Starting with Scripture

Starting with Scripture: If Only We could See Eachother.

This week’s starting with scripture is going to be a little different. I have been invited to preach at Trinity Lutheran Church in Sunset Park, Brooklyn, this Sunday. So I wanted to use Starting with Scripture as a place to not only explore the gospel and brainstorm Doodles of Devotion, but also to draft my sermon for Sunday. I would love to get your feedback. Please leave me a comment on Patreon. When I preach, I try to consider all of the text from the lectionary. This Sunday, the congregation at Trinity will read the following texts: 1 Samuel 16:1-13, Psalm 23, Ephesians 5:8-14, and John 9:1-41. You should know that I was invited to preach at Trinity because they are celebrating women’s month and wanted to hear a woman’s voice. The texts for this week do not include a single woman. I’m not surprised, because women appear in only a small fraction of biblical stories—about ten percent. Interestingly, when women do appear in the Gospels, they are often portrayed as people of extraordinary faith. The Samaritan woman at the well becomes a preacher. Mary Magdalene becomes the first witness to the resurrection. Again and again, the people society overlooked are the ones who see Jesus most clearly. So why then are there not more stories of women? The books of the Bible were written within cultures where men held most of the positions of authority. Those cultural realities shaped which stories were written down and preserved. But when we look carefully, we still find women whose faith changed the course of the story. So, again, I am not surprised that the texts we read today do not mention women. But maybe that’s why I was called to preach on this particular Sunday to teach the congregation how to look at Scripture from the perspective of a woman. And perhaps in doing so, I can encourage you to look at each other with holy curiosity. So that we can make space, welcome, and affirm those who are different than ourselves. Even though the blind person in this story is a man, as a woman, I can relate to his story, because he is someone who is misunderstood because of his body. Here is someone who was born physically different than other people. And because of his physical differences, he is judged. But he is not judged by God. Jesus tells us, “He was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.” In the end, this gospel makes it clear that those who are more concerned with myths, stereotypes, and law are the ones who are really blind. They are blind to love.  Jesus says, “I came into this world for judgment, so that those who do not see may see and those who do not may become blind.” In this story, there are two kinds of blindness: the man who cannot see, and the people who refuse to see him. Each one of us in this room is different. Each person here was made intentionally by God. And each person in this room knows what it feels like to be othered because of one of these differences. But what if we learn how to see each other? Have you ever heard the term, “I’m not racist, I don’t see color”? Although well-intentioned, it misses the mark. If you don’t see our differences, what is it that you see? Our color, sexuality, culture, language, and yes, our gender, shape our experiences and give each of us a unique perspective of God. We all carry beautiful stories precisely because of our differences. Love is not pretending we are all the same. Love is learning how to see one another clearly. Throughout history, certain bodies have been questioned, controlled, or dismissed—women’s bodies, disabled bodies, queer bodies, bodies that don’t fit expectations. These are just a few examples of the ways people have been misunderstood simply because of who they are. But again and again, the Gospel shows us that Jesus moves toward those bodies, not away from them. He moves towards the blind and those afflicted with leprosy; he moves towards women. What would it mean for us to truly see one another—not through stereotypes or expectations, but through compassion? Maybe it begins with asking ourselves: Whose stories have we misunderstood? Whose lives have we judged too quickly? Whose experiences have we not fully seen? Jesus didn’t heal the blind man simply so he could see the world. He healed him so the world could learn how to see him. And maybe that is the invitation for us today: to open our eyes—not just to the light, but to each other. So that’s my sermon for Sunday. I may change things here or there, maybe add a personal story. But I don’t want to make it too long because I have to translate it into Spanish and say it in both languages. So what does this mean for Doodles of Devotion, and how can I bring this message to life visually? I decided to draw portraits of influential women with disabilities, in honor of Women's History Month. By focusing on these remarkable women, we can celebrate both resilience and diversity, and highlight stories that are often overlooked.

Starting with Scripture: From Darkness to Living Water

The Gospel Reading John 4:5-42 (NIV) > 5 So he came to a town in Samaria called Sychar, near the plot of ground Jacob had given to his son Joseph. 6 Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired as he was from the journey, sat down by the well. It was about noon. > > 7 When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, “Will you give me a drink?” 8 (His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.) > > 9 The Samaritan woman said to him, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.) > > 10 Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.” > > 11 “Sir,” the woman said, “you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? 12 Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his livestock?” > > 13 Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, 14 but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” > > 15 The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water.” > > 16 He told her, “Go, call your husband and come back.” > > 17 “I have no husband,” she replied. > > Jesus said to her, “You are right when you say you have no husband. 18 The fact is, you have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband. What you have just said is quite true.” > > 19 “Sir,” the woman said, “I can see that you are a prophet. 20 Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you Jews claim that the place where we must worship is in Jerusalem.” > > 21 “Woman,” Jesus replied, “believe me, a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. 22 You Samaritans worship what you do not know; we worship what we do know, for salvation is from the Jews. 23 Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and in truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. 24 God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth.” > > 25 The woman said, “I know that Messiah” (called Christ) “is coming. When he comes, he will explain everything to us.” > > 26 Then Jesus declared, “I, the one speaking to you—I am he.” > > 27 Just then his disciples returned and were surprised to find him talking with a woman. But no one asked, “What do you want?” or “Why are you talking with her?” > > 28 Then, leaving her water jar, the woman went back to the town and said to the people, 29 “Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Messiah?” 30 They came out of the town and made their way toward him. > > 31 Meanwhile his disciples urged him, “Rabbi, eat something.” > > 32 But he said to them, “I have food to eat that you know nothing about.” > > 33 Then his disciples said to each other, “Could someone have brought him food?” > > 34 “My food,” said Jesus, “is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work. 35 Don’t you have a saying, ‘It’s still four months until harvest’? I tell you, open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest. 36 Even now the one who reaps draws a wage and harvests a crop for eternal life, so that the sower and the reaper may be glad together. 37 Thus the saying ‘One sows and another reaps’ is true. 38 I sent you to reap what you have not worked for. Others have done the hard work, and you have reaped the benefits of their labor.” > > 39 Many of the Samaritans from that town believed in him because of the woman’s testimony, “He told me everything I ever did.” 40 So when the Samaritans came to him, they urged him to stay with them, and he stayed two days. 41 And because of his words many more became believers. > > 42 They said to the woman, “We no longer believe just because of what you said; now we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this man really is the Savior of the world.” Reflection The story has many similarities and differences to the one we read last week. In last week’s story, Nicodemus came to meet Jesus at night. There is a lot of symbolism in the fact that it happens at night. Some commentators say that Nicodemus was spiritually in the dark, trying to understand what Jesus was explaining to him about the Holy Spirit, eternal life, and faith. Nicodemus, if you remember, was also a religious leader. How could it be, that a religious leader has difficulty understanding what Jesus is describing? It’s not for a lack of literacy or education about scripture. Then could it be for a lack of trust, a lack of faith? This week, instead of someone approaching Jesus, Jesus is the one doing the approaching. It’s Jesus who decides to travel through an area where the Samaritans lived. Mind you, the Samaritans were considered religiously unclean and dangerous, but Jesus decides to go through that area anyway. Jesus stops at the well. Jesus speaks to the woman first, and the scandalous conversation between a Jewish man and a Samaritan woman happens in the daytime. Not just any time of day, but at noon, when the sun is at its highest point in the sky. When these two speak, this Samaritan woman doesn’t take much convincing. She’s never even heard of Jesus before, but here she is, now convinced that he’s a prophet, that he’s the Messiah. She’s so convinced that she even runs to tell other people and bring them to Jesus. She’s not a teacher like Nick. She didn’t know who Jesus was, and now her heart is filled with faith. God calls us as we are. It’s God’s grace that gives us faith. When we read these stories side-by-side, they speak volumes about our own individual faith journeys. Each of us is different, and these stories show two characters who eventually reach their destination, but at their own pace. There is so much more symbolism in the story of the woman at the well. The well is a meeting place where men and women find love, and we find examples of this throughout scripture. But Jesus doesn’t want the Samaritan woman to fall in love with him in a romantic sense. He wants her to fall in love with God. And this is a symbol of the discarded container. The water is no longer necessary after you receive actual living water, and it seems that the discarded container means that she did receive living water after all. There are so many symbols and metaphors throughout this passage that maybe, when I sit down to illustrate doodles of devotion, I can illustrate the metaphors and symbols on one side of the page and the meetings that are typically agreed-upon on the other side of the page. And allow the reader to match the picture to the meaning. I think this would be a really nice way to build upon what we did last week, as the stories build on each other.

Starting with Scripture: Signs, Wind, and Wonder

The Gospel Reading John 3:1-17 (NIV) > 3 Now there was a Pharisee, a man named Nicodemus who was a member of the Jewish ruling council. 2 He came to Jesus at night and said, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God. For no one could perform the signs you are doing if God were not with him.” > > 3 Jesus replied, “Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again.” > > 4 “How can someone be born when they are old?” Nicodemus asked. “Surely they cannot enter a second time into their mother’s womb to be born!” > > 5 Jesus answered, “Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit. 6 Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit. 7 You should not be surprised at my saying, ‘You must be born again.’ 8 The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.” > > 9 “How can this be?” Nicodemus asked. > > 10 “You are Israel’s teacher,” said Jesus, “and do you not understand these things? 11 Very truly I tell you, we speak of what we know, and we testify to what we have seen, but still you people do not accept our testimony. 12 I have spoken to you of earthly things and you do not believe; how then will you believe if I speak of heavenly things? 13 No one has ever gone into heaven except the one who came from heaven—the Son of Man.  14 Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, 15 that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.” > > 16 For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. 17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. Reflection This text was triggering for me. When I read verse 3, “Jesus replied, ‘Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again,’” I cringed. It reminded me of a time in my life when I felt pressured to believe, to accept, and to proclaim my faith out loud, without being invited to explore or ask the questions that would help my faith grow. If you get anything from me, through Starting with Scripture or Doodles of Devotion, I hope it is this: faith is a lifelong journey. And questions are not the enemy of faith; they are often the doorway to it. Nicodemus is such a beautiful example of someone on a faith journey. And here’s what I love: Jesus engages him in conversation. Jesus gently leads and teaches him. He does not rebuke him for his questions, his confusion, or his lack of understanding. He certainly does not pressure him. In this episode, I’m going to explore who Nicodemus is, what “signs” are in the Gospel of John, and what Jesus is saying about faith and the Spirit. And finally, I’ll brainstorm how to illustrate these ideas for families in this week’s Doodles of Devotion. If you have ideas about what I could draw or what questions I might ask families, please share them in the comments. I would truly welcome your suggestions. Who Is Nicodemus? Nicodemus is a Pharisee, a member of a Jewish religious movement devoted to interpreting and faithfully living out the Law. In the Gospels, Pharisees are often portrayed as being in tension with Jesus. So the fact that Nicodemus seeks Jesus out at night and even acknowledges that Jesus is from God is significant. It’s even rebellious and dangerous. What are Signs? Nicodemus says, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God. For no one could perform the signs you are doing if God were not with him.” Notice that word: signs. The Gospel of John consistently uses “signs” instead of “miracles.” That’s important. In seminary, we just learned about the use of the words signs versus Miracles in the Gospel of John, and I’m excited to be able to share this with you. In antiquity, Jesus was not the only one who performed miracles. Moses, Elijah, and even the apostles are all described as performing miracles. In Exodus, the magicians of Pharaoh even replicate some of Moses’ signs. So if people other than Jesus can perform miracles too, then miracles by themselves cannot be the decisive proof of who Jesus is. A miracle, therefore, is a sign that points beyond itself. It invites interpretation. Cool huh? It is one thing to say, “Something extraordinary happened.” It is another to say, “This reveals who God is.” Moving from event to meaning, from “this happened” to “this reveals God’s presence”, requires faith. Jesus recognizes the seed of Faith in Nicodemus and helps his faith grow. Born of Water and Spirit Jesus responds to Nicodemus by saying, “Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again.” Nicodemus takes this literally and is understandably confused. How can someone enter their mother’s womb a second time? Jesus clarifies: “No one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and Spirit.” From a Lutheran perspective, we hear echoes of baptism here, water and Spirit together. New birth is not something we achieve; it is something God does. Faith itself is gift. We are born of the Spirit not through our effort or intellectual mastery, but through God’s gracious action. Jesus then uses the image of the wind: “The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.” It’s such a beautiful analogy. The wind is real. We experience it. We see its effects. But we cannot control it or fully explain it. Faith is like that. The Spirit moves. We experience transformation, trust, courage, love, but we cannot manufacture them. In Lutheran theology, this protects us from turning faith into a performance. Faith is not something we prove. It is something the Spirit awakens. Poor Nicodemus still struggles to understand. And yet Jesus continues teaching. He does not dismiss him. Then comes one of the most beloved passages in Scripture: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son…” And notice, God did not send the Son to condemn the world, but to save it. That is pure Gospel. Grace first. Love first. Salvation as a gift. At this point, we don’t know exactly where Nicodemus stands. His understanding is incomplete. But that doesn’t disqualify him. Faith can begin in curiosity. It can begin with questions. It can begin at night as a rebellious act. Later in the Gospel of John, we see Nicodemus again. This time, he is defending Jesus during the day. He tries to convince the Pharisees that Jesus has the right to a fair hearing. After the Crucifixion, Nicodemus shows up again to help prepare Jesus’ body for burial. Nicodemus keeps showing up, and his faith continues to grow. Illustrating the Invisible So now I’m asking: how do I illustrate this for families? Not just for children, but for multigenerational households, for seniors, for people who learn differently, for anyone who needs something tactile and visual to enter the story. Jesus talks about wind, something invisible yet powerful. That reminds me of the artist Andy J. Pizza, who once created illustrations of invisible things: hope, gravity, time, echoes, dreams, and so much more. Things we believe in and experience, even though we can’t see them directly or often even understand them completely. Perhaps the challenge this week is to visualize the invisible. What does faith look like? What about the Spirit or grace? These are difficult to depict, which is likely why I feel both excited and a bit nervous. Please pray for me. I believe this creative experiment can expand on Jesus’ analogy of the wind, Spirit, and faith.

Starting with Scripture: Our Own Wilderness

Gospel Reading: Matthew 4:1-11 (NIV) > 4 Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. 2 After fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry. 3 The tempter came to him and said, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.” > > 4 Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’” > > 5 Then the devil took him to the holy city and had him stand on the highest point of the temple. 6 “If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down. For it is written: > > “‘He will command his angels concerning you, >     and they will lift you up in their hands, >     so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’” > > 7 Jesus answered him, “It is also written: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’” > > 8 Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. 9 “All this I will give you,” he said, “if you will bow down and worship me.” > > 10 Jesus said to him, “Away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve him only.’” > > 11 Then the devil left him, and angels came and attended him. So in our gospel reading, Jesus is baptized, and then the Spirit leads him into the wilderness. For 40 days and 40 nights, Jesus was alone, hungry, and tempted. But before we talk about temptation, I want to talk a little bit about the wilderness and what it was for Jesus, so that, in turn, we can reflect on what the wilderness is for us today. Jesus lived under the Roman occupation, and that was a world with oppressive taxation, violence, economic disparity, and even government-sanctioned murder. So when the devil tempts Jesus to turn stones into bread, we might ask what is really being offered. The devil is tempting Jesus to take the easy way. Feed yourself. Forget the system. Forget those who suffer because of the system. It would have been easier for Jesus to secure his own personal survival without confronting the empire. But guess what? Jesus doesn't sell out. As I prepare for Starting With Scriptures and for illustrating doodles of devotion, I sometimes read the queer Bible commentary, and I'm so happy I did, because it framed this story in a way that really resonated with me and helped me understand it more deeply. The commentary compared Jesus' baptism to a queer person's coming out and coming into one's own identity. So for a queer person, that means shedding internalized homophobia and shame, accepting God's love, and embracing the truth that queer folks are also made in God's image. Wilderness then becomes those moments when that beloved identity is tested. So for queer folks like me, wilderness can look like being told to shrink, to be quieter, to be less visible, less flamboyant, less butch, or less honest about who you love. It can take the form of policies that erase dignity, and even put pressure to be more acceptable. And I'm not going to lie, I have been in wilderness moments when I choose the easier road. I made myself small, and I stayed quiet. And I noticed that those moments have suffocated me and diminished me into something less than who God intended for me to be. But there were also moments in my personal wilderness when I stood up for myself and for other queer folk I have never met and probably will never meet. I'm thinking about a very specific and real moment in which I disagreed with a person in a position of religious authority, a pastor. And I said, gently, calmly, and assertively, "I disagree. I believe my sexuality is not a sin. I believe the gospel tells us that everyone belongs." I set boundaries, and I walked away on my own terms. That was wilderness, and it was holy. We all need bread to live, but the way we attain that bread is also important. We are meant to live in love, even when love is costly. But that second temptation is really important as well. When the devil asks Jesus to throw himself off the highest point of the temple, and Jesus responds, do not put the Lord your God to the test. And what that means to me in this context is it's okay to choose our own personal safety and not to test God. As I prepare doodles of devotion for families and groups with children, I think about what the wilderness means to a child, and my mind immediately goes to children in detention centers living in fear. They are in wilderness. What are they being tempted to do? Lose hope? Dim their light? Forget they are beloved? And what about us? Are we tempted by distraction, comfort, privilege? We are in this wilderness alongside them. Lent is not about purposefully suffering to prove our strength. It is about honestly acknowledging what tempts us and trying our hardest to choose love. And I know that that can be scary. But remember that God loves us and is with us, and we are all beloved. Amen.

Starting with Scripture: Salt, Light, and Why Context Matters

Gospel Reading: Matthew 5:13-20 (NIV) > 13 “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot. > > 14 “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. 15 Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven. > > 17 “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. 18 For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished. 19 Therefore anyone who sets aside one of the least of these commands and teaches others accordingly will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. 20 For I tell you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven. Reflection: Our gospel reading is a continuation of the Sermon on the Mount, following the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:13–20). Here, Jesus turns to the multitude who came to listen to him and says something surprising: you are the salt of the earth and the light of the world. He also tells them that their righteousness must exceed that of the Pharisees. What does it all mean? I just started four Bible classes. Please pray for me, because I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into. It’s a lot of reading. But I bring that up because I’m learning the difference between eisegesis and exegesis, and this text is a great place to explore the difference between the two. In eisegesis, we assign meaning to the text based on our own assumptions, experiences, or expectations. In exegesis, we slow down and look at the historical context, the original language, and the world behind the text to piece together what Jesus may have been saying to the people who first heard these words. Then—and only then—do we begin to ask how that message speaks into our lives today. How we read Scripture matters because it shapes how we live it. In this Gospel passage, Jesus tells the multitude that they are the salt of the earth and the light of the world. What would that have meant to them? And what might it mean for us? Let’s start with salt. Humans need salt to live. In moderation, our bodies need sodium and chloride to carry out basic life functions. Today, we can walk into a grocery store and choose from a wide variety of salts without much thought. In antiquity, however, salt was essential and difficult to obtain. It was used not only to season food but also to preserve it—there was no refrigeration. Salt was highly valuable. Roman soldiers were sometimes paid in salt. Now let’s look at light. In the ancient world, without electricity, people relied on the sun or the light of a flame to work, to travel, and to stay safe. Darkness wasn’t cozy—it was dangerous. Today, we flip a switch. We install blackout curtains because we have too much light. So while we often take salt and light for granted, in Jesus’ time they were matters of life and death. Another interesting insight is this: salt and light don’t depend on us—we depend on them. And yet, Jesus uses these images to describe people. When Jesus says that the crowd is the salt of the earth and the light of the world, he is affirming their worth. Each person matters. Each person has value. And more than that, they matter to one another. Life depends on shared presence, care, and responsibility. The final part of this passage turns to the Pharisees. The Pharisees were deeply devoted to the law and to living faithfully before God. Jesus’ critique is not about a lack of religious commitment, but about how righteousness is understood and practiced. Is righteousness measured only by rule-following? Or is it revealed through justice, mercy, and love of neighbor? So when Jesus says that our righteousness must exceed that of the Pharisees, does he mean that we are called to a deeper commitment to justice than the systems and leaders around us? I hope so. So what does all of this mean for Doodles of Devotion? I want to find ways to share this with families visually and creatively. I’m imagining an illustration that highlights the importance of salt and light, how our access to these everyday necessities has changed over the centuries, and how those changes shape the way we hear Jesus’ words. Maybe this issue includes exegesis and eisegesis as vocabulary words—introduced gently and playfully. I’d love to hear your thoughts. What kinds of visuals, questions, or activities do you think families would enjoy engaging with as they explore this text together? Source: https://mypastoralponderings.com/2023/02/03/salt-light-my-sermon-on-matthew-513-20/ [https://mypastoralponderings.com/2023/02/03/salt-light-my-sermon-on-matthew-513-20/]