Sunday, October 27, 2019

Perspective: Spiritual Armaments

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.
Comments are always welcomed.
If you find these thoughts helpful, please share.


Spiritual Armaments

Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.  For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.

Ephesians 6:11-12 (NRSV)


Ready yourselves, ready yourselves
Let us shine the light of Jesus in the darkest night
Ready yourselves, ready yourselves
May the powers of darkness tremble as our praises rise


From "Until the Whole World Hears" by Casting Crowns


St. Paul uses some militant imagery toward the end of his letter to the church in Ephesus to describe the struggles that followers of Jesus Christ face in the world.  He uses this militant imagery in a rather interesting way, because, as he points out, the battle we face is not the type we generally associate with such images.  He writes that "our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places."

If we follow Christ, then people are not our enemies.  Jesus teaches us that to love God is to love our neighbors as well,1 and He teaches us to love not only the neighbors we consider friendly but also those we would consider our enemies.2  Since we tend not to love someone we would regard as an enemy, He is basically telling us not to regard other people as our enemies.  Our enemies are not people but rather the insidious, invisible forces that oppress people and pit people against one another.  These evil forces include both the things that torment us individually and also the demonic systems of injustice at work in the world.

The battle we face is spiritual in nature, and for spiritual battles we need spiritual armaments.  Paul instructs us to "take up the whole armor of God, so that [we] may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm."  He goes on to describe the types of armaments we will need for battle.3

The Greek word Paul uses to describe our spiritual armaments, which is translated into English as the whole armor, is panoplia, which was originally the name for a complete set of armaments used by ancient Grecian soldiers.4  We typically associate armor with protection, but not all of the armaments Paul describes are defensive in nature.  That said, I wonder if maybe we should be speaking of the "armaments of God" as opposed to the "armor of God."  Perhaps Paul is suggesting that, as followers of Christ, we are not meant to remain on the defensive in our battle against the forces of evil.

Four of the armaments Paul lists are defensive: truth which is compared to a belt about the waist, righteousness which is compared to a breastplate, salvation which is compared to a helmet, and faith which is compared to a shield that can be used to deflect whatever is hurled at us.

The other two armaments on Paul's list enable us to go on the offensive.  For mobility, Paul encourages us to clad our feet with whatever will prepare us to transport the Good News of God's peace.  For a weapon, Paul instructs us to arm ourselves with the "the word of God" which he calls "sword of the Spirit."  I believe that the "sword" of which Paul speaks is not the Bible itself but rather any prophetic message from God given by the Holy Spirit, of which the Bible contains many.  We fight through prophecy and not through violence.  We fight against fear with a Gospel of hope and peace, and we fight against systems of injustice with prophetic messages of liberation.

Jesus once said, "Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword."5  If you thought that following Jesus would make your life easier, think again.  Following Jesus means loving all people, and loving all people puts us into conflict with the forces that oppress people.  We need not fear the battle, for God offers us what we need to fight.


Notes:
  1. Matthew 22:37-40
  2. Matthew 5:43-48
  3. Ephesians 6:13-17 (NRSV)
  4. Mirriam-Webster Dictionary: "Panoply"
  5. Matthew 10:34 (NRSV)
The image of the Spartan warrior is public domain.

Sunday, October 20, 2019

Introspection: No Longer Untouchable

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.
Comments are always welcomed.
If you find these thoughts helpful, please share.


No Longer Untouchable

A leper came to [Jesus] begging him, and kneeling he said to him, "If you choose, you can make me clean."  Moved with pity, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, "I do choose.  Be made clean!"  Immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean.

Mark 1:40-42 (NRSV)


Unlock your heart
Drop your guard
No one's left to stop you now

From "Anywhere" by Evanescence


In the Gospels we read that, one day early in Jesus' ministry, a man with leprosy approached Jesus.  He knelt down before Him and said, "If you choose, you can make me clean."  Jesus, moved by compassion, reached out to the leper, touched him, and said, "I do choose.  Be made clean."  At that very moment, the man was healed of his leprosy.

This story is seemingly straightforward.  It attests to Jesus' power over things like diseases that oppress humanity.  That said, I think that there are some things happening in this story we might tend to overlook.

Nowadays, the word leprosy describes a specific bacterial infection which is also known as Hansen's disease.  Biblically speaking, the word leprosy is a catch-all term for a number of different skin conditions.  Whether or not these conditions were actually contagious, they were treated as though they were contagious.  People with leprosy were considered unclean, and people believed that coming into contact with someone with leprosy would make them unclean as well.  According to the Book of Leviticus, people with leprosy were required to live outside of town away from people, to wear torn clothing and disheveled hair so that they could be easily recognized, and to announce their uncleanness so that people knew to keep their distance from them.1

In Jesus' day, having leprosy was a stigmatizing and isolating experience.

People with leprosy bore a social stigma.  The word stigma is defined as "a mark of disgrace associated with a particular circumstance, quality, or person."2  The related word stigmata describes the wounds Jesus received when He went through the humiliating death of crucifixion.  A stigma is essentially the shame one is forced to bear for something bad that happened in one's life.  In the Google Dictionary, the example sentence accompanying the definition of stigma is as follows: "The stigma of having gone to prison will always be with me."3

Social stigmas exist because of lies that society believes about certain groups of people.  These stigmas become internalized when stigmatized people start believing the lies that are told about them.

Lepers bore a stigma that made them untouchable.

So often, when we read about Jesus' miraculous healings, we are so focused on the extraordinary aspects of the healings that we overlook the ordinary aspects.  Don't be so fixated on Jesus' power that you miss what Jesus did when He healed the man with leprosy.  He made it a point to touch him.  I doubt that, as a miracle worker, Jesus had to touch the man in order to heal him.  I suspect that He could have waved his hand over him or simply stood at a distance and commanded him to be healed.4


What I find fascinating about Jesus' healing the leper is that Jesus touched a supposedly untouchable man in order to heal him what made him untouchable.  Apparently, He was not at all concerned about becoming unclean, unlike most of the people of His day.  I suspect that, even if Jesus' touch didn't clear up the man's skin condition, the man would have still experienced some kind of healing that day.  A lack of physical touch can be damaging to a person's mental health.  One researcher has even called touch "a sort of species recognition," meaning that a lack of human touch is literally dehumanizing.5  If nothing else, because of Jesus' touch, the man with leprosy would have known that he was not untouchable as society had told him.

We experience healing when the lies we've believed about ourselves are proven wrong.  Pursuing this kind of healing requires not only faith but also some vulnerability.

The supposedly untouchable man had to make himself vulnerable to be healed of what made him untouchable.  The religious rules of the day required that the leper keep his distance from people, but, in order to be healed, he had to take a risk by breaking the rules and approaching Jesus.  When he approached Jesus, he said, "Lord, if you choose, you can make me clean."  The man with leprosy was surely aware of the possibility that Jesus might say, "You are unclean.  Stay away from me!"  Instead, Jesus reached out, touched the man, and said, "I do choose.  Be made clean."

Being healed of the lies we believe about ourselves requires some vulnerability on our part.  For example, if rejection in your past has caused you to believe that you are for some reason unlovable, then the path to healing is to drop your guard and to give others the opportunity to see you and love you.  Though you open yourself up to further rejection, people just might be more accepting than you expect them to be.

For many years, I have believed lies about myself.  In fact, I've actually used the word leper in the past to describe how I think some people see me.  As I've noted previously, when I sit down in a coffee shop and someone sitting near me just happens to leave soon afterward, I tend to jump to the conclusion that she left because of me.

A couple of months ago, on a late Tuesday afternoon, I arrived at a bookstore as it started raining.  I purchased a coffee at the cafe, and sat down at a table beside a front window so that I could watch the rain as I wrote in my journal and drank my coffee.  A few minutes later, the woman at the next table, whom I was facing, stood up and began looking for another seat.  I had made the mistake of glancing at her once or twice, so I assumed that she must have left because of me.  I wanted to crawl into a hole and die, so to speak.

I then remembered something that made me realize how ridiculous my thinking was.  Just a few days earlier, I went contra dancing for the first time in several years.  That evening, I danced all eleven called dances, and I had a different partner for every dance.  Not only did eleven different women allow me to be in close proximity to them and to look at them, they actually touched me and allowed me to touch them.  They must not have found me too creepy or repulsive if they were willing to dance with me.

It then occurred to me that the woman at the cafe probably started looking for another seat so that she could sit near an electrical outlet.  She probably needed to recharge her laptop or her phone.  After all, wall sockets cannot be installed in floor-to-ceiling windows.

I've gone dancing five times in the last few months, and I think the experience has been healing for me.  Asking someone to dance requires vulnerability because she might refuse.  Not every woman I asked to dance accepted my invitation, but very rarely have I ended up sitting a dance out.  If we want to be healed of the lies we believe about ourselves, we have to put ourselves in a position to have those lies disproven.  It's scary, because such situations are the same ones we fear will confirm the lies, but I'm not sure there's any other path to healing.  The reward will be worth the risk.


Notes:
  1. Leviticus 13:45-46
  2. Google Dictionary: "stigma"
  3. ibid.
  4. See Matthew 8:5-13.
  5. Paula Cocozza.  "No hugging: are we living through a crisis of touch?The Guardian, 03/07/2018.
Healing of the Leper was painted by Niels Larsen Stevns in 1913.

Sunday, October 13, 2019

Sermon: Home in Exile

Delivered at McBee Chapel United Methodist Church in Conestee, South Carolina on October 13, 2019

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.
Comments are always welcomed.
If you find these thoughts helpful, please share.


Home in Exile

Audio Version



These are the words of the letter that the prophet Jeremiah sent from Jerusalem to the remaining elders among the exiles, and to the priests, the prophets, and all the people, whom Nebuchadnezzar had taken into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon...  Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce.  Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease.  But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare...

For thus says the Lord: Only when Babylon's seventy years are completed will I visit you, and I will fulfill to you my promise and bring you back to this place.  For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.  Then when you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you.  When you search for me, you will find me; if you seek me with all your heart, I will let you find me, says the Lord, and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you, says the Lord, and I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile.

Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7, 10-14 (NRSV)


I found my home in Babylon
Here in exile

From “Maranatha” by Pádraig Ó Tuama


The 1939 musical, The Wizard of Oz was not the first film to feature the use of technicolor, but the way that technicolor is used is one of the things that make the film unforgettable.  The protagonist Dorothy Gale, who is portrayed by Judy Garland, lives on a farm in Kansas with her aunt and uncle.  On a day that just keeps getting worse, Dorothy longs to escape to a land far away – “somewhere,” one might say, “over the rainbow.”  A tornado approaches, and, when Dorothy cannot get into the cellar, she takes shelter in her bedroom.  There she is knocked unconscious.  When Dorothy emerges from the house, she finds herself in the strange and magical Land of Oz.  The film, which has been shown in black and white up to this point, is now shown in brilliant color.  Dorothy says to her dog, “Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore.”1

If the story of the people of Judah was made into a film, there would be no transition from bleak monochrome to vibrant color when the people find themselves in a land far away.  In fact, the opposite would be much more appropriate.  By the river in Babylon, the people of Judah sat, lamenting the destruction of Jerusalem and seething with rage against their oppressors.  Their captors mockingly urged them to sing the songs of their homeland, but they had already hung up their harps on the willow trees, vowing to never play them again.2  They had lost everything.




Dark days have descended upon the Kingdom of Judah.  With the capture of King Jehoahaz in 609 BC, the kingdom became subservient to Egypt.  Pharaoh Necho II installed Jehoahaz's brother Eliakim as a puppet king, changed his name to Jehoiakim, and forced him to pay tribute, which resulted in high taxes for the people.3 4  A few years later, after a major victory against the Egyptians, King Nebuchadnezzar II of Babylon attacked Jerusalem.  For the sake of the city, Jehoiakim turned against Egypt and began paying tribute to Babylon instead.  In 601 BC, Nebuchadnezzar's attempt to invade Egypt was thwarted, emboldening a number of nations to rebel.  Jehoiakim likewise stopped paying tribute, and Nebuchadnezzar responded by laying siege to Jerusalem.  Jehoiakim died during the siege, and his eighteen year old son Jehoiachin succeeded him as king.5 6

In 597 BC, only three months after Jehoiachin ascended the throne, he surrendered to Nebuchadnezzar.  The Babylonians plundered the temple and deported thousands of residents of Jerusalem to Babylon, including most of the royal family, all government officials, all skilled workers, and all soldiers.  Only the poorest of the poor remained in the city.  Nebuchadnezzar installed Jehoiachin's uncle Hamutal as the puppet king of Judah and changed his name to Zedekiah.7

Still in Jerusalem, the prophet Jeremiah begins wearing a yoke on his neck around King Zedekiah and other dignitaries to symbolize the figurative yoke that Nebuchadnezzar has placed on Judah and other nations.  He warns them that, if they rebel against Babylon, they will face certain destruction.  Soon afterward, a self-proclaimed prophet named Hananiah removes the yoke from Jeremiah's neck and breaks it in front of the people.  He declares that, within two years, God will break the yoke the king of Babylon has placed on Judah and that the people who have been deported to Babylon will be able to return home.8  Jeremiah knows that Hananiah is a fraud, that God will not grant them victory if they rebel against Babylon, and that the deportees from Judah will not be permitted to return for several decades.

Hananiah, with his false claims, has given the people remaining in Jerusalem a false hope that, within a couple of years, everything will return to normal.  Perhaps other false prophets are making similar claims among the people deported to Babylon.  They might be tempted to put their lives on hold and to bide their time until they have the opportunity to return home.  It would not be such a bad plan, as long as they can be absolutely certain that they will return to their homeland relatively soon.

But what if the supposed prophets among them are wrong?  What if the people of Judah will not be returning home within the next couple of years?  What if their lives will not be returning to normal anytime soon?  Then what?

On behalf of God, Jeremiah writes a letter to the deportees to let them know that they will be in Babylon a lot longer than they might have been led to believe.  He encourages them to not put their lives on hold but to instead adjust to their circumstances and carry on with their lives.  He instructs them,
Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce.  Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease.  But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.
Basically, Jeremiah encourages his readers to do the kind of things they would be doing if they had not been deported to Babylon - to make a living, to start families, and to work for the common good.

Jeremiah continues, “For thus says the Lord: Only when Babylon's seventy years are completed will I visit you, and I will fulfill to you my promise and bring you back to this place.”  Though the people of Judah are stuck in Babylon for the foreseeable future, Babylon will someday fall, and the people of Judah will eventually be allowed to return to their homeland.  If they do not carry on with their lives and start families in Babylon, they will die out, and there will be nobody to return to their homeland.

Jeremiah writes his letter at the beginning of a time in Jewish history that is often described as exile.  In one sense, exile is a matter of location, but, in another sense, it is a state of the heart.  Exile could be defined as the disorientation one experiences following a significant, perhaps catastrophic change in one's life.  What one once believed to be true no longer seems to hold up, and what is normal in life has to be redefined.  An experience of exile might follow a relocation to an unfamiliar place, the death of a loved one, an undesirable medical diagnosis, the loss of a job, or a divorce.9  You're in exile when you find yourself, literally or figuratively, a “stranger in a strange land.”  You're in exile when you realize, like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, that you are “not in Kansas anymore.”

When we find ourselves in a state of exile, we have the same two options the deportees from Judah had.  One option is to wait for our lives to return to normal.  If we choose this option, we run the risk letting our lives pass us by as we wait for a day that will never come.  Sometimes what we hope is a brief interlude turns out to be the next act of the play.  Our other option is to adapt to our circumstances and to move on with our lives.  When our lives are disrupted, we might want them to return to normal, but sometimes what we need is to accept a new normal.  Life goes on, whether or not life goes back to normal.

As difficult at the experience of exile might be, there is hope to be found in the midst of it.  “Surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope,” Jeremiah writes to the exiles in Babylon.  I believe that what was true about the people of Judah is true about each of us.  Wherever we find ourselves, God has a purpose and a plan for us, and, no matter how radically our lives change, God's love for us never changes.



I entered into a time of exile a few years ago when I made the decision to leave the church I attended for the first thirty-one years of my life.  Bethel United Methodist Church had played a critical role in my journey of faith, but, before I left, I was growing increasingly unhappy to be there.  The church had given me plenty of opportunities to serve and to cultivate my spiritual gifts.  I regularly took turns teaching Sunday school, and occasionally I had the opportunity to preach.  At the same time, I often felt that my needs as a young adult were not being met there.  Attendance had started to decline long before I was born, and I was often the youngest person in attendance by a rather wide margin.  Because the membership of the church had become so small, I occupied a number of leadership roles I had no business filling.  I watched a number of times as conflicts fractured the congregation and kept the church from succeeding in ministry.

Double-dipping with other churches allowed me to remain faithful to Bethel while meeting my needs that weren't met there.  I occasionally attended early contemporary services at other churches, and I attended a young-adult Bible study at a much larger church for a number of years.  In mid 2015, Bethel was placed on a charge with another church, meaning that the two churches started sharing a pastor.  Because we were sharing a pastor with a larger church, we had to change our meeting time, and the meeting time we chose prevented me from attending services at other churches.  To make matters worse, a number of key members left my Bible study group, leaving me the de facto leader, and I could see that the future of the group was uncertain.  Fearing that I would soon become isolated from my peers, I decided to leave Bethel, to start attending the church where my Bible study group met, and to pour all my energy into that group.

I felt guilty for leaving Bethel.  In search of greener pastures, I had turned my back on the church where, sixteen years earlier on my fifteenth birthday, I stood before the congregation and promised to support the church with my prayers, my presence, my gifts, and my service.  In some sense, I felt that I was divorcing my church, since I was abandoning my vows.  Bethel was not the church I needed it to be, yet I was not sure if I was doing what was right for me or just being selfish.

By the end of the year, the Bible study group I had been leading, which meant the world to me, disbanded.  I wondered if maybe I was reaping what I had sown.  Maybe the dissolution of the group was my punishment for leaving my church.  Maybe I had been abandoned by the community I needed because I had abandoned the community that needed me.  Fair is fair, right?  When it came to church, I had lost everything.  No longer was I teaching Sunday school or leading Bible study, and I wasn't sure that the church I had recently started attending was really a good fit for me.  For a number of years, I had been working to be certified as a lay speaker, and I figured that this journey had also come to an end.  Why should someone who abandoned his church be allowed to preach?

I might have lost everything, but God knew the plans that God had for me.  Six months after I left Bethel, I found my way to Travelers Rest United Methodist Church, and, over time, I found a new home there.  I joined a Sunday school class, and eventually I started taking turns leading the class discussion, as I did at my previous church.  My new class discusses current events in light of faith, so it has stretched me a bit.  I also joined a church Growth Group that meets weekly during various times of the year, and I started leading it as well.  My friends from this group have been a constant source of encouragement to me, and I hope that I have been a blessing to them as well.  In late 2017, I officially became a member of this church.  When I left Bethel, I figured I wouldn't be preaching anytime soon, but surprisingly the leadership of Bethel continued to support me, and for a while I ironically ended up preaching even more than I did previously.  In early 2017, I was finally certified as a lay speaker.

For a moment, I thought that I was being punished by God for my unfaithfulness to my church.  Looking back, I think that maybe God was simply relocating me.  Whether my decisions were right or wrong, God used my actions and the circumstances surrounding them to move me from where I was to where I am today, which I is where I think I need to be.

Jeremiah writes his letter not to an individual in exile but to a people in exile.  The experience of exile can take any size or shape.  I've seen that even churches can go through times of exile.  This sermon originated as a Sunday school lesson I taught at Bethel United Methodist Church less than one year before I left.  I thought that Jeremiah's letter to the exiles in Babylon contained an important message for my church.

Bethel Methodist Church was planted as a mill village church in 1895 by members of Buncombe Street Methodist Church to minister to the people of the Sampson Mill community.  The church's membership peaked at over 400 members in the late 1950s.  In 1967, the mill village was demolished, and around the same time the membership of the church began to decline.10  As the years passed, the community surrounding the church became very different from the community the church was originally established to serve.  It could be said that Bethel was a church in exile.  Though the church had not changed its location, the church's location had changed around it, leaving the members in a strange land.

In late 2014, as the church anticipated welcoming a new pastor the following year, the Staff-Parish Relations Committee, of which I was a member, met with the district superintendent, the clergyperson who assigns pastors to congregations on behalf of the bishop.  The DS told us that our church had two options.  We could reach out to the surrounding community and be open to radical change, or we could continue to do what we had been doing and inevitably close.  In other words, the congregation of Bethel faced the very same choice as the exiles from Judah.  We could either adapt to our circumstances and seek the good of the surrounding community or die out.  The DS said that it would be a shame if the beautiful building in which our church met fell into disuse and ended up being torn down.

I urged my Sunday school class to heed the words of Jeremiah's letter and to seek the good of the surrounding community, because our future as a church depended on it.  I told them that God still had a purpose and a plan for our church if we would just be open to it.  The mill village was never coming back, but, if we would be faithful as a church in exile, we just might find ourselves at home in the surrounding community, and the people of the surrounding community just might find a home at Bethel.  Unfortunately, the people of Bethel, myself included, never learned to reach beyond the walls of the church, and the church closed in July of 2017.  Fortunately, the remaining members found new church homes, and the building in which the church met was purchased by a relatively new Anglican congregation.

I suspect that a lot of churches are in a state of exile, as Bethel was.  For many churches, attendance has been in decline for a long time, and the world has changed a lot since the churches were in their heyday.  Jeremiah reminds us that we need to seek the good of the places where we find ourselves, even if we find ourselves in some strange places.  Two months ago, at a training event, I heard Rev. Junius Dotson say that we need to stop trying to fix our churches and to start seeing the people around us and start connecting with them.  He shared a number of ways the congregation he leads has sought the good of the community around them.  He taught us that, if our goal is to build up the church, we will fail to make disciples but that, if our goal is to make disciples as Jesus instructed us, we will build up the church.11



King Zedekiah eventually made the mistake of revolting against Babylon.  King Nebuchadnezzar responded by laying siege to Jerusalem once again, and the siege lasted at least a year and a half.12 13  In 587 BC, the Babylonians breached the city walls, captured and blinded King Zedekiah, looted and burned down the temple, razed the city to the ground, and deported many more people to Babylon.  About fifty years later, in 539 BC, the Babylonian Empire was conquered by the Persian Empire.  The exile ended when the Persian king Cyrus the Great allowed the people of Judah to return to their homeland and rebuild.14

Through Jeremiah, God says to the people in exile, “When you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you.  When you search for me, you will find me; if you seek me with all your heart, I will let you find me.”  Wherever you find yourself right now, whether you are at home or in exile, may you know that you are not alone, for, even when you feel far from home, God is never far away.  May you trust that God's intentions for you are good.  If you find yourself in a place of exile, may you trust that exile is not the end of the story, and may you trust that you will find yourself at home once again, even if it means finding a new home.

Amen.


Notes:
  1. Wikipedia: “The Wizard of Oz (1939 film)
  2. Psalm 137
  3. 2 Kings 23:31-35
  4. Wikipedia “Jehoiakim
  5. 2 Kings 24:1-7
  6. Wikipedia “Siege of Jerusalem (597 BC)
  7. 2 Kings 24:8-17
  8. Jeremiah 27:1-28:11
  9. Shane Hipps.  “Clay Hearts.”  Mars Hill Bible Church, 09/05/2010.
  10. https://web.archive.org/web/20141209031619/http://scmillhills.com/mills/american-spinning/churches/
  11. Rev. Junius B. Dotson spoke at a Lay Servant Ministries training event hosted by Mount Hebron United Methodist Church in West Columbia, South Carolina on August 3, 2019.  For more information about his work see https://www.seeallthepeople.org/.
  12. 2 Kings 24:20b-25:21
  13. Wikipedia “Siege of Jerusalem (587 BC)
  14. Wikipedia “Cyrus the Great
An den Wassern Babylons was painted by Gebhard Fugel around 1920.