Brooklyn McBride
Story for All Ages
Adapted from Illustrated Ministry
At this time, I want to take a special moment to bless all of my friends who are starting a new school year.
How many questions do you think Jesus asked in his whole life?
How many times do you think Jesus asked a question in the Bible, according to the four Gospels?
Jesus asked a lot of questions, sometimes as a teacher and sometimes as a curious listener. The Bible records over 300 questions of Jesus! Jesus asked questions like: How many loaves do you have? Why are you afraid? Who has touched my clothes? Who do you say that I am?
Curiosity is important in school, in church, at home, and at play. Curious questions help us learn and investigate mysteries. We can practice being like Jesus by asking questions and showing curiosity. And we can practice responding warmly to curiosity. Imagine you are responding to Jesus!
We love to live with a lot of curiosity – that’s why I always encourage my students in Sunday School to ask “wondering questions.” This year, I want to remind you that you can take that curiosity to school with you. Now, are you ready for the blessing?
A blessing is something you receive, so can you open your hands like you are ready to receive a special gift? As I speak, imagine the words dancing, floating, and fluttering all around. Watch them as they land on your hands
and your backpack. If you want to receive it, take the blessing and put it in your heart as you place your hands on your chest.
Children of God and curious thinkers, be filled with questions about yourself and the world around you. Be blessed with discernment as you decide when, where, and to whom you will ask your many questions. And when there is no answer to be found, or none that satisfy, cling to the greatest promise of all:
God loves you and will never leave you. Amen.
Now, I invite all of you to join me in the Spirit of prayer.
Creator God, you gave us incredible bodies and brains that grow and develop with time. Because of your vibrant imagination, we all grow and develop differently and diversely. You made us so that, whether in or out of the classroom, we are always learning.
Today, we celebrate a return to the classroom. We pray each person everywhere will be appreciated for the ways they learn. In your eyes, every kind of learning is acceptable and good. Bless everyone as they learn at their own pace; bless visual learners, auditory learners, kinesthetic learners, and social learners; bless people who learn with accommodations for disability, and bless people who learn best with medication. Every learner is precious to you and precious to this community. Protect, encourage, and inspire our scholars as they embark on this year’s learning adventure. Amen.
Sermon
Good morning! My name is Brooklyn, and I am so excited to be with you this morning. Before I get into it, I want to share some of who I am with you –
I come to you from Plymouth Congregational UCC in Fort Collins, where I am the Director of Christian Formation. I spend a lot of my time thinking about what formation is – how we shape who we are and what we love – and I especially work with children and youth on shaping the future of the Church.
I am working on getting ordained into the United Church of Christ. I recently graduated from Iliff where I focused on pastoral and spiritual care, especially with womanist and liberationist pastoral theology.
But I grew up in more conservative and evangelical Christian spaces in Fort Collins. I have three younger sisters. I have always been a super responsible eldest daughter, a “good Christian girl” – a nurturer, a caregiver, and a girl who was taught that women couldn’t be spiritual leaders because they weren’t as strong or as serious as men. And God was a male.
So, when I was invited to come here and explore the idea of the Divine Feminine with you through the lens of Mary Magdalene, I had all sorts of feelings about it. Mostly, I was nervous. Nervous because I am new to preaching. Nervous because I am new to the ideas of Divine Feminine. And nervous because I haven’t spent much time with Mary Magdalene. So, I turned to this famous story of her from the gospel of John –
Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb…
Now. I cry a lot. Just last week, I cried while I was driving to work because I was upset that it was a Tuesday. That’s a true story. I think crying is powerful and healing and necessary. We know that Jesus cried.
And here, we have Mary, grieving that her beloved Jesus is dead and that his body has been stolen, and she is crying. She bends over, the weight of her whole world bearing her down, and she looks into the tomb…
and she saw two angels in white sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying…
Maybe that is Divine Feminine. The crying. The angels. The weight of the world can’t keep us from seeing God. Except when Jesus himself comes to talk to her, she doesn’t recognize him at first. And then he asks two of his three hundred questions –
“Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?”
When Jesus calls her by her name, she recognizes him. And she calls him Teacher. And she tries to embrace him. Maybe that is Divine Feminine. The intimacy. The love. The nurturing.
Jesus said to her, “Do not touch me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’ ” Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord,” and she told them that he had said these things to her.
She went and preached. Preaching, really, is just announcing the Good News. Preaching can sneak up on us. I work with kids and youth, and I promise you that I have heard the best sermons of my life from their questions and discussions – the Sunday School room is just as holy as the pulpit.
So here is Mary, weeping and preaching. I cry a lot. I talk a lot too. And I realize there is probably a sexist joke to be made here about women and crying and talking. But now we have this story from the Gospel of Mary –
The disciples grieved bitterly, shedding many tears and saying: “How are we supposed to go out preaching to the rest of the world, proclaiming the gospel of the Kingdom of the Son of Man? If they did not spare him, then what will become of us?”
So here’s a group of men, in their grieving, crying and talking. I wonder if men maybe – probably – need to do some more crying. Maybe less talking (I’m kidding!!!), but more crying. (I should’ve warned you about my sense of humor.)
In all seriousness, thinking about Divine Feminine is also an invitation to expand or even deconstruct traditional ideas about masculine, patriarchal divinity. Divine Feminine is an invitation to transcend the binary. God is both and neither. God – Divinity, Holy, and Sacred – is too much for our boxes. And God is big enough for all of our diversity.
In my womanist and liberationist training, I learned that no one is free until everyone is free. And as a spiritual caregiver, I want everyone to see the way they reflect and carry the Divine within themselves.
Then Mary rose up. She embraced them all, kissing them tenderly and began to speak to her brothers and sisters: “Through him, we too can become fully human.”
Maybe that’s Divine Feminine. The vulnerability. The full humanity. The connection. The gentle modeling of how to move forward as preachers of the Good News of Jesus the Christ.
Saying these things, Mary turned their hearts inward toward the Good, and they began to wrestle with the meaning of the Saviour's words and to discuss his sayings.
Mary made them a bunch of weeping preachers, too. They wept, they found the Good, and they wrestled within themselves and in community with each other, and we know they went forward to change their world. I wonder what
role the Divine Feminine played in shaping who they were and how they followed Jesus.
I read a book by Anna Carter Florence, a Presbyterian minister and professor of preaching at Columbia Theological Seminary. About Mary, she wrote:
“Mary never meant to start preaching. She’d gone to the tomb to weep, and that was it… It doesn’t sound like anything a preacher would do to prepare a sermon, but after reading this story, maybe we should think about it. A preacher might start by just crying. Go to the tomb of what the empire has murdered, and lament.”
At this point, I would like to invite us to go to the tomb. To do that, I am borrowing a guided meditation written by Sue Pickering, an Anglican priest and spiritual director.
“In preparation for this guided meditation, you are invited to get into a comfortable position, to take some slow, easy breaths, and, when you are ready, to close your eyes. Remember that you don’t need to struggle to make something happen. Just let images form if they will or notice an inner impression instead. Feel free at any time during the process to stop if you do not feel comfortable going on. Before we begin we pray:
God who leads us from darkness into light, from bondage into freedom, send your Holy Spirit to surround, protect, and guide us as we enter into the mystery of your work of grace in our lives. Amen.
So let us begin… take a moment to settle into silence and to allow your mind to become still. If distractions come, acknowledge them but set
them ‘on the back burner’ for the time being, so you can pay attention to the present work of the Spirit in your life.
I invite you to imagine a cave… it could be one you have visited or own that you have heard of… but this cave is special to you and you alone… take some time to allow that cave to take shape for you.
You realize that the entrance to his cave is blocked by a large stone – keeping you from seeing what is inside.
You become aware that this cave holds something which God wants to bring to life. Perhaps the cave holds a ‘dead’ talent which needs to see the light of day; or maybe there is a new area of ministry or service which ‘scares you to death’ and which you have thrust into the dark recesses of your mind; maybe there is something about yourself which you thought was ‘dead and buried’ but which God wants to heal; perhaps the cave holds all sorts of new possibilities.
As you become aware of the cave, you also become aware that Jesus is standing outside with you. How do you feel as you realize you are not alone?
Jesus looks at you and there is immeasurable love in his eyes as he says, “My beloved, roll away the stone.”
You look at the stone, then at Jesus, then back to the stone. You take a step towards it… How do you feel? What is going through your mind? You look at Jesus again, as if you hope he will remove the stone for you, but he remains loving you from a distance, knowing you must make this move for yourself.
If you are afraid of approaching the cave, turn and talk to Jesus about your fear. Then, continue with the process… otherwise just stop at this
point and take your feelings or questions to your reflection time this afternoon.
So… you begin to roll the stone away…
You are surprised how smoothly it slides away to reveal the entrance. You step back and wait with Jesus beside you to see what comes forth…
Once you have seen what emerges and have begun to explore it, you might like to talk to Jesus about what has happened. Together consider what it might mean for you; whether it is an invitation somewhere; what might be the next step.”
I participated in this meditation just a few days ago as part of a spiritual retreat. And I did NOT want to touch that stone. I am too tired. I am not strong enough. And maybe whatever is in there is supposed to stay hidden. But then I felt that nothing is supposed to stay hidden.
Maybe that’s Divine Feminine. Truth-telling. Courage. Weeping. Preaching. Being fully human. Things Jesus never shied away from – things we see in Mary.
Anna Carter Florence wraps up her thoughts on Mary by saying this –
“Maybe preaching, whatever it is, starts with Mary. Maybe she’s the one we should be looking for. After all, she was Jesus’ first choice to preach the Easter sermon.”
Today, I am here with you, wrestling with the idea of Divine Feminine, practicing vulnerability, showing you that I weep and I preach. And as followers of Jesus, I hope we might find our fully human, fully alive selves when we look into the tomb. Amen.
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