| ||||
|
It’s Stewardship Sunday again, and I just wanted to let you know before you settle into your pew too comfortably. When Jesus was in Bethany, on his way to Jerusalem to die, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume made of pure nard. She broke the jar and poured the perfume on Jesus’ head. And Mark tells us that “some of those present were angry at the woman.” “Why this waste of perfume?” they demanded. “That perfume was worth more than a whole year’s wages, and it could have been sold and the money given to the poor.” And they rebuked the woman harshly. But Jesus said, “Leave her alone. Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing for me. The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them anytime you want to.” What has always grabbed my attention in this story about Jesus is the “you.” You see, the disciples were awfully quick to tell someone else how she should use what belonged to her, quick to tell her that she should have used her wealth to help the poor. And Jesus, in turn, was quick to tell the disciples that there are lots of poor to go around, and that this woman’s gift to him did not prevent the disciples from helping the poor with what belonged to them anytime they wanted to. “You, Peter and James and John, can help the poor at any time you want to with what is yours.” Jesus uses this same emphatic “you” in today’s Gospel reading. “These hungry people need not go away,” said Jesus. You give them something to eat yourselves. That’s the force of the imperative form of the Greek here. Jesus, by his choice of words, and maybe by his tone of voice as well, is pointing to the disciples: “You give them something to eat yourselves.” “But we don’t have much,” the disciples complained. “We have only five loaves and two fish, hardly enough to feed ourselves.” The multiplication of the loaves and fish is found in all four Gospels, and in Mark and Matthew it is found twice. No other event from Jesus’ life is told by the evangelists so many times, so they clearly believed it was an important event. We often call it a miracle. But the evangelists do not call it a miracle. Matthew, Mark, and Luke don’t call it anything; they just tell what happened. And John says it is a sign, not a miracle. In any case, what does it mean? What is it a sign of? One thing it’s a sign of is the disciples’ assumption of an economy of scarcity. We understand them, don’t we, because it’s an assumption all of us are quick to make. The disciples, like us, were helpless when they considered only their own resources: “How can we possibly do all that needs to be done for all these hungry people with the little bit we have? Why, we have hardly enough to take care of our own hunger! How can we possibly feed all these people with only our five loaves of bread and two little fish?” But the second thing I see in this event in Jesus’ life is that Jesus does not make the same assumption. Jesus works from an assumption of abundance, not an assumption of scarcity, and when the disciples gave what they had to Jesus and let him bless it and break it and give it back to them to distribute, then five thousand men, plus all the women and children and the disciples themselves, were fed. All were satisfied, and there was even a surplus left over. If you want some rational explanation of how this event happened, you won’t get it from me. I haven’t a clue! It’s just that this is the way all the evangelists report it – not once, but six times – that first the disciples thought about how little they had, and they gave what they had to Jesus, who blessed it, and then great things happened. It was similar with Nehemiah. God sent Nehemiah back to Jerusalem from exile in Babylon to do an overwhelming job, to rebuild the city wall. And Nehemiah gathered the builders together while others stood around and sneered and said, ”What do you feeble Jews think you're up to? Why look at this wall! You don’t even have the right materials. What you’re trying to do is impossible.” Then, later, Nehemiah’s own workers began to lose heart. “We can’t do it, Nehemiah! Our strength is limited, and our enemies are even threatening to kill us to put an end to this work.” But Nehemiah said, “Well, then, half of us will stand guard, and the other half will work with one hand and carry their spears in the other.” So they kept working. But later, they began to complain again. “Nehemiah,” they grumbled, “we’re running out of money, and we need food to stay alive. We have mortgages to meet and bills to pay, and times are bad, and God can’t really expect us to do this work and pay for all this when we’ve got other commitments, too, and the economy’s in a slump, and some of our brothers are even charging us interest, and what with living conditions being what they are right now, and...and....” And Nehemiah said, ”Share!” And they did. The work continued, and the wall was completed. In fifty-two days it was completed, because Nehemiah refused to be intimidated by an assumption of scarcity or by the fear of danger, and because he expected God to lead them to succeed in doing what God had sent them to do. And so, under Nehemiah’s leadership, the people persisted. The multiplication of the loaves and fish and Nehemiah’s rebuilding of the Wall of Jerusalem are, as John says, signs. They are signs of the Church. Signs, acted parables, of what the Church is. “Do we understand all these things?” Jesus asks. Much of human history is the story of our fear of scarcity, which is really a fear of the future. When God brought us out of slavery in Egypt, Nehemiah reminds us, “we feared what lay ahead of us. We feared the freedom with which God had blessed us, and we began to grumble and to long for the “good old days” of slavery in Egypt, where we were slaves but where at least we didn’t have to wonder where our next meal was coming from. But God did not abandon us in our difficulties. He provided water to drink and manna and quail to eat and pillars of cloud and fire to guide us on our way. And “our clothes did not wear out,” the Scriptures remind us, “nor did our feet become swollen.” And God gave us a good land in Canaan, a land flowing with milk and honey, a land ripe with vineyards and olive groves and fruit trees in abundance. “Do we long for the past,” David Vickers asked in an article about Colorado in a recent Cheyenne Edition, “or do we just fear the future?” It’s an important question, not only about potential changes in the state we live in, but about human beings, a basic question about life itself. Do we long for the “good old days” or do we just fear that God will not provide? Do we assume a god of scarcity or do we trust the God of blessing and abundance? The world is a mess, we say. Wall Street has been flat for five years, and it’s no wonder because there is violence and mayhem and war and uncertainty at every turn, and the people are hungry. and there’s not enough to go around. And Jesus takes what we have to give him, and he blesses it and breaks it and gives it back to the disciples to distribute to those who hungered. The assumption of Jesus, you see, is the assumption of the abundance of God’s grace, rather than the assumption of scarcity. Jesus’ feeding of the multitudes moves from scarcity -- “We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish” – to plenty – ”...and all ate and were filled, and they gathered up twelve basketfuls of food that was left over.” The commodities in shortest supply in today’s events in Scriptural are imagination and commitment and faith, a scarcity of faith that God is able to supply, of faith that God does not mean for any to be sent away empty, and of faith that Jesus will give us what we need to give the world what it needs. Is it possible that God’s creative power among us is restricted, just as it was restricted among the disciples that day in Galilee, only by the limits of our expectations and vision? Limited only by our limited capacity to trust in God's power? Limited only by our failure to commit our loaf, or our dollar, or our shoulder? “They need not go away,” Jesus said to the disciples, and says now to us on this Stewardship Sunday, 2005: “You give them something to eat yourselves.” Like Jesus’ parables, this story is a sign, a sign of the kingdom of heaven. And the Church is the sacrament, the outward and visible and very physical sign of that kingdom, a physical sign of God’s continuing to feed his people now. But notice how Jesus did it. If the disciples were waiting for a thunderstorm of loaves and fishes to fall from the skies, they were surely disappointed, because Jesus did not call down manna from heaven to feed the hungry multitude. That would have been some show! Bread and fish raining down from the skies! But Jesus did not do that. Instead, he said to his disciples, “ You give them something to eat yourselves. You have five loaves of bread and two fish. You are not without resources. Give me what you have.” And he took their offering, and he blessed it and broke it, and then he gave it back to the disciples who distributed it among the people. And all who were there ate and were satisfied, five thousand men, plus women and children, and they even picked up twelve baskets full of food left over! There are some who are spiritually hungry who bounce from church to church always looking to “be fed,” and often complaining about not being fed. “We just weren’t fed at that church.” Perhaps you’ve heard it. Perhaps you’ve said it. Would you be fed? Then feed! Would you learn more about the ways of God? Then teach! And expect, in doing so, to learn yourself. It’s just a fact, that what makes for a good and effective Sunday School for children and young people is the active participation of adults. If parents and other adults don’t give of themselves to the Christian education of our children and youth, then, dear friends in Christ, there just isn’t any way to expect much? It is in the giving that one receives. Would you be served by Christ’s Church in a time of crisis, at a time when you are in need of comfort and strength? Then offer such service to another in his time of need. Would you be blessed by good music in worship and by the praises of God’s people? Then, for heaven's sake, sing! Would you be welcomed in a new and strange place, perhaps in a new city or neighborhood or church? Then welcome the stranger among you here, remembering that the stranger among you is anyone you do not know, even if he or she has been your fellow parishioner for twenty years! Would you be remembered in prayer in your time of need? Then pray for others in theirs. Would you be forgiven the sins you have committed? Then, for heaven's sake – literally, for the sake of heaven – forgive others the sins they have committed against you. Would you be fed? Would you have bread for your own soul? Then feed those who are hungry. That’s the way it works. Give what you have to those who are hungry in body and soul, and then, when Christ has received and blessed and broken what you offer, expect to be fed yourself. “Do we understand all these things?” Jesus asks. Here’s a final kingdom parable: “I had seen poverty before,” the man said. “I had seen even poverty such as this. The man at my door was asking only for something to eat, so I gave him a morsel of bread from my full loaf. I gave as one who had much to one who had not. I gave hoping he would then go away and let me have my morning coffee in peace. He apparently knew this attitude. He responded accordingly, a little bow of the head, a muttered thank you, and then he moved away from my door and out of my sight. “I didn’t think about him again until I saw him again, at church the next Sunday. There he was standing in line waiting to proceed to the altar. The man who had begged for food at my door now stood just two persons ahead of me in line, waiting to beg for another kind of bread. “All of a sudden I knew this man, for in him I saw myself, a beggar man before the Lord. The two of us in the same bread line, indistinguishable. For I, too, have to present myself at the Lord’s table without one plea, without a claim in the world to make except my own need, and my trust that He will provide.” And the Lord says, ”They need not go away. You give them something to eat!” In the Name of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen. |