We Are Shepherds

I stand before you very conflicted.

You see, I am angry—really angry.

And I am wounded.

Wounded because I know the harm that is coming to some of my siblings.

Because of the cuts to SNAP, I know my poor and low-income siblings—many of them children—will go hungry.

Because of cuts to Medicaid, I know my poor and low-income siblings will go without essential medical care and prescriptions.

I know elder care facilities will close—leaving some seniors homeless.

I know rural hospitals will close—leaving people in sparsely populated areas without essential medical care.

And I know the continued assault on immigrants will separate families, deport tens of thousands of hardworking, taxpaying people, and will do nothing to make this country safer.

One of my seminary professors once told me, we never preach from our wounds; we should only preach from our scars.

My wounds are far too fresh—they have not had time to heal.

So, this morning, I stand before you and I can only preach from my wounds.

I debated saying, “I am wounded and, therefore, I cannot preach”.

But that would’ve been dishonest.

I can preach—and I will preach.

But, I’ll say up front, it is from a raw place.

There are those who would say that talking about HR 1—I can’t bring myself to call it the “One Big Beautiful Bill”—is politics and doesn’t belong in the pulpit.

They are certainly entitled to that opinion.

But I would counter that by saying a budget—or, in this case, a spending plan—is a moral document.

It defines what we value—what we believe in.

And morality, values, beliefs—those are certainly the purview of our faith.

HR 1 says we value individual wealth more than feeding children.

HR 1 says tax breaks for corporations are more important than the health and wellbeing of poor people and seniors.

HR 1 says we believe that some people are better than others.

That only the right people deserve due process.

That rounding up people with brown skin—not criminals, but people looking for work at Home Depots, people picking fruits and vegetables in the fields, and people working in meatpacking plants—rounding up and deporting those people is more important than feeding people and making sure they have medical care.

HR 1 has increased funding for ICE to the point that their budget is now greater than the FBI, ATF, DEA, and Federal Bureau of Prisons COMBINED!

HR 1, as a moral document, says that we, as a country, are morally bankrupt.

And that saddens me.

Because I love this country—I truly do.

But this morning I am ashamed—ashamed of what we have become.

Now, that may make some of you mad—or at least uncomfortable.

You may be thinking I should stick to the gospel.

I, of course, would argue that’s precisely what I’m doing but we may just have to agree to disagree on that point.

Some of you may be thinking that I’m being negative and that I should just focus on what I am for.

Fair point.

So, here is what I am for—and, for today, I’ll confine myself to three things.

First, feeding people who are hungry—no conditions, no stipulations.

We live in the wealthiest country in the world—no one should go hungry.

Second, healthcare for all.

We have one of the highest infant mortality rates among industrialized nations—babies dying due to inadequate medical care is an absolute travesty.

And no one should have to choose between taking their prescription medications and paying their rent or feeding their children.

Third, equal treatment under the law.

No one is above the law.

And everyone is entitled to due process.

That’s MY moral document—feed people who are hungry, healthcare for all, and equal treatment under the law.

When we fail at it—be forewarned—I’m gonna preach about it.

And I’ll preach about it with the full confidence that I am doing so in alignment with the teachings and the example of Jesus.

Now, I did have a sermon mostly prepared before HR 1 passed.

And I think it aligns pretty well with what I’ve been saying.

So, I’ve pared it down a bit and will continue with it here.

Today’s second reading and gospel are both about how we live out our faith.

In the second reading, Paul is advising the community of Jesus followers that he planted how to live as the Body of Christ.

In the gospel, Jesus sends out 72 of his followers to bring good news to the surrounding communities.

The stories are different, but they have a common thread.

So, first, let’s talk about the lesson from Galatians.

Paul planted the faith community in Galatia and then he went away.

He continued on his missionary journey.

And people came in behind Paul claiming to have authority to preach to the community.

And those teachers said that Gentiles—non-Jews—must get circumcised to follow Jesus.

Paul’s letter disputes that.

Paul says that what is important is faith in Jesus.

And the living out of that faith is in community.

A united community that cares for one another.

Not a community that is divided by who is circumcised and who is not.

And that community cares for each other by “bearing each other’s burdens”.

Paul says, “Never grow tired of doing good.”

We know how early Christian communities were living from the description in The Acts of the Apostles.

In chapter 2, we read, “Those who believed lived together, shared all things in common; they would sell their property and goods, sharing the proceeds with one another as each had need. They met in the Temple and they broke bread together in their homes every day.”

That was the model.

“Those who believed lived together, sharing all things in common.”

Their belief in Jesus bound them together in community—as the Body of Christ.

It did not matter whether they were Gentile or Jew before their encounter with Jesus changed them forever.

There is a lesson for us in that unity.

In Galatia, the issue was circumcised or uncircumcised.

For us, it is rich or poor.

Black or white.

Gay or straight.

Cisgender or transgender.

Immigrant or citizen.

These are all arbitrary categories made irrelevant by the love of God and our experience of Jesus.

We are meant to love one another—to bear each other’s burdens.

Just as Jesus did—without exception.

Loving one another is an act of faith.

When we sow love, we reap love.

In today’s gospel, Jesus sends out his followers to towns that he is planning to visit.

He tells them, “Don’t carry a walking stick or knapsack; wear no sandals.”

God sends us out all the time to serve people whose needs exceed our capacity.

We serve people experiencing homelessness—even though we have no permanent shelter to offer them.

We serve people who are hungry—even though we don’t have enough for everyone.

We serve people who are sick or lonely or grieving—even though we can only offer them temporary respite.

We serve them anyway because that is what we are called to do.

We bring them a measure of God’s peace—a portion of the shalom that we have from our relationship with Jesus.

We remind those we serve that the Kin-dom of God is near—that, although the peace we offer may be temporary, the peace of God is eternal.

Jesus also said, “I am sending you as lambs in the midst of wolves.”

I will say that this week, I have never felt more like a lamb in the midst of wolves.

I listened to the Director of Elijah’s Promise lament what the future holds for people who are food insecure.

Because, despite all the great work that Elijah’s Promise does and all the generous food pantries in our community, the truth is that for every meal that those great organizations provide, SNAP provides nine.

Or at least it did.

And no amount of fundraising and hard work on the part feeding ministries can make up that deficit.

I listened to colleagues in the Interfaith Alliance and at the city’s Human & Community Services Partners Breakfast lament that people were not accessing services they desperately need because they know ICE is operating in our community and they are afraid.

I listened to community nonprofit leaders and parents of our VBS campers say that children are suffering from anxiety—they are living in a state of fear that their parents will disappear.

I hear all those voices—all that lament—so, as wounded as I am, I will keep on keeping on.

Because, although I have moments when I feel like a lamb, I am also a shepherd.

Jesus made me one.

Jesus said, “feed my sheep”.

Jesus said, “tend my sheep”.

And, God help me, that is what I intend to do.

And I pray, my siblings in Christ, that you will be shepherds at my side.

And may the wolves beware.

May this meditation on God’s word keep our hearts and minds on Christ Jesus. Amen.