Call to Worship
Women of the faith:
We honor you today.
May you grow in the Spirit,
And may we learn from your wisdom.

Unison Prayer
Thank you for our mothers, for our grandmothers, and for every generation of women in our lives: those who gave us life, those who helped us to grow, and those who love us still.  We especially thank you for those who shared their faith with us and who continue to inspire us today.  Thank you, Lord! 

Words of Assurance: Isaiah 66:13, NIV
As a mother comforts her child, so shall I comfort you, says the Lord.

The Lord’s Prayer
Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil; for thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever. Amen.

Opening Song: Keith & Kristen Getty, Moya Brennan, “A Mother’s Prayer”

Scripture Reading: 2 Timothy 1:1-5, NIV
Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, in keeping with the promise of life that is in Christ Jesus, to Timothy, my dear son: Grace, mercy and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord. I thank God, whom I serve, as my ancestors did, with a clear conscience, as night and day I constantly remember you in my prayers. Recalling your tears, I long to see you, so that I may be filled with joy. I am reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also.

Sunday Sermon

We have a very special Coffee Hour today, filled with foods that our mothers and grandmothers made or that remind us of our moms and grandmoms. My contribution is a Mississippi Mud Pie, a recipe I got from my mom and that I now make for my mom. The pie is famous among my volleyball friends, because it won the prize of “highest ranking dessert made by a Christian at a Jewish barbecue.”

Food is one of the strongest connections to our families: the scent, especially the scent of bacon that motivates us to get out of bed, the scent of dinner before it’s ready, or the all-day scent of a holiday meal that takes hours to prepare. The sounds of chopping, mincing, grinding, blending, frying, mixing and pouring. The sight as everything is laid out, and of course the taste.

I would often forget to say “Good morning” to my mom and instead said, “What’s for dinner?” which of course she hated, but knowing what was for dinner affected the sort of day I would have. My favorite meals growing up included upside down meat pie, tuna fondue, and the rare treat of pancakes and sausages for dinner. If I knew they were coming, I could get through anything.

My dad’s mom made a mushroom pork chop that I was unable to duplicate, and I asked my mom for the recipe. She put it on a postcard and sent it to me. The recipe was: Cook pork chop. Pour Campbell’s Cream of Mushroom Soup over it. Eat and enjoy. My mom’s mom made a special kind of cheeseburger I called “Grandma burgers,” although in retrospect that’s not such a great name. She also made an annual vat of sauce filled with meatballs, sausages, pork chops and anything else she could find. “How do you cook it?” I asked once. She said, “a little bit of this, a little bit of that until it tastes right.” That’s pretty much how I cook today.

It’s great to be remembered for your cooking, but even better to be remembered for your faith. This is what Paul recalls when he writes to Timothy. He remembers the sincere faith of Timothy’s mother Eunice and his grandmother Lois, and is confident that the same faith lives in him My mom’s mom was a “super Catholic” who went to mass every morning before breakfast. My mom was a Catholic, then an Episcopalian, then a Methodist, and is now Episcopalian again. Her faith was quiet in the first half of her life and blossomed in the second, when she became a church leader and a Christian poet. Her faith runs deep, and it’s been a joy for me to discover even more of it over the years.

One of the Bible’s greatest unsung heroes is Hannah. You’ve probably heard of her son Samuel, who was the Lord’s first prophet, who anointed Israel’s first king, who had two books of the Bible named after him and who inspired the song “Here I Am, Lord.” But none of this would have been possible without Hannah.

Hannah is one of Elkanah’s two wives. The other wife keeps getting pregnant, but Hannah does not, and the fertile wife keeps making fun of Hannah, “tormenting and humiliating her and making her cry.” Year after year this goes on, but Hannah holds on to her faith. Every year they visit the Temple. One year she’s praying so fervently that the priest comes out and tells her to “stop drinking and sober up.” She tells him she has not been drinking, she’s been “pouring out her troubles to the Lord,” praying that if she has a son, she will dedicate him to God.

When she returns home, she becomes pregnant. God has kept his promise, so she will keep hers. When Samuel is old enough she returns to the Temple, finds the priest and says, “Remember me? I promised God that if he gave me a son, I would dedicate him to the Lord,” and she drops him off to be raised there. We’re not sure what the priest thinks of this. In a sense, she sacrifices her only son, which should sound somewhat familiar. And then she prays. And the prayer is astonishing. It’s a long prayer, so here are the highlights:

No one is holy like the LORD.
The bows of strong soldiers are broken,
but the weak grow strong.
The people who once were well fed
now hire themselves out to get food,
but the hungry are hungry no more.
The Lord kills and restores to life;
he sends people to the world of the dead
and brings them back again.

Centuries before Jesus, she proclaims that the last shall be first and the first shall be last. But here’s the most remarkable thing: she may be the first person in the Bible to talk about resurrection, and she does so with complete confidence. Because of her incredible faith, God has given her a vision of the world to come. God has not blessed a priest with this insight, but a mom.

Now let’s return to the priest. His name is Eli, and he’s got a good heart, but he’s not very effective. He’s pretty burned out, and he lets his sons, who are described as “scoundrels,” get away with horrible things, like stealing the sacrifices that are offered to God and sleeping with the help. Years pass, and it is said that “there were very few messages from the Lord, and visions from him were quite rare.” Samuel is still living in the Temple. One night he hears a voice calling his name. This is the part everybody knows. Three times he runs to Eli, and Eli says, “I didn’t call you; go back to bed.” The third time Eli realizes what’s going on, and instructs Samuel to say, “Here I am, Lord; your servant is listening.” And he receives his first prophecy, which is about the downfall of Eli and his sons.

Again the Lord has worked in mysterious ways. He has sent the revelation to the mom, and the prophecy to the son, and nothing to the priests. To put it another way, in the midst of a patriarchal society, God has chosen a woman and a child to bear his message. And all of this starts with Hannah, a woman who grows up in an abusive household, holds onto her faith, and passes it on to her son, who holds onto his faith despite being surrounded by scoundrels. And God rewards their sincerity and their perseverance. When God looks at Samuel, he sees Hannah. When Paul looks at Timothy, he sees Lois and Eunice. When you look at me, hopefully you see my mom, and her mom, because I am here thanks to generations of female faith.

So now as we prepare to go to Coffee Hour, to celebrate our moms through recipes and food, may we celebrate them even more through our stories and our faith. Or to combine the two: taste and see that the Lord is good. Amen.

Closing Song: JJ Heller, “A Mother Like You”

Benediction
As a mother hen watches over her chicks,
may God watch over you, keeping you safe and protecting you from harm. Amen.

Mother’s Day is this Sunday ~ a day to honor our mothers, grandmothers, and all of the women in our lives! We invite you to celebrate and worship with us this Sunday, May 10 at 10 a.m. Thank you, moms, for all you do!

Call to Worship (Ephesians 3:17-18, Good News Bible abb.)
May God from the wealth of his glory
help you to be strong in your inner selves.
May Christ make his home in your hearts.
May you have your roots and foundation in love,
So that you may have the power to understand
how broad and long, how high and deep is Christ’s love.

Unison Prayer
May we be rooted in our faith.
May our roots extend to others,
and may we be connected by God. Amen.

Words of Assurance: from Psalm 1, Good News Bible
Those who obey the Lord are like trees that grow beside a stream,
that bear fruit at the right time, and whose leaves do not dry up.

The Lord’s Prayer
Our Father,
who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come,
thy will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread;
and forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil;
for thine is the kingdom,
and the power,
and the glory forever.
Amen.

Opening Song: Emily Rose, Bethel Music, “Tend”

Scripture Reading: Jeremiah 17:7-8, Good News Bible
I will bless the person who puts his trust in me. He is like a tree growing near a stream and sending out roots to the water. It is not afraid when hot weather comes, because its leaves stay green; it has no worries when there is no rain; it keeps on bearing fruit.

Sunday Sermon

This week, two dozen women from our church are attending a women’s retreat at Camp Quinipet on Shelter Island. When I started thinking about themes for this week’s sermon, I first considered “Left Behind.” Then I thought about doing a sermon about men, but then I remembered that not all of the women were going on the retreat. Then the Bible study group suggested I talk about the same topic here as they are talking about there, and that made sense. So this is a sermon on being rooted.

What does it mean to be rooted? I grew up in Connecticut, although I’ve spent most of my life in New York. When I said this to someone the other day, he said, “Oh, you’re not from here.” I was actually born in Rhode Island, moved to Ohio, moved to Fairfield CT, then Westport CT, then Trumbull CT, all before finishing 4th grade. Then I went to school in Ohio, then in Georgia, which made me ready for the life of a traveling pastor: four years in Yonkers, three in Westhampton Beach and seven in Lagrangeville before returning to Long Island in 2002.

So where are my roots? You might say Trumbull, but since I lived there my father passed away, my mother and sister and friends moved, the pastors changed, the church changed, the park is surrounded by condominiums, the tiny mall is huge, the mom-and-pop stores turned into Starbucks’s, and as Joni Mitchell sings, “They paved paradise and put up a parking lot.” It brings to mind the ship of Theseus: if you replace a ship, part by part, until the whole ship is different, is it still the same ship?

Geographically, it would be easy to say that I have no roots, unless I take a map and a protractor and draw a hundred mile circle around the place I live now. That’s when I realize that I do have geographic roots, and that the root system runs further than I had imagined. This being said, the roots are not the places, but the people. That’s why the symbol of a family is a family tree ~ but when one adds friends to a family tree, one can see a forest.

In a forest, trees send out roots not only to find nourishment, but to connect with other root systems for mutual support. A tree whose roots run deep and are intertwined with other roots is less likely to fall in a storm. According to Proverbs, “two are better than one, because if one falls, the other can help them up.” In the Apocrypha, Sirach writes, “A loyal friend is like a safe shelter; find one, and you have found a treasure. Nothing else is as valuable; there is no way of putting a price on it. A loyal friend is like a medicine that keeps you in good health.”

Last week we talked about an “epidemic of loneliness.” The opposite of loneliness is connection. One can feel connected to each other in a church; the women on the retreat are building connections; but we are connected to them as well, especially because we’re talking about the same things. Last year I learned that some of the people on the retreat were reading the morning sermon online, so what I’m saying here may already have been read there.

The Biblical theme of rootedness is to be rooted in God: to be nourished by one’s faith, and to connect to others. The branches above the tree are as important as the roots below. King David and Jeremiah both write about a tree near a stream, sending roots to the water. We are that tree. Paul extends the parable: “May you have your roots and foundation in love.” When we do, we receive four promises in the form of four additional parables:

We will not be afraid when hot weather comes; our leaves will stay green;
We will have no worries when there is no rain; we will keep bearing fruit.

Or to paraphrase: no worries, no fear, and a rich and productive life. These are the promises of every motivational speaker; but they are also the promises of God.

Yesterday I lost a caterpillar in my house. Or it may have been an inchworm, or more accurately, a centimeter worm. It was on my pants and I thought it was a small twig and I brushed it off, but just before I brushed it off, it moved. And then it landed on my carpet and I couldn’t find it again. And then I thought, this poor creature, it was just outside and now it’s in the middle of wall-to-wall carpet with no water and no food and it will probably die. Or who knows, maybe a month from now a butterfly will fly out of my basement. The same thing was true last Sunday morning when I noticed all the worms on the parking lot pavement, looking for dirt. Imagine not knowing how to get back to your home.

But the tree that is planted by the stream knows how to survive. It knows where the nourishment is and how to reach it. When we are worried and afraid, we’re not like the caterpillar or the worm, lost in the carpet or the pavement; we’re like the tree by the stream; although to be fair, some of us are stubborn trees or contrary trees or ornery trees and we don’t take advantage of the good things that are right next to us, and by good things I mean family, friends and faith. When need company, we look for the remote; when we need community, we go online. Then hard times come, and we feel parched. Where is the rain? Where is the cool weather? Where is the stream? What did we do wrong?

Jesus tells his disciples, “The seed falling on rocky ground refers to someone who hears the word and at once receives it with joy. But since they have no root, they last only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word, they quickly fall away.” In contrast, the person who has roots is like the good seed, who produces a good crop.

If you don’t have roots, or if your roots are bad, where do you start? Jesus tells his disciples, “if you have the faith of a mustard seed, you can move mountains.” This is a double parable: it means if you only have a little, you can still do a lot; and over time, the little you have will grow.

I’m going to close today with a double parable of my own, or a single parable with two interpretations. Only a few weeks ago, I could see the water from my house. Now I can’t. This is the quickest I have ever seen leaves grow. It tells me how quickly good things can happen, seemingly out of nowhere. The other part of the parable is that even though I can’t see the water, I know it’s still there. It is exactly the same number of steps to the water now as it was when I could see it. But to get there, now I have to take the steps.

Most of us who live on Long Island love the ocean. Otherwise, why would we live here? And I always say to everyone, once the weather is warmer, get to the beach, or to the boat. But the ocean is always there, even in the winter. And God is always there: an endless ocean, a stream of life-giving water, a river of life, a lake of peace, waiting for us to dive in, to be nourished, to be connected and to be fed. May we grow where we are planted. May our seeds sprout and flourish, and may our roots run deep. Amen.

Closing Song: David Crowder Band, “I Am a Seed”