Sermon: Prone to wander (Aug. 26, 2018)

Pentecost 14B

August 26, 2018

Joshua 24:1-2a, 14-18

Ephesians 6:10-20

John 6:56-69

INTRODUCTION

            Today’s texts all share a very prominent theme: that of faithfulness to the one true God, even in the midst of struggles and temptations. They are texts as convicting as they are encouraging. They fill me with hope in the power of faith, and with hopelessness at my inevitable failure always to keep that faith. In other words: they do exactly what the gospel, the living Word of God, sets out to do: comfort the afflicted, and afflict the comfortable.

            In the reading from Joshua, Joshua asks the Israelites which god they will serve: Yahwah, or the various false idols they have in their possession. The people give an unequivocal “yes!” to Yahwah. In Ephesians, Paul talks about the devil and the forces of evil that are among us, working their woe, and how we must prepare to defend against them by putting on the armor of God, wrapping truth around our waist like a belt, and being prepared always to rely upon the gospel and to pray. And in John, you remember we have just come to the end of Jesus’ long Bread of Life discourse. Anyone remember the difficult teaching Jesus offered them last week? The one about how they must eat his flesh and drink his blood in order to abide in him and have eternal life. It’s a difficult teaching, one which, as we’ll see, causes many to turn their backs on this compelling teacher. Yet when faced with the decision as to whether to leave Jesus’ side, Peter utters the words now memorialized in our Gospel acclamation: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.”

            Faithfulness and commitment. It is a gift and a challenge as old as time. Let us feast upon these stories of faith, as we reflect also on our own journeys that have taken us to the edge of doubt, and back again. Let’s listen.

[READ]

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

            This coming week, Tuesday, will be my ordination anniversary, an event which happens to correspond with my baptismal anniversary. Two-for-one deal on the Spirit descending on me that day! I loved the symmetry of that at the time, and I still do, because I always considered my real call to ministry, and to a life of faith, to have come first of all in the waters of baptism. My dad preached at my ordination, and played upon that fact, that my baptism and my ordination are intertwined. The epistle for the day came from Romans, in which Paul bids us not to lose heart. Here is what my dad said: “’We do not lose heart.’” What’s that? Losing heart? Yes, I’m here to tell you that’s part of the challenge. Paul goes on to recite some of the realities of ministry—and really, the realities of the Christian life: affliction, perplexity, persecution. That’s what Johanna has signed up for, you know. She has signed up for a life that sometimes makes one lose heart.” (As he said this, I could feel a pit forming in my stomach, wondering what I was getting myself into! But then he went on.) “Yes, that’s what she signed up for—28 years ago when she was baptized! Those are the challenges that Paul outlines, those are the challenges of all who seek to be faithful.”

            I haven’t forgotten that – when the life of faith or the life of ministry gets difficult, it has offered me some consolation to remember that a life of faith has not ever been easy, since the very beginning of faithfulness! Take Joshua, for example. Joshua asks the Israelites if they will give up their false gods, and everyone sounds like they are all in and everything will be fine, they even make a covenant that day that states their commitment to YHWH… but of course we know how that turned out. The rest of the Old Testament recounts a string of corrupt leaders, idolatry, disregard for God’s covenant, trampling on the poor and needy, bloodshed… with only a few bright spots along the way. Thing is, as enthusiastic as their initial promise, the Israelites, like we, were human beings, in bondage to sin and unable to free themselves. Just like us, when something easier came along, they went for it. When pride and greed got the better of them, they embraced it. When following God’s commandments required of them to sacrifice something important to them – safety, comfort, reputation, power – they set aside that promise that they’d made, and sought instead the false idols that so many of us continue to seek.

            Oh yes, the temptation to compromise our faith in and dedication to the Holy One of God is alive and well – as much now as it was then. We still are too willing to put aside our dedication to the life-giving command of God, to care for the least among us, to put our trust only in God, to love our enemies, to welcome the stranger – we put that aside in favor of the false idols of greed, pride, comfort, power, and safety. When the going gets tough, it is all too easy to lose heart, and seek the easy way out.

Why do we do it?

            Well, in our reading from Ephesians, Paul puts the blame squarely on the forces of evil that are rampant in this world, the wiles of the devil himself trying to “work us woe.” And oh, are those forces powerful! And equally so, they are cunning. They sneak about, masquerading as good things – like logic and reason, and keeping our loved ones safe, and trying not to rock the boat, but rather, keep everyone happy. Sometimes the powers of evil are very clearly evil – rampant abuse comes to mind, or unjust war, or corrupt and oppressive systems of government, or murder of innocents. Sometimes evil comes in various shades of gray, where there is a possible bright side to the darkness. Or sometimes, evil looks like a downright good, when it fact, it is wielding all kinds of hidden harm. The devil, my friends, is sneaky.

            Jesus points out the same thing, in the verses that directly follow what we just heard. The reading we heard ends on a nice note, with Peter declaring Jesus the Holy One of God. But listen to Jesus’ response: ‘“Did I not choose you, the twelve?” Jesus says. “Yet one of you is a devil.” He was speaking of Judas… for he, though one of the twelve, was going to betray him.’ Youch, what a reality check. Right there among them, one of the 12 chosen disciples – a devil! And if it can happen to Judas, can’t it happen to us? Aren’t we all capable of falling into sin, of betraying our faith in Christ? Aren’t we all capable of breaking God’s covenant with us? Haven’t we all put aside what we know the Word of God calls us to, in favor of convenience, or money, or reputation, or self-serving, or fear? Haven’t we all trusted ourselves, and our own wisdom or that of the world, more than we trust our God? Surely we all have stories in which we have done exactly this. I know I do.

            So what are we to do about it? How do we protect ourselves against the wiles of the devil, against so many temptations that draw us from God?

Paul suggests this powerful metaphor: that we put on the armor of God. That we surround ourselves with God’s living word, with prayer and supplication, with a community of faithful people, so that all these things might guide us into the way of peace, the way of God.

            Absolutely – I’m all for it! Yet… sometimes that is easier said than done, isn’t it? As we’ve seen, there are devils right among us – sometimes you are even the devil! Sometimes I am! We are all prone to fall into sin. Reading the Bible is great, but it can be hard to understand. We pray, hard, and sometimes it seems we are left waiting and waiting for an answer, and anyway, how do we discern which voice is God’s and which is the devil’s?

The armor of God gets heavier and more awkward to wear, as we keep searching to understand and live into Jesus’ tough teachings. And like those people listening to Jesus, we might be inclined simply to drop the armor, drop the whole thing, and turn away. Sometimes, leaving just seems like the easier and more reasonable option. I totally get those folks who turned away, who heard Jesus’ teaching and said, “This is too much. I can’t get on board with that.” I have been there. I have had moments where it seemed easier to give up and turn away, rather than keep trying to live into those baptismal promises I signed up for 35 years ago on Tuesday. Jesus’ teaching is difficult, and Lord knows there are devils among us, cunningly trying to convince us that it is not worth it to live into God’s covenant with us.

            In those moments, I like to turn to the wisdom of so many faithful people before me, who have experienced the very same thing. One of my favorite hymns is “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing.” The last verse especially, speaks to me and gives me hope in those moments where I might be inclined to turn away: “Oh to grace how great a debtor daily I’m constrained to be. Let that grace now, like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to thee. Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love. Here’s my heart, oh, take and seal it. Seal it for thy courts above.”

Yes, we are prone to wander… yet in the in the end, you see, Peter’s words are true: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” Our hearts may be prone to wander, we may turn away. Yet we can be sure, like Peter, that there is nowhere else to go that will give us the same life, hope, love, grace and peace that is given by our God. And so we pray that God would bind our hearts, like a chain, to the promises not of the world, but to the promises of grace. And God does.

The teaching is difficult. Sin and devils crouch at our doorstep, ready to pounce. It can be hard to accept the demands of a life of faith, and harder still to live it: to care more about the poor, the immigrant, the lost and dejected, the broken, the weak, the morbidly obese and the sickly skinny, the drug-addicted, the imprisoned – to care more about all of them than we do about ourselves. To live a life that shares the love of Christ with everyone we meet, even people we don’t like, or who disagree with us, or who voted for the wrong person, or who did something to hurt us, or who are just really annoying. Living that life of faith is not easy.

But here’s the good news: this teaching is difficult, and the devil lurks and cheers for us to fail… but we’re not in this alone. Jesus promises us that, too. And we receive that promise every time we wake up in the morning, every time we splash water on our faces and remember we are baptized, we are loved, we are forgiven. We receive it every time we hear the words of eternal life. We receive God’s promise every time we come to this table and feast on the body and blood of Christ, where we receive the strength and nourishment we need to faithfully live this life Christ calls us to. This life of faith is so much fuller of grace and life and love than it could ever be full of devils. So let us indeed put on that armor of God, complete with the belt of truth and the breastplate of righteousness and the shoes that make us ready to proclaim God’s love and peace whenever the need arises. This teaching is difficult, yes, but friends, there is nowhere else to go. So let’s do this thing.

But first, as Paul wisely advises, let us pray…Eternal God, you are the one and only thing that gives us life. Bind our wandering hearts to you, so that when we inevitably are tempted by the devils among us to stray toward false gods and false promises, we will be able to find our way back to your gracious and loving embrace. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon: Moving past the food that perishes (Aug 5, 2018)

Pentecost 11B

August 5, 2018

John 6:24-35

INTRODUCTION

            Last week we began what is known as the Bread of Life discourse. Each of Jesus’ discourses in John’s Gospel are explanations of some sign, or miracle, he’s performed, so it’s important for our understanding that we recall what that sign was. Anyone remember what we heard last week? [Jesus feeding the 5000.] I’m sure you remember this story – Jesus and the disciples are all out, far away from town, and everyone gets hungry. One boy shares his lunch (five small loaves and two small fish), and miraculously everyone ends up with plenty to eat, with 12 baskets left over. It is one of Jesus’ seven signs that we see in John’s Gospel.

            The next part of the story happens the next day. Folks have gone to pretty great lengths to track down Jesus, and they find him, and today we will be hearing the conversation that ensues. As always in John, conversation with Jesus is characterized by a lack of understanding, because Jesus is always talking from up here, in the heavenly realm, and people respond from down here, in the earthly realm. They totally miss what Jesus is really saying, because they are so stuck down in the world of the flesh. Not that we can really blame them. This is tough stuff Jesus is saying. Jesus is totally blowing their minds here.

One more quick comment about our first reading: for Jesus’ disciples, it is this story of being fed in the wilderness has been the defining story about how God provides. It is so foundational, that it is what the crowd refers to in trying to understand who Jesus is. So listen carefully, and then hold onto that story as you listen to what Jesus says about being the bread of life.

[READ]

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

            There are some chores I really hate, and some I don’t mind doing. Some aren’t so bad because at the end of them, there is a sense of satisfaction, and accomplishment. Like folding laundry. I sort as I go, so by the end, I have all these nice little stacks all organized, which then go neatly into a basket, to be carried upstairs and put away. Satisfying!

            What I do mind, however, is when the clothes I’m folding belong to my kids, who get very excited to see their clothes all clean, and come barreling into what I’m doing, grabbing their favorite items out of what is inevitably the center of the pile, and totally undoing 15 minutes of effort. All that time, wasted.

            “Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life.” I’m not sure Jesus had in mind folding laundry with toddlers around when he said this, but sometimes life can feel a bit like that! Isn’t it so frustrating when you work diligently for something, only to find that it means nothing moments later? Or maybe weeks or even years later? I think about all the people in the Rochester area, many of you members of this congregation, who worked for Kodak, developing film technology… a technology now made mostly obsolete by digital photography. It can feel a bit, can’t it, like all those years were work for food that perishes, that does not endure. It is incredibly frustrating and disheartening to pour so much time and energy into something that does not, in the end, endure.

            And yet, this is exactly what we do, isn’t it, not just in our careers, or daily chores, but also in seeking joy and depth and fulfillment in life. With so many demands on our time, not to mention, of course, the pressure to build up savings and retirement accounts, and making sure everything in life is in order… who has time to meaningfully seek joy and fulfillment? And so what we do instead is try to find that life elsewhere, somewhere quick and easy: shopping, or working more or harder, or a bag of chips, or binge watching a TV show, or scrolling through Facebook or Twitter to look at silly cat memes, or to comment on the latest outrageous news story, or to superficially connect with people who may or may not hold meaningful places in our lives. All these things give us a quick buzz, a brief moment of satisfaction, but ultimately, it doesn’t last. It doesn’t bring enduring life or joy. We work for the food that perishes, not the food that endures for eternal life. And then we wonder how it can be that we are working so hard, and keeping so busy, and yet not feeling full of life.

            So where do we find this food, this nourishment and sustenance that does fill us up, that does endure for eternal life? Well, Jesus tells us: the Son of Man will give it to you. The crowd is as eager about this as we are: “What does that mean? What do we have to do to get it?” Simple, Jesus says. Just believe.

            Simple, but not easy – for them or for us! I have often thought, “If I could just have been there, and met Jesus, and seen the signs he performed and the ways he touched and taught people, faith would be so much easier!” But here the crowd proves that theory wrong. They have just witnessed the feeding of the 5000, and Jesus walking on water, and yet still, they ask for a sign. They even bring up God’s past faithfulness, just like I do: “Well if only I could see the sort of thing God used to do, like for the Israelites, like when they were in the wilderness and Moses gave them bread from heaven. Show me something like that, and I’ll believe!”

            Can’t we always find some excuse for our lack of faith, some way that faith would be easier “if only”? “If I could just see a sign… if I only had more time to devote to prayer, or if results and gratification from prayer came faster… if I knew more about the Bible… if God would just prove to me that all this effort will be worth it in the end… then I would have more faith!” But all that sounds hard, even impossible, and so instead, we continue to work for the food that perishes, throwing ourselves into activities and mindsets and ways of life that give us a quick fix, but do not offer us the sustaining goodness that we will only find in Christ Jesus.

            During one Lent, I tried as a discipline doing what’s called the examen. At the end of each day, I answered in writing two questions: when did I feel full of life today, and when did I feel life draining out of me? Then at the end of the week, I looked at what I had written, and looked for patterns. Did I consistently feel life draining out of me during an activity that I, nevertheless, continue to devote time to? Did I feel full of life doing something that I don’t make enough time for? I admit to you, that it was a very revealing exercise – a bit too revealing. I didn’t like what I saw. I quickly recognized some patterns that I knew should change, but I also knew it would be so hard to change them. It would be easier to ignore this revelation, and keep doing what may not be as life-giving as something else, but was much easier and was, in the end, not great, but fine. I continued to work for the food that perishes, rather than the food that endures for eternal life.

            Yes, friends, I regularly fail at this. I’m guessing you do, too. We are a people who consistently work for the food that perishes. I wonder if a part of the reason for that is that we fancy ourselves to be self-sufficient. We think, if we work hard enough, keep busy enough, learn enough, then we will succeed. We will live! We will have full, satisfying lives. We are quite accustomed to relying on ourselves, and we are quicker to trust ourselves than anyone or anything else.

            And yet, remember what Jesus says. “Do not work for the food that perishes,” he says, “but for the food that endures for eternal life… which the Son of Man will give you.” This food, this thing that fills us up and sustains us and does not disappoint us – it will be given to us, by Christ himself. It will be given to us when we read the Word, when we do as one old prayer says, “hear the words of scripture, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them.” It will be given to us when we notice God’s movement in our daily lives, giving credit to our Maker for all that we have and not to ourselves. It will be given to us when we talk to God regularly, living into that abiding relationship God so wants with us. It will be given to us when we come forward to this table, stretch out our beggar’s hands, and don’t take, but rather are given grace itself, the bread of life, and told, “This is my body, given for you… even though you regularly fail. It’s given for you anyway, my beloved child. Take and eat it. This is my body, given even for you.”

            Such a gift of grace is hard to accept, for a bunch of folks accustomed to working hard (even, working for food that perishes). We don’t have to earn it. We don’t deserve it. We don’t have to check all the boxes and do all the things that we or society tells us we need to do in order to be valued members of society. This grace is merely given, to us bunch of failures, to us bunch of beloved children of God. This grace is given to us, so that we might have an abiding relationship with our loving God, not because of who we are or what we accomplish, but because of who God is and what God has accomplished.

            That’s a message I know I need to hear, to be reminded of again and again. I need to be told, “Johanna, you’re gonna drop the ball sometimes. You’re gonna totally blow it other times. You’re gonna work your behind off and feel like after all that, you got absolutely nowhere… and in the midst of all that, God loves you so much, that God actually still wants to be in a serious and committed relationship with you, and will go great lengths to do so.” That is life. That is enduring. That is a promise to sink your teeth into.  And so we shall.

            Let us pray… Bread of life, we work so hard in hopes of being valued by ourselves and others. But this is food that perishes. Remind us every day that we are already valued because we are loved by a life-giving God. Fill us up with your life and your love. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon: Will there be enough? (July 29, 2018)

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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[1] http://day1.org/671-a_picnic_on_the_mountainside