9th
Sunday after Pentecost
July 22, 2018
John 6:1-15
This story of Jesus feeding 5,000 men
plus women and children is a familiar one to many of us, so let’s change it up
a little bit. What would it look like if it happened in a church today?[1]
The Finance team would echo Philip’s concern that it would be really expensive
to feed this many people. Those on Outreach might reinforce Andrew’s position
that there’s not enough money in the budget to cover this project. Worship
probably wouldn’t even give an opinion, because they’d be getting ready for the
fast-approaching religious festival. The Trustees would help everyone get
seated on the lawn, although some might worry about the effects of this event
on the church’s landscaping. And if a church did act according to those
caricatures, then they’d miss that a miracle was about to happen. Their
expectations would be for things to go exactly as planned, no more, no less. Their
actions would be simply to ensure the survival of the church, and not to allow
room for God to work. Ministry is about doing your best, expecting others to do
their best, and leaving space for God to break through. If you put God in a
box, if you put the church in a box, then you’re going to miss ways that God
can work.
The doxology we read in Ephesians is one
of my top favorite verses in the Bible. “To him who is able to do immeasurably
more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within
us.”[2]
God is able to do far more than anything we can ask or imagine. God can make a
way where there seems to be no way. That’s what a miracle is. An eight year old
who doctors didn’t think would live past age two. Surviving a car accident that
totaled the car. Falling in love again after being devastated by an ex. Feeding
5,000 people with five loaves and two fish. Don’t put a limit on what God can
do. Then you’ll miss what God is doing. And certainly don’t tell God “never.” I
was so burnt out after finishing my master’s in education, I said I’d never go
back to school. [Pause.] A mere four years later, I started seminary.
Dave showed me his Ironman pin
last weekend. If he hadn’t told me that’s what it was, I would have thought he
got it at Cokesbury or another Christian retailer. It said, “Anything is
possible,” which is the trademark for the Ironman triathlons. It’s also a
variation of what the angel tells Mary, just after saying Mary’s about to
become pregnant with Jesus and her barren cousin, Elizabeth, is six months
pregnant, “Nothing is impossible with God.”[3]
Another way of saying this is what Paul tells the Philippians, “I can do
everything through him who gives me strength.”[4]
And, to the Ephesians, God can accomplish abundantly far more than all we can
ask or imagine through his power at
work within us. Anything is possible
with God. So don’t limit God. Don’t think God can do this but God can’t do
that. God can’t redeem that person. God can’t use a certain person. God can’t
act in this way. Unh-Unh. Anything is possible with God.
The second thing we learn about God in
this story is that our God is a God of abundance. Our God is not a god of
scarcity, which seems, ironically enough, to be in abundance these days. We
hear from so many places: there’s not enough. I have to get mine now or I might
not get it at all. I have to get what I want. I deserve what I want. Some of
this scarcity is created: companies who only make a limited amount of product.
Disney putting movies in a vault for fifty years, so you better buy it now! A
mindset of scarcity is based on fear. There’s not enough room. There’s not
enough food. There’s not enough money. There aren’t enough Tickle-Me Elmo’s or
Build-a-Bear’s or whatever the latest craze is. We’re afraid that what we want
is going to be sold out. I have to have mine, and I’m so fearful for it that
I’m going to hoard it, I’m not going
to share it, it’s mine and if there’s not enough, then too bad for you. Jesus
tells a parable about a guy who says the exact same thing.[5]
This guy’s a farmer, and a rich farmer, because he doesn’t do the work himself.
He owns all the fields and has servants do the sowing and harvesting and stores
his grain in bigger, better warehouses. He does not share his grain and you
know he does not pay those servants well. What does God tell this rich
businessman? “You fool! This very night you will die and then who will get what
you prepared for yourself?” Jesus ends the parable by telling the crowd that
“This is how it will be with anyone who stores up things for himself but is not
rich toward God.” Those who stores up things for themselves have a mindset of
scarcity. Not enough.
Those who are rich toward God share
God’s mindset of abundance. “Give and it will be given to you. A good measure,
pressed down, shaken together, and running over will be poured into your lap.” This
is the promise Jesus makes in Luke 6. Have a mindset of abundance, as in so
much that everyone eats all they want and
there are still twelves baskets of
food leftover! Don’t worry about there not being enough to go around. There will be. There will be enough and more than enough. You don’t have to
hoard it. Don’t be greedy. In the Lord’s Prayer we ask God to “give us our
daily bread,”[6]
not today’s and tomorrow’s bread, or next
week’s bread. Just today’s bread.
Enough for today. Let tomorrow worry
about tomorrow.[7]
You know when the Israelites tried to collect manna for tomorrow it went bad
before tomorrow got here.[8]
Trust that there will be enough. You don’t have to worry about getting your
slice of the pie. God’s got a bigger pie. And more pie. I’m starting to get
hungry here.
So, let’s talk about bread, and pie.
When you pull that pie out of the oven and it looks all nice and hot and steamy
and smells delicious (anyone else hungry yet?), does it ever look too good to
eat? Not in my house! In my house it looks good enough to eat! I rarely have
any qualms about digging in. But every now and then I pause first. I take a
picture of the kids’ birthday cakes before we cut into them. Every now and then
I pause to appreciate how the cake or pie or bread or whatever it is looks
whole. But you can’t share it around the table if it stays whole. The birthday
cake gets cut up. The bread gets broken. It has to be broken before it can be
shared, just like I showed the kids at children’s time. You have to peel off
the husk and the silk of an ear of corn in order to get to the kernels. A seed
has to die in order to produce a plant. It may be the best seed there ever was,
but it won’t reach its potential as a great crop unless you take it and plant
it and the seed breaks open for the plant to grow.
This is where we’re getting with
following Henri Nouwen’s “Life of the Beloved.” We are taken, we are chosen by
God, we are blessed, and we offer blessing to others, we are broken, we know
this, and then we are given, we are shared. We are taken, blessed, and broken,
in order to be given for others. This is what Jesus did with those five loaves
of bread and two fish. He took the loaves, gave thanks (blessed them), and
distributed them among the crowd, meaning he broke them and he gave them out.
Then Jesus did the same with the fish. And it’s the same pattern we do at
communion. We take the bread, we bless it, we break it, and then it is given to
each of us. The bread has to be broken in order to be given. And same with our
lives. Nouwen writes that he “clearly does not mean that we should inflict pain
on each other or others to make us better givers. Even though a broken glass
can shine brightly, only a fool will break glass to make it shine! As mortal
people, brokenness is a reality of our existence, and as we befriend it and
place it under the blessing, we will discover how much we have to give – much
more than we may ever have dreamed.”[9]
And when we break bread together, when we eat together, whether here at church
or elsewhere, it’s because we want to be give our lives to each other, it’s
because we want “to be given to each other in our brokenness.”[10]
I had lunch with a church member this past week and I’ll tell you, when the
conversation really got going was when we each shared about our chronic health
conditions and all the medications we each take and how often and for how many
years! And it wasn’t a competition, there was no oneupmanship. It was a sharing
and a building not of sympathy, but of empathy,
because we each know what it’s like for the other. Sharing a meal together is
vulnerable, because we don’t always know how others are going to react to our
brokenness, because we’re afraid of showing our brokenness. My husband and I
feel like eating out with our kids puts our parenting skills on full display,
for better or worse. Yet the greatest gift you can give someone is the gift of
yourself, warts and all.
You are a gift. No,
you’re not perfect, no one is. Hopefully you’re aware of both your strengths
and your weaknesses, or, your growing edges. And they are all there for you to
offer to others. God can do far more with you than you can. Don’t hoard
yourself up like grain in the rich fool’s barn. Don’t worry that you’re not
tall enough, old enough, young enough, short enough, smart enough, good enough,
or any other enough. You are enough.
You are a gift. And gifts are made to be shared.
[1] Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol. 3, p.
284
[2]
Ephesians 3:20
[3]
Luke 1:37
[4]
Philippians 4:13
[5]
Luke 12:16-21
[6]
Matthew 6:11
[7]
Matthew 6:34
[8]
Exodus 16:20
[9] Life of the Beloved, Henri Nouwen, p.
110
[10]
Ibid.
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