is important because it is dividing up the land. According to the law of Israel, women could not inherit. Wil Gafney, author of Womanist Midrash, who I want to acknowledge her scholarship helped me understand this text and what was at play here, she points out that at this time Israel was actually unique in its law to not allow women to inherit land. She says, “Just as Israel was relatively isolated in largely restricting women from public and professional religious roles, they were also virtually alone in legislating women’s exclusion from property law. Women through the ancient Near East, from Egypt to Mesopotamia broadly, and specifically in places like Sumer, Ugarit, and Elam, owned and inherited property for more than a thousand years before the codification of Israel law.. The codes of Hammurabi and Israel’s Hittite neighbors also legally enfranchised the property rights of women.”
In other word’s, Israel’s laws prohibiting women from inheriting property, were not simply a sign of the times. They were unjust and restrictive. Enter the daughters of Zelophehad - Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. Their father was dead. They were unmarried. They had no brothers. There was no male in close enough relationship to them that they would be counted in the census. Soon, they would have nothing to their names - no place of their own. So they stood up. They stood in the tent of meeting - they stood between the leading men of their community in front of them - all the other men in their community behind. Before them was considered the meeting place of God. They were in between, a mediator. A place where Moses often stood. And they said, perhaps with one voice, “Give us the land.” They did not ask. They did not beg. They did not add “please” at the end. They stood up and they said, they demanded, “Give us the land.” They then made their argument as to what they were due. They said, a quote from our Scripture, “Our father died in the wilderness; he was not among the congregation of those who gathered themselves together against the Lord in the congregation of Korah but died for his own sin, and he had no sons. Why should the name of our father be taken away from his clan because he had no son? Give to us a possession among our father’s brothers.” In other words, “Our father was a good man in good standing. He didn’t do anything against the tribe or earn any disinheritance. If we were men, we would have rightfully inherited. Thus, give us what should be ours if we were but men.”
Moses hears their demands, and he deliberates. He takes it to God. He does not dismiss the out of hand - this is to his credit. And God takes the side of the daughters of Zelophehad - Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. God says - yes. God says, “they are right” - a word meaning not just correct but righteous. It is a powerful affirmation from God. And it should not surprise us. The theme of caring for the least and the least, which specifically includes widows and orphans, women and children, is a strong theme in all of our holy Scriptures. As we heard from Isaiah this morning:
“Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean;
remove your evil deeds
from before my eyes;
cease to do evil;
learn to do good;
seek justice;
rescue the oppressed;
defend the orphan;
plead for the widow.”
God hears them. And God doesn’t just hear the specific case of Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. God uses them, if you will, as case law, commanding Moses and the people of Israel to re-write all their inheritance laws as it pertains to fatherless daughters without husbands or brothers. Women were now eligible to inherit land. This a change of torah, a change of the law. One commentator phrased it to say that while the law may have been written in stone, this story shows us that God’s people should be flexible and willing to right injustices - even if it means re-writing the law.
This is not the end of the story of Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. After all, they are mentioned three more times in Scripture. We are, however, going to pause here for a moment, talk about the United Methodist heritage of justice work and bring in some more recent examples of Christians listening to God to right wrongs and re-write unjust laws.
I have talked about and preached many times over the Wesleyan theological concept known as “Means of Grace” - that is, the ways that we are called to live out our faith and the ways we encounter God. There are two axes - a vertical and horizontal - making four quadrants. I’ve talked about this before so I am going to rush through it a little - if it’s new to you, I’d love to talk to you more about it. So we have a vertical axis and horizontal axis that over lap - making four quadrants. Picture it with me. First we are concerned about our relationship with God - so we are called to individual acts of piety - prayer, reading the Bible, and such. And we are called to communal acts of worship - gathering together, singing hymns, celebrating the sacraments, and such. We are also called to be act on our relationship with our neighbors. So we are called to individual acts of compassion or charity - basically everything mentioned in Matthew 25: feed the hungry, give the thirsty something to drink, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger, visit the sick and imprisoned. And then in this last quadrant, we are called to communal acts of justice. This is the concept, and the exhortation, that we aren’t just called to address needs as they arise with acts of compassion and charity - but we are to work against systems of injustice and work for a world where there is no hunger, no thirst, no need, no outcasts, no forgotten person. We are to work toward the Kingdom of God. Now, we need all four of these quadrants to experience the fullness of our faith. I have talked before about how if you only have one of the axes - you don’t have the fullness of our discipleship. We need love of God and love of neighbor - together they form the cross.
This last one we just talked about, communal acts of Justice. It’s often been politicized. Been scoffed at. Told to keep out of the pulpit. And yet, Justice is as much of a Christian concept as loving God is. This is not justice as it is often thought about and played out in our world today - courts and arrests and fines and sentences with a “justice” system that is less about rehabilitation as it is punishment. God’s justice is about setting all things right, about “Your kingdom on earth as it is in heaven.” About creating that holy Kingdom here on Earth where all persons are treated as the beloved children of God that God created us as.
When I talk about those four quadrants, I often say that each of us is going to have a quadrant in which we feel most comfortable. To which we naturally gravitate based on the gifts and personality that God gave us. I, for example, gravitate towards the Communal Worship quadrant. The beautiful thing about the body of Christ, is there are people who feel most at home in each quadrant present in this congregation. Together, we make up the fullness of the body of Christ.
And…I also say, that doesn’t excuse us from participating in the other quadrants. We are all called to the fullness of our faith. We are called to push ourselves, to grow, to step into areas of discipleship that don’t come naturally to us. Or, on the flipside, to extend a hand to others to “your” quadrant to help teach them the ropes of that area of Christian discipleship. The first time I participated in a march for a cause I believed in, a cause that I believed would help make this world look more like God’s Kingdom, it was alongside a seasoned friend in this area. I would not have had the courage to go alone. The first time I went to a prison, it was on an organized tour meant to educate seminary students. I needed my siblings in Christ to help me step out and grow in my faith and discipleship.
Each of us is called to justice work just as each of us is called to prayer.
And so, some examples for us to follow.
Martin Luther King Jr is certainly an example of a man who lived out his faith and pursued justice. In his “Letter from the Birmingham Jail” he gave multiple examples of just and unjust laws. Here is one such definition from that letter: “Any law that uplifts human personality is just. Any law that degrades human personality is unjust. All segregation statutes are unjust because segregation distorts the soul and damages the personality. It gives the segregated a false sense of inferiority.” King gave his life to make our world a more just place, more like the Kingdom of God.
Further back in our tradition, John Wesley worked tirelessly for causes of Justice & the Gospel. He preached to miners and encouraged workers’ rights. He spoke out against the horrors of slavery and the slave trade - even when it was immensely unpopular to do so and he put his own well-being at risk on multiple occasions, escaping mobs and the threats of being tarred and feathered. One way he fought against this injustice was appealing to the humanity of those trafficking humans:
“Are you a man? Then you should have a human heart. .. . Do you never feel another's pain? Have you no sympathy .. . no sense of human woe, no pity for the miserable? When you saw the flowing eyes, the heaving breasts, or the bleeding sides and tortured limbs of your fellow-creatures, was [were] you a stone, or a brute? . . . Whatever you lose, lose not your soul: Nothing can countervail that loss. Immediately quit the horrid trade: At all events, be an honest man.”
As Christians we are called to love and care for all God’s children - to free the oppressed from oppression which seeks to eradicate the imago dei in all people. And to free the oppressor from the grip of hate which destroys the soul. This is the work of Christian Justice.
There are so many examples I could give. So many stories of Christians - giving water to refugees in the desert, feeding lunch to the homeless in the park, housing families in sanctuaries - examples of things that are illegal, according to the law - but actions that are just and right in the eyes of God.
The Christian work of Justice is not easy work. It requires courage to stand up for what is right - like Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah did. It requires a voice - clear and strong or wavering - but still speaking out for what is right. “Give us the land” as the sisters - Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah - said. It requires those in power to listen and then to act for what is right. And above all, it requires persistence. The march towards justice is slow and arduous and does not come all at once.
Which brings us back to our story of Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. This story in Numbers 27 should have been a happy ending. The women stand up for their rights, for what is right, and God calls them righteous and commands things not just be made right for them but for all women who are left in the lurch with no fathers, brothers, or husbands. Justice has been done. God calls it good and right.
But Moses…Moses ignores what God commands. He never gives them the inheritance that God told Moses that he should. Here we get into the complicated person of Moses - and his complicated relationship with women. Or, well, we could get into it but that’s for another sermon. This one is getting long enough…But here’s what you need to know. The next time Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah appear in Scripture, in Numbers 36, it is the men of the assembly complaining against these women and what God commanded regarding them. “But what if they marry men from other tribes and become richer because of it?” Moses does not consult God and says “Fine - they must marry men of their own tribe or forfeit their inheritance.” This takes away their agency…but still, they have not yet been granted their inheritance. Not while Moses is alive. In Numbers 20, God tells Moses that because of his disobedience, he will never see the promised land. God says, “Because you did not trust in me, to show my holiness before the eyes of the Israelites, therefore you shall not bring this assembly into the land that I have given them.” God’s rebuke in Numbers never gives specific reasoning - the context is he doesn’t strike a rock to give water - as he does in the Exodus account, Gafney says her preferred womanist interpretation of this text is that Moses is banned from the Promise Land, dying having never seen it, because he failed Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. He failed to listen to God’s command to do right by them and by women in their circumstances. Moses never gave them the inheritance.
So when Moses dies, and Joshua brings the people into the promised land, Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah now stand before Joshua in Joshua 17 and they, once again, say, “Give us the land that is ours.” They do not ask. They do not beg. They don’t even say please. They know what is right and what is just - God has already confirmed their request as righteous. Joshua immediately complies and gives them their inheritance that Moses denied them.
The story of Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah tells us that the path towards justice is a slow and arduous one and persistence is needed. The story of Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah tells us that institutions and people in power, even good people likes Moses, or as King wrote about, “the white moderates who say to wait,” will stand in the way of God’s will that justice be done, that Earth looks more like Heaven, that all are cared for as the beloved children of God that we all were created to be.
The story of Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah - the daughters of Zelophehad - is an overlooked one but an extremely important one. It tells us of God’s heart for justice, of caring for the last, the lost and the least - the widow and the orphan - all who society marginalizes. It tells us to stand up for what is right. It tells us to be persistent that God’s will be done, persistent in making sure we care for one another, that unjust systems are dismantled, that unjust laws are re-written, that we act out what we pray in the Lord’s prayer, “on earth as it is in heaven.”
So today, whenever and wherever you see injustice in this world, listen to and learn from the story of Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. Speak up. Be bold. Trust in God. Live out your discipleship in fullness and wholeness, making our world more like God’s Kingdom.
May it be so. Amen.
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