Storing Up Reserves
Sermon by Pr. Craig Mueller on the First Sunday in Advent, Lectionary 32 + Sunday, November 10, 2024
Even before Election Day, I was spent and exhausted. Like many of you, carrying worry and stress. Hearing hateful, divisive speech that you think can’t ratchet any higher. Or lower. Sexism and racism and transphobia and xenophobia.
I woke up Wednesday depleted. Dispirited. Dejected. Quite emotional, I preached at the seminary that morning, not feeling in my midsection much good news to proclaim.
On Wednesday morning, an African American mother listened to her daughter—who had voted for the first time—cry on the phone with her for an hour. Trans folks are more afraid than ever. Other LGBTQ people wonder if their rights could be revoked.
The question is: do we have the deep spiritual reserves to meet this moment? Fear causes people to panic shop, to store up reserves for an emergency. A storm. A pandemic. Because you don’t want to run out of what you need to live on.
And that leads to our readings today. Widows are mentioned in two readings and the psalm. If widows—or more specifically those most vulnerable, outcast, and marginalized—were mentioned in campaign speeches, they usually otherized. One thing we know from scripture is God’s particular favor and care for the widow—as well as orphans, exiles, and those most in need.
The widow of Zarephath, her resources spent, in the midst of a drought, offers Elijah the sustenance he needs in time of need. Israel’s kings had plenty--unrestricted political ego, that is. And a pathology, used for political gain, as Daniel Berrigan writes. In other words, “God favors us. God hates our enemies.” Listen to Berrigan’s description of the rulers then. Strongmen! Political retaliation. Military might. Revisionist history. Manipulation of memory and time. Grandiose building projects. Economic exploitation. Dangerous nationalism. And sealing it all with divine approval. Eerie!
Dissenting voices were silenced, considered unpatriotic and seditious. Except for . . . Elijah. A lonely prophet. Manic and reclusive. Who faces down the political powers.
Enter the foreign widow from Zarephath, nearly spent, with scant reserves, just a little flour and oil—the last food for her and her son before they die. But Elijah announces good news amid famine, amid death. The flour will not fail. Some translations of the Hebrew say the flour will not be exhausted or spent. The oil will not be depleted, or literally lacking. As a result of this widow’s faith there will be an unfailing supply of food.
And it came to be. God provides for this widow’s needs. She risks everything she has—her life and her son’s life—on the words of a stranger. Unlike the corrupt kings of Israel, this lowly foreign woman draws on her reserves, trusting that God will provide what she truly needs to live.
And the other widow. More well known to us. The rich throw in a fist full of coins. But this courageous woman, trusts her tiny gift has value in God’s eyes. Jesus notices her dignity. Her two coins are gestures of defiance: a subversive resistance to dehumanization. (Debie Thomas).
The widow gives her all—everything she had to live on. Her outer resources may be spent, drawing on her spiritual reserves, she
trusts in the God at the heart of a religion that is simultaneously of God, yet corrupt.
A seminary student from India wasn’t surprised at all by our election results. “This is what my nation and many others deal with all the time,” he said. We often put our trust and our hope in rulers and in government. Yet politics cannot save us! In the aftermath of all we are living through, exhausted and spent, today’s psalm puts it succinctly: “Put not your trust in rulers, in mortals in whom there is no help.”
Instead, draw on your spiritual reserves. Rather than thinking self-care is taking it easy on Sunday morning and skipping church, consider being here in community self-care, storing up reserves for the hardships and challenges of life.
Nature reminds us that the seasons that come and go. And animals prepare for hibernation by storing up reserves, food for the winter.
African American mystic Howard Thurman wrote that we need to center down, to sit quietly and let one’s self pass by! He talks about the streets of our mind that seethe with endless traffic, while something deep within hungers and thirsts for the still moment and the resting lull. It’s not only the traffic of our minds, I would add, but the never-ending traffic of news updates, social media, online notifications, emails, and texts. Take time to center down. And to power down! Get outside. Go for a walk. Spend time with a child. Or a pet. Or a book. Turn to spiritual practices.
The Buddhist concept of equanimity also provides wisdom. Upekkha, the word for equanimity, means to “stand in the middle of all this.” Equanimity is an anchor, a sense of balance that keeps you centered so you are not tossed about news that comes and goes, and by the joys and sorrows of life. Rather than being reactive, equanimity enables us to have a clear head. Accepting what is—even as you are reinvigorated to strive, pray, hope, and work for a more just society.
People of God, you have been storing up spiritual reserves for the long winter ahead. For the work ahead. The struggle ahead. Draw on the reserves, the spiritual food, that nourishes you Sunday after Sunday. The gospel. The scriptures. The eucharist. The sacred stories. This community.
When you are spent, exhausted, depleted, dejected. When you don’t think you can go on. When despair overtakes you. When you relive past trauma. When the headlines bring you down. When there seems to be no good news in sight. When there doesn’t seem to be an ounce of hope left to draw on. We gather to sing of Advent hope. We sing of a new day coming. We sing of a God who never fails. We sing of Jesus, who like the widow, gives his life, everything he had to live on. We sing of God, whose giving knows no ending, from a rich and endless store of grace and mercy.
Let us not give up. Let us be bold in standing up for the values of our faith. Let us be bold in showing our nation another way to be Christian. As we prepare to make our 2025 intentions this coming week, let us be bold in generous support of the mission of this congregation we love.
Come to this table for strength and sustenance. When spent, store up reserves here and now! A new day is dawning. And with it, renewed hope for a just world and an equitable sharing of resources. And that will demand boldness: all the skill and time and treasure you can muster. And the unfailing mercy of God.
