Christian Nationalism

 

Mark 8:27-38

Proper 19 / Year B

So, I can sense you want to hear another story about one of my ancestors.  Can I get an ‘Amen’!   Mary Wright, another grandparent from twelve generations back, was born in Boston in 1642.  She and two sisters – Lydia and Hannah – are raised in a Quaker family, which at some point early in her life moves to Oyster Bay, NY, undoubtedly motivated by the fact Boston is governed by Puritans who did not take kindly to those of the Quaker persuasion. 

Here is one example.  In 1660, Mary Dyer, a mother of six, is hanged from an elm tree in Boston Common after being convicted in a civil court of being a Quaker.  Incensed by this act this, Mary Wright, just 18 at the time, travels to Boston by herself to demonstrate.  She is immediately banished, yet continues to preach.  She returns to Boston with several Quakers from Salem and all are immediately thrown into jail. 

Mary’s two sisters also make trips to Boston over the course of the next decade.  By then King Charles II has outlawed the hanging of Quakers, but a new statute on the books calls for Quakers to be stripped to the waist, tied to the back of a cart, and whipped from town to town until they are driven out of the colony.  While Hannah and Lydia avoid such a fate, not all of their colleagues are as fortunate.  There is a transcript of Lydia’s trail where the governor, a magistrate, are several other worthies interrogate her about her religious beliefs and practices.  It is chilling to read how faith and the power of the state forged together can be welded to legislate intolerance.

What does it say to you that the Puritans fled from England because they were persecuted there, came to Massachusetts in search of religious freedom, and then turned around to become exactly what they were escaping from in the first place? 

This past week Bishop Susan brought together the clergy of the diocese to discuss a paper which came out of the House of Bishops last June.  It is a theological response to a rise in Christian Nationalism in our country.  The paper defines Christian Nationalism as an attempt to define “national identity in terms of membership in a particular form of Christianity… and it reflects the desire certain groups of Christians and specific church-based institutions to turn toward the state to protect, support, and continue the structures to which its members have become so accustomed.” 

Americans hold we are one nation under God.  Many of us, at some conscious or unconscious level, believe this means one nation under my God.   And my God is shaped by my story.  When my God looks and feels a lot like your God, we craft a powerful common identity.  Eventually others join us and we begin to think in terms of our God.   But other people with different stories have their God who we do not see as being the same as our God.  Christian Nationalism is a movement by one group of people to use the power of the state to ensure everyone adheres to the precepts of their God, with the accompanying purpose to enshrine their privileges and perspectives above those of others.

Think about the stories of the New England Puritans and Quakers.  Their stories have a lot of similarities.  They share a common language and historical perspective rooted in England.  And yet there is enough dissimilar in their stories that one group obtains legal power over the other and uses it to enforce its views. 

Now think about what America is today.  We are a country of people whose stories have roots from all over the world.  Some of our stories are tales of privilege, other arise from the experience of persecution.  Some come here hoping to capitalize on superior medical training, others make a living as a migrant farmer.   Our stories vary greatly and yet still this is our country.  Some say this variety has changed the United States, but I say it has enriched us in the same way every new thread enriches a tapestry.  Can we hear each other’s stories and find a common ground on which to stand?  This, I think, is the great American challenge of our time.

This morning we hear Jesus say, “If any want to be my followers…” and right away this should get our attention.  I want to be a follower of Jesus so what do I need to do?  “Let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”  In the context of this sermon’s topic, what does it look like to deny yourself as a citizen rather than to assert yourself?  At the very least it is not my way or the highway.  It looks more like listening to rather than shouting at.  It looks like seeking and serving Christ in all persons and respecting the dignity of every human being. 

And what does it mean to pick up your cross and follow Jesus?  Well, it is something very different than pick up your sword and fight.  It certainly isn’t a directive to get on social media and call people names.  And it most definitely is not voting for candidate X or candidate Y.  It has something to do with laying aside your rights and privileges in order for the power of God to work in and through you.

I wonder if Jesus would say to those who seek to institute Christian Nationalism, “Those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it”?  It is at least something to consider if you want to be a follower of Jesus.

To read the letter from the Theology Committee of the House of Bishops click here:  Responding_to_Christian_Nationalism_in_the_21st_Century.pdf (mcusercontent.com)

The Tower Entrance

 

Hugh Brady was born in Limerick, Ireland in 1520. He was my great x 12 grandfather.  At some point in life Hugh was ordained and eventually appointed by Queen Elizabeth to serve as the protestant bishop of the Diocese of Meath.  An assessment of the diocese in 1571 reveals the only thing in worse condition than the clergy (who were uneducated, thieves, and prone to violence) is the condition of the churches.  Of Meath’s 243 parishes, 66 are deemed to be in good or reasonable repair, 9 are categorized as indifferently repaired, and 158 are considered to be somewhat or altogether ruined.  Grandpa Brady had his work cut out for him.

I share this little piece of family history to make a singular point: church buildings from every time and era require maintenance.  Without constant attention they fall into disrepair.  Our second church building (and first church of any kind in downtown Suffolk) ceased to function after the Revolutionary War.  By the turn of the century in 1800 it was in such pitiful condition the Vestry reckoned it needed to be torn down.  Work began on our current building in 1892.  How different were those times?  The Vestry minutes from April 1894 indicate the building committee was instructed to have the church wired for electric lights.  The first service in our present space is held on June 16, 1895, Pentecost Sunday.  All agree it is a magnificent structure inside and out.   

New building, no problems… right?  Wrong.  In 1901 (just six years after opening), the rector calls a meeting of the Vestry to state many have not been attending services because the church is cold on Sundays.  He repeats this complaint during the following year’s heating season and notes it is even worse due to a shortage of coal.  By 1903 money is being raised for a new heating system.  A new furnace is added a year later.  Then, in 1905, with our church celebrating just the 10^th anniversary of its opening, the rector reports – wait for it – the roof is leaking!  From there on the Vestry record is a series of building related problems from the organ to the windows to the heating system to a leaking roof.

This morning, as we gather to celebrate the reopening of our Tower Entrance, we remember the solemn responsibility we have to keep our building and grounds in good condition.  This is, after all, is a house of God, and God deserves nothing less than our best effort.  And we give thanks we are not left on our own to undertake this challenge.  We are blessed with an endowment to help defer our major maintenance projects.  All sizes of gifts – both small and substantial – have been contributed by our ancestors in the faith to build this fund and our Vestry and parish leaders work diligently to shepherd it so it will be a resource for generations to come. 

We are also blessed to be in relationship with a number of talented contractors, vendors, and professionals who go above and beyond in the services they provide to St. Paul’s.  You see many of them listed in today’s bulletin and some are here with us at this service.  As we put together this list I was amazed by how many different people contribute to the upkeep of our facility.  When these folks come here to work on a project I trust we are in good hands.  I sense the pride they take in their work and it is obvious they are giving us their best effort.  Some workers will take you to the cleaners.  The people who come here take good care of us and for this I am grateful.

Our Tower Entrance has been closed for some time now.  It has prevented us from using the Balcony and from ringing the bell.  The absence of our bell put on hold a cherished tradition among our children: ringing it twelve times at the end of the service.  Bells have always been an important feature of church life.  Moses’ brother Aaron, the founder of the priestly order, had bells sewn into the hem of his robe and they rang out constantly has he led the people in worship and prayer. 

Although we don’t know with certainty the first church to have a bell, we do know they were in general use throughout England by the 7^th century.  Bells were rung at various points of the day to call the faithful to prayer.  The ringing of a church bell announced a birth, a marriage, or a death.  It was held the sound of a church’s bell drove off evil spirits.  Church bells were also used to announce the time of day and to sound various kinds of alarm.  In short, their sound provided the community with all manner of information and for centuries were every bit as important the community as the internet is for us.

Our church bell was cast in 1860 by Meneely’s Bell Company of West Troy, NY.  It hung at our fourth church site (where the Obici Foundation House now stands) and was moved here before the opening service in 1895.  Meneely has cast thousands of bells which can be found all over the world.  In addition to the ones made for churches, they make bells for schools, factories, steamboats, ships, fire engines, and more.  Our bell weighs somewhere between 100-400 pounds and is suspended from a yoke Meneely patented about 150 years ago.  The company’s promotional material indicates inscriptions can be added to a bell at no extra cost, but ours has none.  Some bells are given names (such as “Old Tom” in Oxford), but there is no evidence our bell was ever named.  But, today it is back in service. 

We do not come here to worship our building.  This is the place where we congregate to worship God.  This place, like the words of our liturgy and the tune of our hymns, assists us as we seek to enter into God’s presence.  If old grandpa Brady was here with us to celebrate today, I think he would sleep a little better knowing one of his parishes has been restored to good repair.

Our Posture in the Presence of God

 

Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

Proper 17 / Year B

Since the dawn of religious belief – be it in one deity or a whole pantheon – human beings have perceived the need to approach ultimate holiness with great care.  In many religious traditions, including our own, there is a pervasive sense God exists completely beyond us.  Eucharistic Prayer D captures this awareness with these words:

“You alone are God, living and true, dwelling in light inaccessible from before time and forever.”

How do you come before a Being such as this?  Why do we even think we can enter into the presence of God?  When we do what should our posture be; and by ‘posture’ I mean something much broader and deeper than standing, sitting, or kneeling?

This question of posture is at the heart of today’s readings.  “Lord, who may dwell in your tabernacle” the Psalmist asks, “who may abide on your holy hill?”  It is one of the most profound questions in the Scriptures.  The answer, apparently, is anyone who approaches God with the right posture.  But this does not settle the question, it merely begins the debate.  What is the right posture one needs when one comes before God?

Pharisees and scribes confront Jesus in today’s gospel reading with concerns around this issue.  They are upset Jesus does not make his followers go through a ritual act of handwashing prior to eating a meal.  The primary purpose of this practice is for religious purification and has nothing to do with sanitation.  It is part of an elaborate ritual designed to make one acceptable in God’s presence.  And before we poo-poo it, notice Jesus himself does it because the religious figures don’t attack him for not observing it, rather they attack him for not making his followers do it.

Here is what is good about these obscure purification rites: they remind people of the Holy Otherness of God.  In the Hebrew tradition one never attempts to make an image of God because to do so reduces God’s unfathomable grandeur to something tangible and limited.  One never speaks the Name of God because to do so has the same effect.  God is experienced as Other, Beyond, Glory inapproachable, and yet also as Present and open, a Revealing Self who spoke to the ancestors and through the prophets.  This Holy Other and Revealing Self invites and even welcomes the Hebrew people into its Majestic Presence and the Hebrew people understand accepting this welcome requires great care on their part.  This care takes the form of elaborate rites and rituals for purification.  Some of these are prescribed in the Hebrew Scriptures while others develop over time through tradition. 

So, applaud the Pharisees for recognizing the greatness of God and the need to approach God with the right posture.  Jesus’ issue with them centers on how one obtains the right posture.  In one brief discussion he changes the focus from outer rituals to inner attitudes; from outward piety to inner devotion; from purification of the hands to purification of the heart.

Consider our other lessons this morning.  James exhorts his readers to be doers of the word, not merely hearers of it.  “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God is this,” he writes, “to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.”  The care he describes is not an empty, outward gesture, but a manifestation of inner lover.  Being unstained by the world is not mere abstinence, but the result of an inner quest for holiness.

In answering the question about who can stand on God’s holy hill and enter into God’s tabernacle, the psalmist points not to rituals for purification, but to acts which signify moral integrity: being blameless, truthful, without guile or contempt for your neighbor, spurning wickedness, embracing righteousness, keeping one’s word (even when it comes at personal cost), never taking advantage of another. 

In the Old Testament lesson, Moses shifts the focus from individual purity to communal purity.  We all are to keep the commands of God, he tells the faithful “for this will show your wisdom and discernment to the peoples, who, when they hear all these statutes, will say, ‘Surely this great nation is a wise and discerning people!’  For what other great nation has a god so near to it as the LORD our God is whenever we call to him?”

Let’s be honest about one thing: if having the correct posture to approach God depends entirely upon us, it would be better to be judged by outward rituals than by inward attitudes.  It is much easier to clean your hands and in a certain manner than to have a pure heart.  But God conceives of purity not in terms of perfection, but intention.  What are you aiming for, knowing sometimes you will miss the target?  What is your heart’s desire, knowing you don’t always pursue it?  I remember an old saying I used to hear as a child: “Always try to do you best and remember to let God take care of the rest.”  This is the posture God asks of anyone who responds to the welcome of Revealing Self.

Have you ever reflected on the first prayer we offer at the beginning of every service of Holy Eucharist:

Almighty God (Gulp!  Here is a Being who should make our knees tremble), to you all hearts are open (Yikes!  What could be worse than an encounter with someone who knows your heart through and through?), all desires known (Double yikes, because some of my desires are not so great!), and from you no secretes are hid (Uh oh!  There are some skeletons in my closet): Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love you, and worthily magnify your holy Name.

Every time we enter into the welcoming Presence of the One who is Self-Revealing in an act of worship, we do so acknowledging the posture required by God is in fact a gift from God.  It is God who cleanses us to make us pure; enabling us to love God and magnify God’s holy Name.  Let us give thanks this morning for how God invites us near, asking of us clean hearts and minds and making us ‘pure’ through God’s own gracious gift.

The Eilu Devarim

 

Proverbs 9:1-6

Prober 15 / Year B

As a boy, one of my monthly highlights was receiving a copy of the children’s magazine Highlighters in the mail.  Each issue contained stories, puzzles, experiments, jokes, crafts, and more.  Perhaps my favorite feature, and certainly the most memorable, was a cartoon about two boys – Goofus and Gallant.  As their names suggest, one boy’s actions were virtuous and respectful while the other’s were rude and selfish.  “Goofus turns on the TV when there are guests in the house.  Gallant turns off the television at once.”  And while the results of each’s behavior is never depicted, the message was clear: this is how good children behave and this is what a bad one does in the same situation.

Goofus and Gallant is a modern example of an ancient tradition known as wisdom literature.  It crosses cultural, national, and religious boundaries to do at least three important things:

· Provide essential instruction necessary for success in life for parents to pass on to their children.

· Set forth the wisdom and counsel of learned men and women known for sound judgment.

· Articulate in memorable form basic ideas and concepts to a generally illiterate society.

Hebrew wisdom literature operated at three levels. 

· The first was basic intelligence, often referred to as shrewdness.  Thinks about how many of Jesus’ parables revolve around shrew behavior. 

· The next level is good sense, sound judgment, and moral understanding. 

· The third level delves into the more profound questions of human life and destiny.  

It functions at these levels in one of two ways.  Either it is conservative, practical, and worldly wise, as we find in the Book of Proverbs.  Or, it is critical of conventional beliefs and offers radical alternatives, as we find in the Book of Job.

Hebrew writing regularly personifies wisdom, often as a woman as we see in today’s first reading.  Foolishness is also personified later in this same passage (verses 13-18) and the two should be read together.  Both wisdom and foolishness reach out to the simple.  Wisdom builds a lavish house, prepares a sumptuous meal, and goes to great lengths to invite people in.  Foolishness merely sits by the door of her house and calls out to whoever might be passing by, offering to them food she has stolen.  Ultimately, the meal offered by the foolish woman kills her guests while the meal offered by the wise woman leads to life – hence, its connection to the gospel reading and Jesus’ teaching whoever partakes of his body will have eternal life.

The Book of Proverbs makes a strong connection between wisdom and life:

· For whoever finds me finds life. (8:35)

· Long life is in (wisdom’s) right hand. (3:16)

· She is a tree of life to those who lay hold of her. (3:18)

Wisdom literature, then, is focused on personal well-being, which is intrinsically linked with being a part of one’s community in all the right ways.

In 2017, Rabbi Evan Moffic published a book called The Happiness Prayer.  Written over 2000 years ago, the prayer is known in Hebrew at Eilu Devarim, which means “These are the words.”  It is a beautiful example of Hebrew wisdom literature:

How will you find happiness in this world and peace in the world to come?  By learning these wisdom practices from your ancestors:

Honor those who gave you life

Be kind

Keep learning

Invite others into your life

Be there when others need you

Celebrate good times

Support yourself and others during times of loss

Pray with intention

Forgive

Look inside and commit

Rabbi Moffic says this prayer daily.  It has taught him happiness is not a destination, but found on the path itself.  It teaches happiness is a choice available to each of us.  It tells us prayer is not just something to get us through hard times.   It gives us lessons that are the essence of life itself.

Wisdom says,

“Come, eat of my bread
and drink of the wine I have mixed.

Lay aside immaturity, and live,
and walk in the way of insight.”

Strength for the Journey

 

I Kings 19:4-8

John 6:35, 41-51

Proper 14 / Year B

I have told you before the time after my marriage ended in 2002 was a very dark and difficult period in my life and I leaned heavily on several spiritual disciplines.  The prayer book’s daily offices – especially an Order of Light for the Evening – affected me deeply.  I began to attend a Saturday evening service at a nearby Episcopal Church.  Being a worshipper, not a worship leader, reminded me just how powerful a church service can be for a participant.  God always touched me in some way.  One time it was something in the sermon, another a line in a hymn or anthem, still another something in the liturgy, or, most often, simply receiving the sacrament.  No Saturday night passed without sensing God was with me. 

And then I began to look for what I called my “daily bread.”  The phrase, taken from the Lord’s Prayer, became a quest each day to find one thing to lift my spirit; to bring light into the darkness around me.  It didn’t have to be miraculous, just encouraging.  I remember one day it was a small child sitting in a shopping cart facing me as his mother placed groceries on the check-out belt.  He smiled and waved a little wave to me.  What does it say to you I still remember this brief, seemingly insignificant moment from 22 years ago?  Things as simple as this happened each and every day and sustained through a very low point.  I don’t look as intently for this bread today, but most days I recognize moments of grace or beauty or joy and it never fails to lift my spirit.

This morning we read about a difficult episode in Elijah’s life.  Just twenty-four hours earlier he experiences the highest of highs.  The prophet publicly criticizes King Ahab’s marriage alliance with Jezebel, a Phoenician princess.  She has statues of the pagan god Baal erected in the Temple and commissions some four hundred fifty prophets to serve it.  Elijah proposes a contest.  He challenges them to set up an altar and make it ready for a sacrifice.  He does the same.  They then are to pray to their god to send fire from heaven to ignite it.  They go first.  They pray.  They dance.  They cut themselves.  Elijah heckles them: Maybe your god is asleep… Maybe he is on vacation.  When it is clear nothing is going to happen, Elijah takes his turn.  He orders water – lots of water – to be poured all over and around his altar.  It is a soggy mess and nowhere near a threat to ignite.  Then Elijah prayers and fire comes down, consuming the sacrifice.  Onlookers need no more convincing.  They put the prophets of Baal to the sword.  It is Elijah’s high point.

The low comes swiftly as Jezebel vows to have him executed within twenty-four hours.  The prophet flees fast and far to the south, avoiding capture.  Alone, exhausted, famished, thirsty, frightened, he finds himself under a broom tree; the only source of shade in the Negev wilderness for miles.  He lays down and falls asleep.  All he wants to do is die. 

An angel of the Lord wakes him and places before him a cake of bread and a jar of water.  “Eat, drink,” the angel instructs him.  Talk about daily bread!  It is as much physical nourishment as spiritual.  Elijah falls back asleep and again the angel wakes him.  There is more bread and more water.  “Eat, drink,” the angel tells him, “You will need it to have strength for the journey ahead.”  Elijah spends the next forty days traversing the wilderness to get to Mt. Horeb; the mountain where Moses first encountered God in the burning bush.  The bread and water sustain him.

I love the phrase ‘strength for the journey.’  Elijah is instructed to eat because he needs strength for the journey he must undertake.  Where do you find strength for your journey?  What for you is daily bread?

For the next few weeks we are in the midst of pondering Jesus’ teaching on the bread of life after he feeds 5000 people with a few loaves of bread and two fish.  Now, for many of these people, the prayer for daily bread is a request for physical nourishment.  Many live with dire food insecurity and having something to eat every day is not at all guaranteed.  No wonder they follow Jesus hoping to get just a little bit of food.  Jesus labors to teach them the most important bread he offers is spiritual.  It comes from heaven and it gives life.  It satisfies our deepest longings and meets our greatest needs.  Just as Elijah finds under the broom tree, it is this bread which comes to us in the wilderness moments of our lives which transforms them into places of safety and wellbeing.   

Jesus gives us strength for the journey.  It is something those of us here today find each week as we come to the Lord’s table.  The motivational speaker Steve Maraboli says of life it does not get easier or more forgiving, we get stronger and more resilient.  This rings true with my experiences of dark times and searching for daily bread.  Think about what happens when Elijah eats the bread given to him.  Ahaz and Jezebel still have murderous hunters looking for him.  The wilderness is not transformed into a Club Med.  He is not outfitted with the best hiking gear from R.E.I.  What changes?  He now knows God is with him.  He now has strength for the journey.  It is my story too and I trust it is yours as well.

Abiding Food

 

John 6:24-35

Proper 13 / Year B

How many decisions do you think you make in a typical day?  100?  1,000?  Well, studies have determined the each of us makes (giver or take) 35,000 decisions every twenty-four hours.  Knowing this makes me feel overwhelmed!  Now, many of these choices are unconscious.  You drove here this morning and while operating your car you made a lot of decisions, but I’ll bet you can only remember a few.

Most of our conscious decisions are inconsequential: what to eat, what to wear, what to do for an evening’s entertainment.  Sometimes these little considerations become bigger deals.  Cindy, who is away this weekend at a family wedding on Long Island, put a great deal of thought into what she was going to wear to the rehearsal dinner and to the wedding.  No doubt it will be some time before she again needs to put as much effort into getting dressed.

Some of our choices affect not only the course of our lives, but also the lives of our loved ones.  I have always loved the story told by author and educator Parker Palmer about the time he had an opportunity to become a college president.  He gathered a few close friends and asked them to help him discern what to do.  One friend asked, “What do you think you will not like about being a college president?”  Palmer thought for a moment and then replied, “I will not like the constant pressure to raise funds.  I will not like dealing with faculty politics.  I will not like pandering to pompous and pushy alumni.  And I will not like fielding all the petty grievances of the student body.”  After some silence another friend asked, “What do you think you will like about being a college president?”  Again Palmer pondered the question and then responded, “I think I will like seeing my picture in the newspaper announcing my hire.”  More silence until a friend asks, “Can you think of any other way to get your photo into the paper?”

This morning we hear Jesus begin to speak with those he fed with the bread and fish.  They are following him because they want more food and Jesus, who proclaims himself to be the Bread of Life, tells them they are focused on a lesser thing.  “Do not work for the food that perishes,” he instructs them, “but for the food which endures to eternal life”; for the food which “abides”. 

It is such a basic teaching, isn’t it.  Are you focused on what really matters or are you fixated on something less?  As the author John C. Maxwell put it, “Life is a matter of choices and every choice you make makes you.”  35,000 times each day we have the opportunity to choose what will abide or what will perish.

Jesus asks those who approach him, “Why are you here?  What is it you are looking for?”  These are two good questions.  Mark Twain famously observed the two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you figure out why.  When you figure this out then you can begin to choose what abides.

We all want to discern a meaningful purpose to life.  We all crave affirmation our life matters.  We all long for an inner peace welling up from a sense we are living our lives the right way.  The world gives us alluring options to pursue these things.  Among them: 

·       Move up the corporate ladder. 

·       Go for bigger and better. 

·       Amass power. 

·       Stay youthful and attractive. 

Often, however, these things are nothing more than perishable food.  Parker Palmer was seeking affirmation and notoriety, which are noble goals we all seek.  But notice he is going about it in a way which will make him miserable.

Discerning why you were born is a lifelong challenge and the answer changes as we age.  What feeds us with abiding food during one phase in our life does not always translate to the next chapter of our life. 

Another challenge… abiding food for one person may not be what you need.  You are unique.  You are special.  There is no blueprint you can purchase to show you how to build your life.  You have to create your own design; the one right for you and only you.  One of my childhood friends has gone on to become the president of a small, mid-west college.  He appears to be thriving in a position which Parker Palmer would have found suffocating.  You have to find your own way.  You have to discover what to labor for that will abide for you.

Two things will help.  First, learn what truly motivates you, what gives you a sense of meaning and purpose; what makes you happy.  Not what others or the world says it should be.  What it is for you.  And second, define your values.  You will never taste abiding food if you are acting against your core beliefs and principles.  I could never be at peace if I was willfully going against the teachings of Jesus or not seeking to live into the implications of my baptismal covenant.  I suspect neither can you.

Do not labor for food which perishes, but for food which endures.

Possibilities

 

John 6:1-21

Proper 12 / Year B

This morning we find Jesus is a familiar setting doing something completely different.  The setting – he is beside the Sea of Galilee and he is completely mobbed by people from all over the region.  What does he do that is different?  He administers a test to his disciples.  He asked them to figure how all these people – some 5,000 folks – are going to find food to eat. 

Philip responds first.  His mind is wrapped around the challenges involved.  “We could spend half of our yearly budget on bread and still not have enough for everyone to get just a little.”  No Vestry is going to authorize a plan like this, you can be sure. 

Then Andrew speaks up, “Here is a boy who has five barely loaves and two fish, but what good will this do when the need is so overwhelming?”  As a side note, barely loaves are the cheapest, least nutritious kind of bread at the time.  It is safe to assume the two fish are not the best of the catch either. 

Jesus tests them because, as the text tells us, he himself knows what he is going to do.  Philip is overwhelmed.  He can’t even think of a first step to take to address the situation.  Interestingly, Andrew has the solution right in his hands, but he does not see it.  His is a failure of imagination.  It is a failure of faith.

Here is the important thing about this story: while the disciples focus on the challenges, Jesus focuses on the possibilities.  Shel Silverstein, the decorated children’s author, wrote this famous poem about the ‘mustn’t’:

Listen to the mustn’s, child.  Listen to the don’ts.

Listen to the shouldn’ts, the impossible, the won’ts.

Listen to the never haves, then listen to me close...

Anything can happen, child.  Anything can be.

Jesus sees the potential in some seemingly insignificant things.  First, there is the boy and his willingness to give what he has.  Next, there is the grass.  When I visited the Holy Land it was struck with how a good deal of the region is a rocky wasteland; difficult to describe and difficult to imagine until you see it for yourself.  But where Jesus is and where these people are gathered there is grass.  We might say it is a comfortable place to have a picnic.  So Jesus instructs the disciples to have the people to sit down.

He understands one more thing about possibilities.  If you move toward God, God will move miles and mountains to get to you.  When offered in faith, God uses even our most meager efforts to make things happen.  Thomas Merton wrote,

“You do not need to know precisely what is happening, or exactly where it is all going.  What you need is to recognize the possibilities and challenges offered by the present moment, and to embrace them with courage, faith, and hope.”

Which is exactly what Jesus does.  In language reminiscent of our Eucharist liturgy, he takes the bread, gives thanks, and distributes it.  And, miraculously, everyone is satisfied.  Now when Jesus converted water into wine at the wedding in Cana, the chief steward pronounces it the best wine served at the party.  Here, on the mountainside, we are not told Jesus serves up a five-star meal, only that everyone gets enough.

And notice how the role of the disciples changes.  In the beginning they are being tested.  Disciples, by definition, are learners.  They sit at the feet of a master and soak up all that person has to say.  But a shift happens.  It begins when Jesus tells the disciples to have the people sit down.  Now they have a role to play in this moment, be it ever so minor.  All though the text doesn’t say so explicitly, it seems natural to assume the disciples managed the distribution of the bread and fish.  We are told Jesus instructs them to pick up all the leftovers – twelve baskets full in all. 

This is not just a command to clean up the park after everyone has left.  It is a gathering a valuable resources.  The detail about there being twelve baskets seems a bit odd until you realize there are twelve disciples.  Each one receives a full basket of leftovers.  Imagine what each might do with what is entrusted to him.  Imagine the possibilities.  They come to the mountainside as disciples – as learners – but the leave as Apostles, as those sent out. 

So where are you in all of this?  Are you more inclined to focus on the problems and to be overcome by the challenges in your life, or do you see the possibilities and act on them?  In what areas of your life are you more passive – a learner – and in what areas are you more apostolic – sent out as one empowered by God to minister to the world?