"Remember: The Feast of Enough"
Luke 22:1-23
Rev. Emily Labrecque, Westmoreland UCC
September 20, 2026
[Pray.]
This is a poem called "Nickels," by Sarah Are.
My grandfather pressed a nickel into my hand –
One of those small silver circles
That countries are built on
And people live and die for.
I cupped my eight-year-old palm around it
As if that gift could become a part of me.
And once I had blessed it,
And once I had tossed it,
And once wishes had been made on heads and tails,
It was time to let it go.I laid that cool silver circle
That countries are built on
And people live and die for
On the railroad tracks.
And after the train passed,
I marveled at how something so small
Could endure so much
And still be here at all.
But I guess you could say the same for me.
Our theme for this first of our four weeks focused on Stewardship is “Remember.” This poem invokes for me all the memories I have, mine and others, of resilience, of struggle, of getting through the circumstances we never thought possible. For some of us we remember personal loss, death of a loved one, overcoming physical barriers, the pain of coming out of the closet, the end of a marriage, the loss of a job, the panic when the money was no longer flowing as it once did.
We remember a lot, even if not in our heads, we remember in our bodies. Just as we remember our challenges, we remember the joys. We remember when someone was generous to us, when we got the call that everything was okay, when we were welcomed or embraced after a long time away, when that conflict was resolved. We can feel the relief in our bodies, in our hearts, in our bones.
We begin this series by looking back at what our spoken and unspoken money stories have been and how those stories have impacted our practices of stewardship. In our story today from the Gospel of Luke, we remember the time Judas betrayed Jesus in exchange for money but was still invited to the table. Let’s take a closer look at that story for a moment.
We have to remember the context in which Jesus and the disciples were living. In 1st century Palestine, most people lived within a few different economic systems. Being subjects of the Roman Empire, they lived within a Patronage-Client system, which was a hierarchical system in which the patron, someone with wealth and power, was the protector and benefactor of the client who would, in return, provide loyalty, votes, and services.
Another system they lived with was that of the Temple Economy. In order to abide by Jewish law, Jews often had to sacrifice doves, oxen, or sheep. But that meant that unless you had an abundance of these animals, you had to purchase them. The prices could be adjusted at will meaning folks could charge an egregious amount for something someone was required to purchase. Another form of exploitation that occurred through the Temple was the loaning of money to the poor who were at risk of losing their land. As you can imagine, in an agrarian economy, this became a frequent issue.
So in returning to our text, the chief priests and legal experts were trying to execute Jesus because he was encouraging his followers to upset these systems. Jesus wanted to level the playing field, so to speak. Even more, lift the lowly and powerless up above those whose wealth drove the very systems who oppressed his people. These economic systems left the Jewish people at the whims of the moneychangers and rulers. Their lives and livelihoods were regularly at risk. But Jesus saw a new way forward. Walter Brueggemann writes,” His term for the alternative economy was ‘kingdom of God,’ that is, a social practice and a set of social relationships that are congruent with the God of the covenantal Torah of ancient Israel.”
There was a way forward in the Kingdom of God ... and yet ... on some level, Judas preferred the devil he knew. It might not have been a perfect system or even a good system ... but Jesus was disrupting it and it was scaring Judas. He had been following Jesus for all this time but things were starting to get out of hand. He wanted life to return to the way it was before Jesus started cleansing the temple and talking back to the aristocrats. He was afraid. Judas just wanted to feel safe again.[1]
I crave safety too. I want to ensure my children have everything they need, and more. I want to feel safe and secure in my home and neighborhood. I want to ensure I’m putting good and healthy food on the table. I want to make sure I have the safest booster seats in my nice car that is rated highly for safety. I want to feel safe too. And that often comes at great monetary cost.
It is a natural human desire to seek safety and security. There’s no harm in that.
However, Judas’ desire for security clouded his judgment and urged him to act in a way that was antithetical to his professed values. He wants assurance. He wants quick relief, rather than waiting for this nightmare to play out. He was desperate, and as we know, desperation can make a person do strange things.
Jesus understood this very human inclination. He knew that Judas would betray him. He knew that it would happen one way or another and yet Jesus doesn’t let Judas’ story end there. Instead, Jesus invites him to partake in an intimate meal at a table where everyone and every emotion and every story has a place. He offers him broken bread to make him whole. He offers him a shared cup that invites him into a new way forward. In doing so, Jesus reminds him that neither fear nor scarcity has the last word. Jesus helps him remember that God’s story is one of love and abundance and enough. Through this Feast of Enough, Jesus disrupts Judas’ fear.
In our own moments of fear, scarcity, or panic, we too can remember these stories of our tradition and lean into God’s economy, the Kin-dom of God.
As we remember manna falling from heaven,
as we remember water flowing out of the rock,
as we remember the quail delivered from on high,
as we remember the multiplying fishes and loaves,
as we remember the water turning to wine,
as we remember the haul of fish from the other side of the boat ...
We are reminded that God’s story, God’s money story is one of provision and abundance. So as we move through this season of stewardship, may we find ourselves slowly shifting our perspective from that of scarcity to that of abundance.
As we remember the stories that live in our bodies, may we remember that we have lived through every terrible thing that has ever happened to us, and yet we are still here.
May we remember that even when we disappoint, betray, or falter, we will still be welcomed at Love’s table.
For our God is a God of abundance.
May it be so.
Amen.
