Pentecost 10B
July 29, 2018
John 6:1-21
INTRODUCTION
The past six
weeks we have been hearing from Mark’s Gospel; before that we were in John’s
Gospel. Today we return to John for a few weeks, as we feast upon the “bread of
life” discourse. So before we get into that, let me remind you of a few things
in John’s Gospel. John is characterized by seven significant “signs” (or
miracles) of Jesus. Jesus performs the sign, then there’s some conversation
about it, and then he spends a good amount of time explaining why it matters.
Today we will hear about two of those
signs, one right after the other (so the usual pattern is a little different
from usual), and in the next few weeks we’ll get into the part about why they
matter. For now, keep in mind a few of the themes we see in John: that Jesus is
God dwelling among us, and so also the one who makes it possible for us to have
an abiding relationship with God; and that God is the abundant provider of all
things needed for life.
One other thing to listen for that
might not be obvious through the translation: another feature of John’s Gospel
is that Jesus identifies himself throughout as I AM. It hearkens back to Moses
at the burning bush, when God tells Moses that God’s name is, “I AM.” In coming
weeks, Jesus will identify himself as, “I am the bread of life.” But he also
identifies himself as I AM today, when he approaches the disciples on the boat.
The rendering in English is, “It is I,” but the word is the same: he is identifying
himself as God.
John does a
good job of telling us people’s emotions. As you listen today, notice the
emotions, and also consider what might be causing those particular feelings and
reactions to what is going on.
[READ]
Grace to you and peace from God our
Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
It has been
a gradual process this summer getting Isaac interested in going in the water. Grace
loves the water, and can’t get enough of it. Isaac wasn’t so sure. The first
couple times we went swimming, Grace would jump in, ready to swim, Isaac would
hang back and observe, with a slightly concerned, dubious look on his face.
“Isaac, you wanna come in the water?” we’d ask. He’d respond an adamant, “No.” Now
he’s a bigger fan of the water, but generally, at least when he first
encounters something unknown, he will always err on the side of caution.
I admit I’m
glad for this trait in him. As much as I admire Grace’s adventurous spirit,
knowing that Isaac has that little bit of fear in him eases my own fear a bit.
I’m fine with him being cautious! A little bit of healthy fear is good for
keeping us safe, no?
Of course,
too much fear isn’t a good thing either. Fear can be crippling. It can hold us
back and keep us from living into who God calls us to be. It can destroy
relationships. It can cause us to act cruelly or hatefully toward one another
in an effort to keep ourselves safe, emotionally or intellectually. While a
little fear can be a good thing, great fear can also be a very bad thing.
I’ve been thinking about fear,
because I see it in both of these signs Jesus performs today. Well, not in the
signs themselves, but in people’s reactions to them. In the walking-on-water
story, it is obvious. Not that I blame the disciples for being afraid – not
only was it stormy, but I’d also be pretty terrified to see my friend walking
toward me on top of the water! Their fear is so great that Jesus has to remind
them of who he is (I AM – God with you), and then tell them, “Don’t be afraid!”
But I think there is also some fear in
the feeding story that precedes the storm. The disciples are afraid they won’t have enough food to
feed all those people. They are afraid
of their scarcity. Philip immediately looks at their budget and sees this will
not work – “Six months wages wouldn’t be enough!” Numbers don’t lie; there is
not enough. Andrew tries to think out of the box a little bit, looking at what
other resources and assets they have beyond money – maybe someone here has
something to share? And, turns out, someone does: a young boy, willing to share
his lunch with Jesus and the crowd. But still, it is clearly not enough.
Whenever we get in that mindset of
“not enough,” there is, underlying it, that pesky emotion: fear.
Fear of not
enough – it is such an ordinary fear, really. It is not usually debilitating,
but it is a fear we regularly face, sometimes on a daily basis. For middle
class folks, it’s not usually about lack of food like in the story, but it
often rears its head in financial matters: Will I have enough money to retire
when I want to? Will I have enough to send my kids to college? Do I have enough
to risk being generous with my financial giving? We look at the numbers, like
Philip, and make what we discern to be savvy decisions, in hopes that we will,
in fact, have enough.
Of course
the question of enough also comes to us in other forms, often in the form of
self-esteem. When I applied to seminary, several people told me to apply to
Yale, and my first thought of course was, “I’m not smart or accomplished enough
to go to Yale.” Women, especially, though also men, are often plagued by the
worry that their bodies are not enough: not skinny enough or curvy enough or strong
enough. Some of us are shy to meet new people because we’re afraid we won’t be
interesting enough, or clever enough, or good-looking enough to make a good
impression. You see, everywhere we look we see the fear of “not enough” – just
like the disciples. How often this perception of life deters us from gratitude
for what we do have!
And, how often our preoccupation with
“enough” deters us from the opportunity to serve others. I read a story from a
woman who served as a pastor in Nairobi, Kenya. One day, three young men came
into her office. They were ragged and dirty, but had smiles on their faces.
They asked if they could sing for her. She said of course, and they sang the
most beautiful a cappella rendition of Amazing Grace, in their native language.
She said it was like angel music, the kind that gives you goose bumps.
Then they shared with her their
story. They were refugees from Rwanda. They had been university students, but
when war broke out, they left the country with only the clothes on their backs
and the song in their hearts. They didn’t know where their families were. They
had often barely had enough to eat. They had learned to be grateful for their
lives each day, and though they could never find the words for the prayer they
wanted to offer to God, they could always sing Amazing Grace, and they knew God
would understand their prayer. They had come that day seeking assistance – they
had found a room for $8/month. They had no furniture, but would gladly sleep on
the floor. Could the church help by paying the $8, plus a little extra for food
- $12 a month?
The pastor
brought the opportunity to the church leaders. They were interested in the
idea, until someone, looking at the numbers, said, “$12 doesn’t seem like a
lot, until you multiply it by 12 months. $150 is a lot!” Someone else wondered
if this would set a precedent – what if word got out that they were willing to
pay people’s rent, and all the homeless refugees came to them?
Soon, this
opportunity to serve in a wonderful way turned into a litany of “not enoughs.”
The pastor writes, “As I listened to my church leaders, I learned so much about
the myth of limited resources. We often think there’s just enough for some of
us. Some have to go without. We’re worried we’ll run out, but guess what? God’s
world has enough for all of us. Someone has put it well, saying, ‘There is
enough for all our needs, but there is not enough for all our greed.’”[1]
Individuals,
churches, even countries can suffer from a fear of not-enough. I see it in our
current immigration debate. One of the most frequent arguments I hear for
limiting immigration, or taking in fewer refugees, is that there are not enough
jobs to go around. We have too many hungry people here already. There are not
enough resources as it is. We need to take care of our own, take care of
American citizens who are already living here legally, before we accept anyone
else into our care. We have only five loaves and two fish, and there is no way
we will be able to feed so many people with so little. Sure, Jesus told us to
feed the hungry and welcome the stranger, but surely he didn’t mean like this. There
is not enough.
It seems
what we have here – in all three examples – is a lack of trust. Philip and his
buddies, the Kenyan church, and modern America – all three examples exhibit a
lack of trust that God will provide just exactly what is needed. Each is rooted
strongly in logic and good sense, which are also valuable. But none are rooted
in trust of God. That, you see, is the danger of fear – it leads us to a lack of trust, or perhaps, it leads us to
trust in ourselves, or to trust in scarcity instead of trust in the promise of
abundance. It causes us to miss the fact that God, the Great I AM, will always
walk out into the storm, and say, “Don’t be afraid. I am here.”
That is why
we prayerfully put our trust in God, the God who not only assures us of his
presence in the midst of the storm, but also promises us abundance. Remember
what Luther writes in the Small Catechism? “God provides me with food and
clothing, home and family, daily work, and all I need from day to day.” God provides all those things! We can
worry and fear all we want, but in the end, God provides all we need from day
to day, from the air that fills our lungs, to our food, to our beating hearts,
to the capacity to love and serve one another.
The past few
weeks we have been using as our benediction this line from Ephesians: “[God] is
able to accomplish abundantly far more than we can ask or imagine.” That’s very
nice, but I like the way the King James Version puts it: “God is able to do exceeding
abundantly beyond everything.” God’s abundance is so abundant, that it’s hard
to capture it in words! It is exceeding abundantly beyond everything! God gives
us far more than we could ever imagine.
And with
that recognition comes freedom – freedom from worrying about whether there will
be enough. Freedom from fretting about running out. Freedom to be more generous
with our time, our money, our resources, our hospitality, and our love and care
for others. Freedom to trust the one who gives us “food and clothing, home and
family, daily work, and all we need from day to day.”
“Therefore,”
the catechism goes on, “we surely ought to thank and praise, serve and obey
him. This is most certainly true.”
Let
us pray… Generous God, your providence
exceeds abundantly beyond everything. Make us grateful for what you give, not
fearful for what we don’t have, so that we would feel freedom to love and serve
without fear. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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