Beynond Nothing But

Pentecost 8a, August 3, 2014 (Genesis 32:22-31; Romans 9:1-5; Matthew 14:13-21 Main text)

As we are encountered by Jesus in today's Gospel he is sad. Jesus is sad because John the Baptist has been murdered. Now John the Baptist is not just someone Jesus knew. No, they have a long and intimate history together. Mary, Jesus' mother, upon discovering her pregnancy literally runs to visit her relative Elizabeth who at that very time is pregnant with John. As Mary enters Elizabeth's home, the baby John in utero literally leaps. Much later in John and Jesus' lives, their paths cross again. John baptizes Jesus in the Jordan River. Yes, Jesus and John go "way back". 

           

Not only that. But John has this habit of telling the truth – all the time. It doesn't seem to matter whom he is with. When King Herod decides that heWILLl marry his brother Philip's wife – while Philip is still alive, John unapologetically criticizes Herod for breaking God's law. Neither Herod, nor his new girl friend, Herodias are pleased. One night when Herod and Herodias are feasting with their "kind of people", while they have already eaten and drank way too much, Herodias' daughter dances for them. Herod is "inspired" by the dance. He makes a boastful promise to the girl. Ask whatever you want – and it will be done for you! After conspiring with her mother, the girl asks for John's head on a platter.

 

While receiving the request Herod has some twinges of guilt. But he is much more concerned with what that crowd will think of him. In his mind's eye, he is a king, albeit a puppet "king". Kings must have power. Part of that power is to keep order. Part of being a king is the pretense  of keeping their public promises, no matter how illogical or foolish they may be. Herod refuses to lose face. So it is. John is murdered! His head is served on a platter – like just another dish. Speak of politics, sex and intrigue!

 

But that's the way it is. That's the way it has been. Those who have power in this world – will usually do almost anything to keep it to maintain their delusion of "control". But then, so many others lose: the basic necessities, even their lives! See the news today: Gaza and Israel, Syria, South Sudan, the Ukraine. Look even closer to home: gang warfare, the battle for power in both private and public relationships. We are included. The pain and loss that results for SO MANY, for EVERYONE ULTIMATELY, IS IMMEASURABLE. 

 

BUT THIS ISN'T JESUS WAY. Not even while engulfed in grief is this Jesus' way. Encountering us this morning, He has just learned that John has been murdered. Jesus wants to be alone. He may need to be alone. He withdraws to a deserted placed.

 

Nevertheless, the crowds follow. They find him. Instead of dismissing them he cures their sick. Can  you imagine? All those people! There would have been so many among them who were il:l sick in mind, body or spirit. Who among us are ill – in mind, body, or spirit?

 

While so many of the crowd gathered are being healed time passes. Night looms. The disciples begin to panic. Who will feed this hungry mass? What can we few disciples do? From their panic, they approach Jesus. They entreat him, "Send them away!" Let them get their own food...

 

But where would such a crowd get food, in a food security challenged wilderness?

 

Do we know about wildeness/deserted places: places where we are alone, where no one seems to understand us? Places where we don't have what we need or at the very least where don't have access to what those whom we so deeply love need? Deserted places are those places when we go away from home for the first time. Deserted places are what we experience when we lose our spouse, our close friend. Deserted places are finding out that we or someone we love is critically ill, even dying.

 

The disciples are in a deserted place. They entreat Jesus: send the crowd away.

 

But Jesus says, "NO!"Nor does he leave it at that. He says something further. It is surprising, frightening and ultimately hopeful. "They need not go away; you give them something to eat."

 

The disciples are flabbergasted. They respond honestly: "We have nothing here but ... five loaves and two fish."

 

Do we identify with their sense of scarcity? Do we feel their hopelessness, their futility?

 

Listen carefully: to yourself: your heart and mind. How can we feed the hungry?  Sometimes the Richmond food bank can't even do it. Too often even the federal and provincial governments seem incapable. Moreover, when we understand the "hungry" as all those people, creatures, even creation itself that is in need of love, respect, even forgiveness, perhaps even advocacy for food and health security, well we are right there with the early disciples. "Send them away Lord. They'll have to fend for themselves. Surely, we can't do feed them"...

 

But now as then I suspect that this miraculously compassionate, if also deeply saddened Jesus clearly says, "No! They need not go away. You give them something to eat."

 

Do we hear him speaking to us??? Do we??

 

Once again I suspect we are literally "with" those disciples. We have nothing here but... only 90 or 60 or 33, people. I am only one person – a middle class person – 40, 50, 60, 80 or 90. Don't you know we have bills to pay, things to do? Our families are important also.

 

But Jesus lets his statement stand, even as He looks at us."YOU GIVE THEM SOMETHING TO EAT!"

 

Do we realize, know what he gives us? Do we actually see our five loaves and two fish?

 

What are our five loaves and two fish (Listen).... Could they be our faith, our goods, our time, our talents? Could they be our money? See them. Bring them to him for direction. You will be amazed. Jesus says, "Bring them here to me!" And then he looks up to heaven and blesses and  breaks our five loaves and two fish. He returns them to us, to go out and give away, to any and all in need. What amazing things happen!

 

Amazing things! Children being born, taught, inspired. They may actually see and experience the love of God IN US. We might even think in such moments that we are helping. We may be. But we are also being helped.  Our eyes, minds, hearts and ears are opened. We are being changed, freed from fear and incapacitation, from compulsion for acquisition. We are being freed to love unconditionally to being forgiving. Reconciliation happens within and without.

 

Not that it's easy to bring what we have to him for direction: to give away. It's often messy, rarely smooth. Sometimes are hurt badly. The old empires of hatred, greed, fear, violence and death rage around and within. Luther says, "they seek to work us woe". But God does not give up – on the early disciples even though they were so often blind, deaf, dumb, stubborn, hard hearted. Nor does God does give up on us, whatever we have or haven't done.

 

Listen as he invites us, even commands us to bring him our five loaves and two fish. Who knows where He will lead us?

 

I have a pretty good hunch that it's a lot farther than "nothing but". Amen.

Movin' In the Storm?

Pentecost9a14, August 10, 2014 (Matthew 14:22-33 with Genesis 37:1-28 in bg)

 

We're all in the same boat. Do you believe that? . . .

 

Let's play with this for a moment. Here in this place today, we are literally in the same "boat". The part of the church that we are sitting in is not called the sanctuary but the nave. There is an important difference. A sanctuary signifies one of two things – a safe place but at the same time also a holy place, a place set apart, a place where God most assuredly dwells. We near the sanctuary at communion, to proclaim the lessons, to serve the meal. But the rest of the time at worship we are actually in the nave. Nave comes from a latin word from which we derive such English words as navy. A nave has as its root a "boat". As Christians when we come to worship  we are literally sitting, standing in the same boat. Nor are boats always to be moored. They are often to set out somewhere, to have as part of their mission being on a journey.

 

So this morning we are literally in the same "boat", the nave. But there is also a far deeper truth to this. Today, the disciples in Matthew's Gospel are in a boat on the Sea of Galilee literally being tossed to and fro. Occasionally we are tossed to and fro, by forces that may be beyond our full comprehension and certainly beyond our personal control.

 

I read a story yesterday about a tiny Indonesian girl who had been caught up in the great tsunami that struck her country 10 years ago. 170,000 people died in that tragedy. Until just recently that girl was considered one of them. But now she has been found – over a hundred miles from her first home. She has been raised by an amazing woman. Now they have both been united with that girl's birth parents. Talk about being tossed to and fro.

 

There are the realities of Gaza, of Syria, of Iraq, of the Ebola outbreak in Liberia and Nigeria. There are the tragedies of people being struck by cars, whether they are walking, cycling, running, driving. These seem to be just news items. But then something happens to us, or to someone we personally care about. Illness or another tragedy. Then we realize that we are in the same boat! Sometimes we are blown right out of our boats.

 

Many of the early disciples knew a lot about the boats of their time. Some of them were fishermen. Nevertheless, such knowledge couldn't guarantee their safety. There are forces that overcome human knowledge, expertise. One night those disciples are out in their boat. Jesus has even sent them on this trip. A storm comes up. The boatmen are fighting it with all they have. They aren't afraid of the storm. It's not the first nor the last storm they will be in. In the middle of the night Jesus approaches them but in a way that they could never have expected. Is it possible that Jesus sometimes approaches us in ways we don't expect – maybe in our fear, or through an enemy, or someone we didn't think was all that "special"?

 

Now Jesus comes to them in this storm, walking on the water, treading on what for them would have been seen as a place where chaos or evil could have erupted. They didn't imagine Jesus would come to them, in the midst of this chaos. His walking on the water frightens, even terrifies them. They wonder if that which approaches them is a ghost. Many of us, when confronted by ghosts are likewise terrified...

 

IMMEDIATELY, in the midst of their fear Jesus speaks to them. "TAKE HEART, IT IS I. Do not be afraid!"

 

What can we do with this – with Jesus speaking to us in the midst of our fears, "Take heart!" He is with us!  Will we, might we trust him, enough to take heart, to keep on moving, even to begin following him despite the danger, the resistance, the uncertainty of how it will all turn out? (Pause)

 

Peter is an interesting guy. He has some faith. He doesn't just sit there like a bump on a log. He doesn't intellectualize about what's going on in some detached fashion. He responds. "If it is you Lord, command me to come to you on the water."

 

Jesus says, "COME!"

 

Miraculously, Peter does. Getting out of the boat into the crashing waves, he begins to move toward Jesus!

 

But then Peter notices the howling wind, the height of the waves. Fear overtakes him. Peter, the rock, begins to sink. He urgently cries out, "Lord, save me!"

 

What happens next? (Pause)

 

Jesus IMMEDIATELY reaches out his hand and catches him.

 

Then Jesus says to Peter, "You of little faith, why did you doubt?"

 

I have often wondered how Jesus says this. Was it with a tone of condemnation: "You of LITTLE faith, why did you DOUBT?"

 

Or was Jesus' question uttered with love and a consternation that sometimes flows from such love, a consternation that is tempered by hope? Peter has little faith. But this isn't a bad thing. In Matthew, little faith can move mountains, grow into a weedy tree that brings shelter to all kinds of amazing creatures.     

 

Perhaps we are in the same boat as Peter. Our faith like Peter's may vacillate. That's what doubt is, vacillation. Sometimes we forget God. "Summertime and the living is easy – fish are jumping and the river is high". We may forget God, not pray, not worship on holidays – forgetting that holidays are really holy days, days set aside both for us to rest and to joyfully thank God.

 

But when the chaos hits, when the tsunami strikes, when illness draws near, when we lose our job or God forbid our memories – well then like Peter as we are sinking down, sinking down, may we also desperately and perhaps hopefully cry out, "Lord save us."

 

Don't we see, that whatever our storm God in Jesus has been moving toward our boat all the time? Can't we see that in Jesus God gets right into our boat, not just in the nave of this building but everywhere we go? Unlike Peter, we don't have to test Jesus' "identity". Isn't dying for us and being raised for us enough for us to know that God loves us, that God is with us?.

 

 With those early disciples we also can take heart. Even though the storm is raging, no forces of evil or tragedy can separate us from him.

 

So, we can move on. By God's grace and power we can do what Jesus calls us to. Even when we are beset by fear, encountered and battered by forces so much greater than ourselves, He is our Saviour. He reaches out to grab us, to lift us up out of whatever depths we are ensnared by.  He will not let us go!! And in that, dear people is our hope, our life, our deliverance, our salvation. Lord, as you call us to come, may we so follow, whatever the storm.  Amen.