Let us offer abundance...

Sermon

August 02, 2020

Proper 13

Matthew 14:13-21

I don't know about you – but I do know about me, and I am tired. Tired of the anxieties, worries, and concerns that surround the unceasing pandemic of Covid 19.  Anxieties over contracting the virus ourselves. Worries over friends and families who have been infected, many of whom have died. Concerns for the state of our mental health, and that of others, as we head into month six of self-imposed isolation and social contact only through the gift of the Internet.

Yes, I am tired, and perhaps you are too.

But when I began to reflect on today's gospel reading something interesting happened to me. And, to a great extent my tiredness fell away. What happened, well here it is…For some reason, Jesus came vibrantly alive in a new way for me.

When I say came alive in a vibrant and new way, I mean that I saw Jesus as a fellow human being. A young man attempting to convey to those whom he encountered Good News. News that addressed the pain and the suffering that the Jews in Galilee were experiencing at the hands of the Roman Empire. The Good News that the one God of the Jewish faith – the sovereign God who brought the world into being, who blessed Abraham to be a blessing to all nations; the God who brought the Israelites back from exile – that God was present - always. Present continually to bless and heal. Present continually to bring peace to all those who turned to him.

This young man, poor, dusty, and with "no place to lay his head." This young man whose relationship with God sent him into our world to relentlessly and with incredible courage teach, heal, and guide us into a right relationship with God – this young man in the face of all that he had and would encounter, this young man must be really tired.

Just prior to today's gospel reading that relates the story of the feeding of the five thousand, Jesus had been discredited and rejected by the people of his hometown, Nazareth, as he taught in the local synagogue. Unable to "do many works because of their unbelief", he quickly left Nazareth, only to hear that his close friend, John the Baptist, the man whom he had asked to baptize him, had been beheaded by Herod.

After these two events this young man needed some alone time. He found himself on the shores of the Sea of Galilee. It is there that today's gospel story begins.

I imagine Jesus getting into a small wooden boat and silently drifting out into the Sea of Galilee trying to adsorb the events of the past few days, reflecting on to what and to where God was calling him next - wanting just a bit of time to be with God, to pray, to re-group, to gather the strength to carry on. In this little boat he had found a quiet place – a place to spend some alone time.

And then before he knew it, crowds surrounded him. They had followed him on foot from surrounding towns. They were yearning for his healing words, for his message of hope in these times of Roman domination.

And this tired young man responded to the crowd's yearning with compassion. Matthew tells us, "When he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them and cured their sick." And, as evening drew near, the disciples urged Jesus to send the crowd away. They knew that people must be hungry and tired. Perhaps they were afraid of unrest among some of the more unruly members of the crowd – remember there were reportedly 5000 people. That is a big crowd with a lot of diversity within it.

The disciples said to Jesus, "This place is deserted, and the hour is already late. Send the multitudes away, that they may go into the villages, and buy themselves food."

Jesus said to them, "They need not go away; you give them something to eat." "You." Jesus lays it on the shoulders of the disciples to find the resources to feed the crowd.

The disciples, perhaps somewhat bewildered, responded, "We only have here five loaves and two fish." The disciples were seeing only what they did not have. They failed to consider what they did have. As one sermon writer suggested, "The disciples have five loaves and two fish – seven items. In the disciples' hands, five loaves and two fish are not much, but there are other hands here – Jesus' hands. They really have eight items."

Jesus ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And "all ate and were filled."

Amazing – an amazing story of compassion, abundance, and a foretaste of the Eucharistic meal. Also a story reminiscent of the manna miracle; the edible substance that God provided for the Israelites during their travels in the desert during the 40-year period following the Exodus and prior to the conquest of Canaan.

Today's gospel passage conveys a story of compassion. Jesus saw the crowd, had compassion on them, and healed those who were sick.

It is an abundance story in which God's providence solves a problem that seems impossibly large.

It is also a Eucharistic story with its overtones of the Lord's Supper.

In all, it is a continuation of the story of this young man, Jesus of Nazareth. A young man who, despite his need for time alone after being rejected by his townspeople and hearing of the brutal death of his friend John the Baptist, rose to his call from God. A tired young man who in compassion was moved to respond to those who sought comfort and healing; to those who were seeking God. A tired young man who insisted that his disciples participate in offering the incredible abundance that becomes possible when asking the blessing of God. A tired young man who knows only one way – the way of compassion and peace. The way of love and the way of forgiveness. The way of God, not the way of the Empire.

It is this young Jesus that came so vividly alive in my mind this past week. And as I reflected on the possibilities that may have given rise to this story, which by the way appears in all four gospels, I thought more and more about the importance of listening for and responding to God's call for us, his disciples, no matter how tired we may be.

I also thought about the disciples' fear that they lacked enough food – enough to provide for the crowd. I thought about Jesus' insistence that they bring the loaves to him for God's blessing. And then, his command that they distribute the bread – the disciples, not Jesus, were to do the work of providing for the crowd.

That brings me back to the concept of "tired."

Am I, are we, too tired by – that could translate into too numbed by – the dual pandemics – Covid 19 and political unrest - to listen for God's voice in the tsunami of media messages that wash over us each day? Are we too tired to make the effort to take our concerns, our anxieties, our fears – our scarcities -to God? Are we too tired to realize that once presented to God these scarcities are frequently turned into abundance for us to distribute to those who have appeared on our horizon seeking healing - seeking God?

Are we too tired to have the hope that by lifting our voices to God – all of us together asking for abundance – too tired to have the hope that we will bring forth the compassion and healing that the young man from Nazareth has to offer? Are we too tired to realize that healing is possible but only if we get out of our boat and go into the field to meet scarcity head-on, knowing that Jesus has blessed us and has commanded us – his disciples – to distribute the bread, the abundance – the healing and the peace.

Are we too tired to allow abundance to prevail?

I now have the vivid image of this young man, Jesus, firmly implanted in my mind. I am still tired, but I know that I can overcome this tiredness, if I just get up and go. Jesus is there to heal my tiredness and to bless my scarcity so that it becomes abundance. With abundance, I, we, can do so much in this broken world.

The fallout from the unceasing presence Covid 19 and political unrest continues to take a great toll on the health – physical, socio-political, and economic of our nation. The on-going bickering that pervades every level of society and is the order of the day on so many different social media platforms has created an atmosphere of disinformation, anxiety, and mistrust of every aspect of society and government.

I believe we have a right to be tired, but we cannot be tired. The young man is out of the boat. He is in the field with a crowd of 5000. He is asking us to distribute abundance. An abundance that will lead to healing and freedom from scarcity.  AMEN

Try and find Jesus on your own...

SERMON

Sunday Closest to July 5

Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30

I am no different than millions of other people who love music. I subscribe to Pandora, the American music streaming and automated music recommendation internet radio service. I listen to my music favorites, the "Thumbs up" option, most often while I am having breakfast and getting ready for work. This means that listening to Pandora coincides with my time in the shower – where, also, just like millions of other people, I do my best thinking.

Last Friday, just as I stepped out of the shower, the song Spanish Pipedream was playing. Spanish Pipedream, John Prine's classic love song, was written and originally released in 1971 by John Prine on his self-titled debut album. In that same year it was also performed by John Denver on his album Aerie. Both versions are spectacular – I commend them to you.

Spanish Pipedream is a song about a soldier who meets a topless dancer in a bar on his way to Montreal. The soldier recounts his story saying:

She was a level-headed dancer on the road to alcohol
And I was just a soldier on my way to Montreal.
Well she pressed her chest against me
About the time the juke box broke
Yeah, she gave me a peck on the back of the neck
And these are the words she spoke.

Blow up your TV, throw away your paper.
Go to the country, build you a home.
Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches.
Try and find Jesus on your own.

By the end of the song it is clear that they took the dancer's advice. Here's how it goes:

Well, I was young and hungry and about to leave that place.
When just as I was leavin', well she looked me in the face.
I said "You must know the answer."
"She said, "No but I'll give it a try."
And to this very day we've been livin' our way
And here is the reason why.

We blew up our TV threw away our paper.
Went to the country, built us a home.
Had a lot of children, fed 'em on peaches.
They all found Jesus on their own.

Well, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why this brief, but powerful, song caught my attention – "…blow up your TV and throw away your paper." Sound like something you might want to do?

I am sure that many, if not all, of us quite often fantasize about doing something akin to this as moment by moment, day by day various media platforms spew forth headlines designed to grab one's attention. Keeping up with what is important, and what is not important can be exhausting. Frequently depressing and anxiety producing. Our eyes and ears – our minds - have become targets of a non-stop barrage of informational tidbits and proclamations of how things should be – how we should feel, think, act. Our entire beings are saturated with unceasing stimuli of all sorts.

"…blow up your TV and throw away your paper." Sound advice that points us in a direction to a quieter time – a time when we can figuratively “Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches. Try and find Jesus on our own.”

Paul in today’s rather circuitous but ultimately quite true passage from Romans describes our human dilemma of unceasing inner conflict. Inner conflict that when recognized leads us to seek a place in which we can truly discern who we are and how we are living our lives. Prine’s lyrics of removing ourselves to a place of quiet – a place where we can plant our garden anew; a place of solitude in which to hear God’s voice sounds like good advice.

As Christians we want to do the right thing, but sometimes the massive diversity of innumerable incoming media messages so distracts us that we fail to act as we had intended. Sometimes, through exhaustion and confusion, we find ourselves not even caring if we are doing the right thing or not. Sometimes we fall away from God’s path for us.

As Christians, at our baptism we are anointed by God. We die to sin and are resurrected to a new life in which we have renounced evil. However, our sanctification is not instantaneous. It is instead a process that continues throughout our lives, through continual repentance and returning, only to be fully realized in death - at our resurrection. It is our dilemma as Christians that try as hard as we might we continue to stand with one foot in the kingdom of this world and the other foot in the kingdom of God.

We find ourselves continually caught in the tension of these two worlds, frequently dismayed by our own actions.  Failing to do the things that we want to do and instead doing the things that we have vowed not to do. There is an unceasing war going on within us and sin sometimes prevails.

As Paul puts it, “So I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of my God in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members.”

– "…blow up your TV and throw away your paper."

Matthew’s gospel passage offers us hope. The hope offered through our understanding of God’s love for all his beloved. An eternal love made known to us through the gift of his Son, Jesus Christ. Hope that we can step away from the noisy and divisive chatter that engulfs us. Hope that we can let go of the inner struggles that cause us discord. Hope that if we follow the teachings of Christ, teachings that lead us on a path that calls for repentance, compassion, and love – love of God and love of neighbor – hope that we will find peace.

The distressing rhetoric of anger, hate and the destructive and troubling acts of violence that torment our world can be set aside, put in perspective, but only through returning and repenting. Only through hearing Jesus’ invitation, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Jesus is not beset by anger, distrust, envy, or a need to acquire power. No, Jesus is content to serve, to love, and to have compassion for those who are suffering, those who bear the burden of poverty, discrimination, and illness – a much easier route – an easy yoke. And, he is asking us to join him by carrying a similarly easy yoke. A quieter, more peaceful way of life in which it is God, not the TV or the newspaper that drives our thoughts and our actions.

Reconciliation with God, assuming the easier yoke of Christ, does not happen without work. Work that requires an honest look at ourselves. We cannot repent and return unless we know where we have been, what we have done, what we are doing that is taking us down a path that diverges from God’s will for us.

Bishop Desmond Tutu said in a recent interview, “True reconciliation is never cheap, for it is based on forgiveness which is costly. Forgiveness in turn depends on repentance, which has to be based on an acknowledgment of what was done wrong, and therefore on disclosure of the truth. You cannot forgive what you do not know.”

“Repentance has to be based on an acknowledgment of what was done wrong, and therefore on disclosure of the truth. You cannot forgive what you do not know.”

We cannot assume the easier yoke of Christ without repentance. We must understand the truth of our actions both corporate and individual. In order to forgive, or to be forgiven, we must know the truth of what went wrong.

In this time of Covid-19, a world pandemic with millions infected and over a quarter of a million souls dead in just a few short months. In this time of unprecedented political instability. In this time of renewed efforts to ensure justice for all. We as Christians must make every effort to hear Paul’s analysis of mankind’s plight. If listened to carefully it calls us to examine ourselves carefully. We must be able to say, for example, “You know, I think I do judge harshly” in order to engage in an examination of when, why, and with whom we do harshly judge.

In order to assume Jesus’ easy yoke, we must repent. Hard work, that was made a bit easier for me by John Prine’s advice. Advice that put a big smile on my face and brought the joy of laughter into my life. Besides. It’s good advice. Can we profit from it?

Blow up your TV, throw away your paper.
Go to the country, build you a home.
Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches.
Try and find Jesus on your own