What could be better Scriptures for my annual report to you than Micah 6 (“What does the Lord require of us?”—a favorite text of ours) and Matthew 5—the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount which is the Beatitudes. Justice, Mercy, Walking humbly with God all while thinking of our Blessings. I could sit down right now. But, of course, I won’t.
As I thought about this sermon/report this week—my eyes, my head, my heart was full of pictures from NYC, from Minnesota, from our country, from our world. Let’s start with Blessing, for that is where Jesus started. Looking out on that vast crowd, he started his sermon with “Blessed are you…” Not the normal things people were expecting to hear were a blessing—like money (lots of it), like good health, like good looks, like abundance of family and friends, like the trappings of the rich and famous. No, Blessed were the poor in spirit, those that mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peace-makers, the persecuted, the reviled.
So are we blessed? Yes (in both senses of the word). I think Jesus was making a point to say that there are often blessings in places where we least think they are. But that doesn’t mean that we don’t give thanks for the blessings we have (things that almost anyone could count as blessings), individually and as a church. We at UPC are blessed with faithful leaders and members, dedicated allies, the legacy of the giving of those in years past, as well as heart-felt insistence that we act on our faith and we show up for one another (especially those who most need us here in West Orange and elsewhere around the world).
We are blessed in God’s eyes, not because of our size, or our bank account, but because God chose us—naming us and treating us as children of God.
In response, we try to listen to the Spirit’s promptings, and we try to follow Jesus’s call to ministry in God’s world. We are blessed like Abraham is blessed. Do you remember that story? [Gen. 12:1-3] The Lord says to Abraham, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing.”
Yes, we are blessed by God to be a blessing just like Abraham and his descendants. Even in the midst of uncertainty and fear—we are blessed by God to be a blessing. Even when things seem dark and out of control—we are blessed by God to be a blessing. Even in the midst of hate—of people ramming their car into the doors of a synagogue, God still blessings so that God’s people might be a blessing. And if things are going well for us—we are blessed by God (not to stay in our own little cocoon)—No, we are blessed to be a blessing.
And UPC has certainly tried to be a blessing. In 2025 we were blessed and a blessing to those in need of food through the Holy Trinity/West Orange Food Pantry, and the St. Andrew’s feeding program. We were blessed and a blessing to those who feel unseen or misrepresented at our Juneteenth celebration, and our Trans Day of Visibility. We were blessed and a blessing as we remembered the many faithful years of service and witness of our elder statespeople in our sphere. We were blessed and a blessing as we reached out in person and online—to lift up our voices in worship, to provide space to study Scripture, to lend a listening ear and a helping hand, to gather in fellowship and offer opportunities for service, to open our space to community groups like Baby’s Closet, the Women’s Club, the Seniors, a Zumba gathering, even a martial arts studio.
Blessed to be a blessing means focusing on how we can best serve God in this particular time and this particular space. Blessed to be a blessing means keeping our eyes on the prize of God’s wonderful vision of Shalom in our world and tenaciously working towards it being more evident to and for all.
Blessed to be a blessing means acknowledging the sin and pain of this world, but never losing sight of God’s grace and mercy at work all around us, even in our very lives.
Justice, Mercy, Walking Hand in Hand with God is as rebellious a notion today as it was to those who Micah was preaching to. It is always a slap in the face to those who are not living up to God’s intention for us—that is to live a life full of loving God and loving our neighbors, even welcoming the stranger (as the Apostle Paul put it “for you might be entertaining angels unaware” [Heb 13:2]).
We might cry with the psalmist “But how do we sing the Lord’s songs in a foreign land?” For this time feels for many of us like an out-of-body experience. Where is the country that we knew and loved? Where is the place so proud of being a melting pot, a crazy quilt, a stew of nationalities and ethnicities? Where is the ardor that fought so valiantly against any monarch [back 250 years ago, it was George the III]? Where is even that so-called compassionate conservatism of yesteryear?
How do we do justice when we could be killed by masked men? How do we show mercy to those who tear families apart and imprison little children or blow boats out of the water? What does walking hand in hand with God mean for us today? I had a blessing this week. I heard the words of Cardinal Joseph Tobin about this very topic. And his question to each of us was, “How will you say ‘no’?” In my mind I heard him saying, How do you say No to fascism. No to hatred. No to fear. No to the forces who array themselves against the light that came into this world and cannot be extinguished.
Cardinal Tobin said he had been given a blessing from the pen of Italian novelist Ignazio Silone who wrote “pane e vino” (bread and wine) during the dark days of fascism in Italy. In the novel a distraught young woman seeks the counsel of an elderly priest amid the repression of the regime. “And this old man looked at the young woman and said, ‘I’m not sure what we can do, but I am sure of this, that what topples empires and what keeps dictators awake at night is the sole person who steals into the piazza in the middle of the night and scrawls on the wall, ‘NO.’”
Cardinal Tobin added, “If we are serious about putting our faith into action we need to say No.” So he asked those listening, “"How will you scrawl your answer on the wall? How will you help restore a culture of life in the midst of death?"
I do think that is the question of our time. And I think that we at UPC have begun the journey. We all have to find our own ways.
Whether it is wearing a whistle, or using one. Whether it is starting a writing campaign to our own representatives, and to anyone who will listen to our rage and our disappointment and our grief. Whether it is lifting up in prayer: all those who have been deported, all those who are incarcerated, all those who are fearful of being separated, all those who have been sucked into the idea that acting like gang thugs is actually patriotic, all those who maliciously orchestrated this “small” idea of our country, all those who might be open to standing hand in hand, arm in arm, neighbor by neighbor, not counting who you voted for, but resting on who you are called to love.
I wonder if UPC (in microcosm) and people of faith (in macrocosm) have a YES as well as a NO. It is important to voice our opposition, to not stand silent, to add our presence to so many of our friends and neighbors, here and in cities and towns around our country, even around the world. We do have to write our No—loud and clear (or maybe for some, quiet yet no less determined). But we write our No because of a bigger Yes.
--We say No to making “others” out of the least of these our brothers and sisters—because Jesus said Yes to being with the least of these. And Jesus said more than Yes, Jesus said he was one of the least of these. In Matthew 25, Jesus reminds us that however we treat one of the least of these, we are treating him.
--We say No to anyone who would put themselves above others and above the law—because we say Yes (like those who wrote the Barmen Declaration) to worshipping God alone as Lord and King.
--We say No to operating as if there were no justice, no mercy, and no eventual judge of how we act and who we are, because we say Yes, we are directed and called and prompted and fired up to do justice, even in the face of injustice; to love mercy, even when there is no mercy to be seen; to hang onto our walk with God as if it were the most important thing of all—for it is.
UPC, 2025 brought so many blessings, and asked of us to be a blessing in return. I think we can say that we tried our best to meet that challenge.
Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount reminds us that it is our job to look for and point out and multiply the blessings that God has given us—starting with God’s love and mercy and grace. And it is especially faithful to do so when times get rough, when things look bleak, and when we have trouble seeing blessings in the midst of chaos. But we remember what God does with chaos. God speaks, God creates, and there is life, and that life is good.
2026 looms large. How will we continue to say “no?” How will we make our “yes” clear to everyone around us? How will we continue on the path that so many others have trod—hearing what it is that the Lord requires of us—and promising to act, to live—by doing justice, and loving mercy, and walking humbly with our God?
May it be so, Alleluia, Amen.
