Sermon: Exceeding abundance beyond everything (July 25, 2021)

 Watch the full service HERE.

Pentecost 9B
July 25, 2021
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. Today we’ll hear about two “signs” (what John calls Jesus’ miracles) – the feeding of the 5000, and Jesus walking on water. And over the next few weeks we’ll get into the discourse that always follows a sign, which will explain why the sign matters. In both of the signs and in today’s other readings, we will see a few characteristics of God become apparent: God is in relationship with us, God is an abundant provider, and God is life.

One other thing to listen for that might not be obvious in this translation: another feature of John’s Gospel is that Jesus identifies himself throughout as I AM. Do you remember where else we have heard that name, “I AM”? 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. 

            In the following weeks, we will hear a lot of theological explanation, but today’s readings are more about experience. So as you listen, enter into that experience as best you can, considering how your different senses would encounter it. Let’s listen.

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Vie de Jesus Mafa was an initiative undertaken in the 1970s to help teach the gospel in Northern Cameroon. This image is archived here: http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=48287

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

            One difference we have noticed between our kids, since they were very small, is that Grace is more likely to jump into something pretty fearlessly, where Isaac is much more cautious. Oh he’ll get there eventually, but he is, as I call him, a “toe-dipper,” trying things out a little at a time until he feels comfortable enough to try some more. I admit I’m very grateful 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 mama 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 is calling 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 less obvious 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, for so many people, 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 to my church? And so 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. Now this is not a judgment – it is also good stewardship of resources, don’t get me wrong. But there are plenty of times that I have heard fear of scarcity creep into the conversation about money, whether in my own life or at a council meeting.

            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, my dad’s alma mater, 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 this 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 to rent 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 then 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 need, 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 country’s 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 congregation, and modern America – all three examples exhibit a lack of trust that God will provide just exactly what is needed. Each is also 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 mostly 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.

            I love this line in our reading 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.

Sermon: God hears your needs (July 18, 2021)

 Full service can be viewed HERE. Gospel reading at 38 min, sermon follows.

Pentecost 8B
July 18, 2021
Mark 6:30-34, 53056

INTRODUCTION

Remember two weeks ago, when Jesus sent out the disciples to heal and share the good news about the kingdom of God? And then last week we had this gory interlude about the beheading of John the Baptist? Well today we come back to the story of the apostles, and now they are returning, but we must also not forget that gory beheading story (I know we’d all like to!), because it shows us what bad leadership looks like, and Jesus will show us the opposite. Today’s gospel text is two transitional moments – you’ll notice there are some missing verses, which tell the story of the feeding of the 5000. What we will hear is on either side of that story, and they reveal something about the day-to-day life of Jesus. The reading includes this wonderful line about Jesus seeing the needs of the crowd, “and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd.” Beautiful!

The other texts pick up that shepherd theme. Jeremiah describes the bad shepherds (an image for the rulers of the time) and the way they don’t take care of the people, making a contrast with who we come to understand as Jesus. And naturally, we will hear the 23rd Psalm, “The Lord is my shepherd.” That shepherding image is a common one throughout scripture. And Ephesians reflects on how it can look when we are indeed all sheep of the same flock, with Christ as our shepherd. 

Hold that image of Christ as the care-taking, self-sacrificing shepherd of the sheep as you listen today. Consider how such a role makes you feel, as one of the sheep. Let’s listen.

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

I have a wonderful little resource I love to share with people, a single sheet entitled, “Needs Inventory.” I often share it with people who come to me with their challenges and struggles, and every time I bring it out, I am struck again by how useful it is. It is simple: it’s just a categorized list of both physical and emotional needs people often have. Things like, acceptance, respect, safety, laughter, sleep, order, wholeness. When I am feeling overwhelmed by life, stymied by a conflict, or just unable to articulate what is wrong, I can look at this list, and seeing the words all listed there it is much easier to just point and say, “Yes, that one. And this one. Oh, and I need this, too!” There is immense power in being able to articulate our own needs, yet I think many of us are not very good at it! I know I am much better at telling you what everyone else needs to do for my benefit (like, “I need for you to pick up your socks!”), rather than identify what lack I am feeling within myself (like, “I need order.”). And yet, if we can’t even identify what our own needs are, then how will they ever be filled?

As I read this week’s Gospel lesson, here’s what I notice: that in these somewhat mundane moments of Jesus’ ministry, he consistently responds to people’s needs, known and unknown. Jesus of course is a man who embodies compassion, and I think the way that compassion is made apparent to us here is in Jesus’ willingness and ability to see and understand the deepest needs around him, both physical and emotional, and to tend to those needs. 

That sort of compassion is something often lacking in our lives, right? And I think part of the reason for it is that, again, we don’t very often take the time really to notice the true needs around us, let alone name the deepest needs and heart’s desires that we have ourselves. We see the symptoms of the need, but not the need itself. We’d rather keep it on the surface, treat those symptoms, and feel that we are satisfying our emotional needs with concrete, simple fixes. I’m sad, so I will buy myself a new toy. I’m scared, so I will buy a new outfit that makes me feel confident. I’m hurting, so I will pour myself a drink and escape from my pain. Quick, simple fixes. We do that because facing our true needs requires deep reflection and facing our emotions, and emotions can be so very complicated and make us feel so vulnerable and even inadequate. It is easier just to cover up the need with something else that may help in the short term, even if it doesn’t really address the root cause, the true need we have, the need we might not even know we have because we haven’t taken the time to consider it before slapping a band-aid on it, or just dismissing it as not all that important anyway. 

But Jesus does it differently. Jesus sees the needs of those around him, and he tends directly to them. Jesus is compassionate. Jesus shows the disciples and the crowds what compassion looks like. And if we read this account with hearts open, we, too, can see how Jesus meets the true needs of those in the story.

There are numerous examples. The disciples are exhausted and need rest; Jesus invites them. Many need healing; Jesus heals. Others need guidance, and connection; Jesus teaches them many things. 

But here’s the one I notice that is maybe less obvious than the other needs, and it is right there in the first verse. The disciples have just returned from a journey – remember, just a couple weeks ago, we heard how Jesus had sent them out to heal and cast out demons and share the good news. Now they are back, and I’m sure they are exhausted, but they also have had this incredible experience. Their eyes are opened, and their lives changed, and they are eager to share. In this case, their deep need, that is so easy to gloss over, is to be heard, to have someone actively listen to their story. 

Oh, I encounter this need so often, both as the listener in my pastoral visits and as a personal need. So often when we listen to someone share their feelings or their situation, we want to try and fix it, right? To make it better. But sometimes all the person needs is just to know that someone cares enough to listen to their story, without distraction, and without doing anything to fix it. They need to be heard.

Michael and I enjoy the TV show, Parks and Rec. In one episode, Ann is very pregnant and very miserable, and Chris, a health nut and the baby’s daddy, bends over backwards to fix all of Ann’s problem – with shea butter, or a dietary supplement, or a foot massage. You’d think the weary mommy-to-be would appreciate his efforts, but instead, Ann is repeatedly frustrated by the fact that Chris always has a solution to every problem. She doesn’t want to be fixed. She wants just to grumble about the pains of late-term pregnancy, and know that Chris cares about her woes, cares enough to listen first, without jumping to make the problem go away. For his part, Chris is discouraged because he can’t understand why Ann is so grumpy when he’s doing so much to help. But relief from the physical pain isn’t what she wants help with. What she needs is relief from her emotional pain. She needs companionship. Chris’s friends give him the advice not to fix anything, which seems counter-intuitive to him, but still he tries. That night, as Ann laments about her sore body and long day, Chris starts to fix it, then takes a deep breath and simply says, “That sucks.” Ann looks at him wide-eyed, says, “Yes, it does!” and goes on to tell him more. This time he responds, “That really sucks.” Ann smiles contentedly, and leans into him, finally heard, finally at peace. 

You see, compassionate listening has the power to heal our hearts – more than any dietary supplement or foot massage, or new gadget or outfit. And this is the compassion Jesus provides to his disciples: he hears their stories, he strives to understand how they are feeling. He joins them right where they are, feels with them, and invites them to come with him to a restful place.

There are so many needs apparent in this text, and the value of this is that texts like this can give us permission to start to reflect honestly on what our own needs are. When was the last time you really reflected deeply on your needs? It is such hard work, and soft work without an immediate result – plus, who has time for that, when so many quick fixes are so much more efficient at treating the symptoms of our needs? But it is so important to know our own hearts well enough to know what needs we have, and how they might be fulfilled. As you think about your needs, think about it in positive, not negative ways. So instead of, “I need to not worry,” or, “I need you to act differently,” think instead, “I need to feel safe. I need to find peace with this. I need to find forgiveness. I need relief from this burden.” You hear the difference? The latter are needs apart from other people’s actions, and these positive statements give better direction for you, for your own heart – a way to move forward.

And then once you’ve identified your need – I’m sure you can guess where I’m going with this – bring that need to Jesus. Offer it in prayer, naming it, and asking Jesus to sit in that need with you. You might even try responding to his next invitation, and go to a deserted place with Jesus to sit together in that need and know first that it is heard by God and that God cares about it. Let me say that again: God cares about your need, even if it seems no one else does. 

Simply knowing that might be enough for now. Sure, there are other steps to take to have that need filled, but most importantly, knowing that God sees you, hears you, has compassion for you, and is present with you in your need is enough to start to bring healing, to move you toward the abundant life God wants for you. May we all live and experience that life-giving compassion.

Let us pray… Compassionate God, you know our needs even when we don’t. Help us to be vulnerable enough to try to understand our own needs, and then willing to let you tend to them, so that we will be cared for and nurtured enough to be able to serve your world with full and generous hearts. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon: Jesus doesn't stay in his lane (July 4, 2021)

 Full service can be viewed HERE. 

Pentecost 6B

July 4, 2021

Mark 6:1-13

INTRODUCTION

I have a friend who has four kids. One of their family mottos is, “We can do hard things.” I think this is a good motto to get us through today’s readings. In Ezekiel, we’ll hear that prophet’s call story. Basically, God will say, “I’m sending you to a particular difficult group of people, and they’ve been difficult for generations.” They will be unwilling to hear the message, God says, but of course, God also equips Ezekiel to do the job – he can do hard things. In Corinthians, Paul talks about a “thorn in his side” that keeps him humble, and he frames this annoyance as a spiritual gift, a reminder that God’s grace is sufficient for him, that “power is made perfect in weakness.” Paul can do hard things. And finally in Mark, we will see that sometimes the hardest place of all to do God’s will is right in our hometown, where this story takes place. These hometown folks reject Jesus, and consequently Jesus has less power there. But Jesus, too, can do hard things, and so can his followers – he sends them out in twos to share the good news, commanding them to depend entirely upon the generosity of strangers, and when they are rejected (and they will be), Jesus’ advice is basically: get over it. Move on. You can do hard things.

As you listen, think of some of the hard things you have had to do, and the ways God has been with you in and through them. And hear what encouragement God is giving you today. Let’s listen.

[READ]

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

As many of you know, my husband serves in the NY State Guard. His roles, which are in both recruiting and public affairs, both have a lot of overlap with the Guard’s technology needs – and technology happens to be his civilian job, but it is also someone’s military job. When he encounters that overlap, he worries about overstepping into this other role, because in the military, he says, it is really important that you follow the proper protocols, don’t do someone else’s job, respect the structure – in short, there is an expectation that you stay in your lane.

Reading today’s Gospel reading, we can see that expecting people to stay in their lane is not unique to the military, nor to our time and place. Here’s the scenario: After what has already been an impressive ministry of healing and miracles, Jesus visits his hometown. At first, the townspeople are impressed. “Astounded,” Mark says, by his wisdom and his deeds of power. But then, something changes, and they start to get suspicious. “Wait a minute… isn’t this guy a carpenter? He’s no better than any of us!” They mention his mother, Mary, but no father – thus implying that Jesus is of questionable parentage, another way to discredit him. They mention his brothers, and his sisters – implying that he should be making a living and supporting especially these sisters, not showing off in the synagogue! “You’ve gotten too big for your britches,” they seem to be saying. “You’re a commoner like the rest of us. You’re a carpenter, with responsibilities, and not all that special. You’re just showing off. Stay in your lane, Jesus.” 

Consequently, Mark tells us, Jesus is not able to do the deeds of power in that place that he normally would. The people are set in their expectations about who Jesus is and in what lane he belongs, and so they cannot receive his power. Remember last week, the hemorrhaging women believed so fully that even just touching Jesus’ clothes would heal her, and Jesus in turn tells her that her faith is what made her well? Yeah, it seems that faith is pretty important for being able to receive Jesus’ power! And these hometown folks just don’t have it. They expect Jesus to stay in his lane, and be who they assume and expect him to be. 

I’d like to think I’m more like the hemorrhaging woman, but the truth is, I wonder if I am more like these hometown folks. Truthfully, I wonder if many of us are: we have some idea in our head about what exactly Jesus can or should be or do for us; we believe, in theory, that he can do anything, but in our heart of hearts we have our doubts; we want Jesus there for us when we want him, but we’d rather he keep his nose out of our other business; or, we pick and choose the parts of Jesus we like and can get on board with, but prefer to ignore the parts that challenge our status quo or beliefs, that make us uncomfortable, that would urge us to look into our hearts and realize, “Oh… something here needs to change.” To be honest, I’d often much rather Jesus just “stay in his lane,” you know? And let me just live the life I’m comfortable with! I’m a pretty good person, after all! I pay my taxes and love my country, I say my prayers and go to church, I do good work, I greet my neighbors with a smile, I am kind to others, I’m a good mom. I’m living a pretty good life, so just let me be, Jesus. Stay in your lane, and I’ll stay in mine, and I’ll let you know when I need you.

That is all very safe. 

But at what cost? 

What happens when we live this way, when we put God in a certain box, a certain lane, and expect God to stay there? What experiences of the sacred do we miss? What deeply felt joy do we miss? What patterns or behaviors are keeping us bound, keeping us from experiencing life in the fullest, when we sequester God only to certain places and certain ways of being? Are we, in our effort to stay where it’s comfortable and keep our status quo, missing the ways that God is challenging us and calling us into a different way, a way of love, life, hope, and joy? 

In this story of Jesus visiting his hometown, Jesus offends people. He offends them! This is not the Jesus we normally think of, all meek and mild and there for us when we seek comfort. Here, he makes people uncomfortable. Turns out, he does that quite a lot! Something I know is true about myself and I think is likely pretty universal, is when I am offended by something, it is often because it triggers something in me that I know is true but that I am not yet ready to face. That is, it often has more to do with me than with the offender. When this happens, it is much, much easier to go on the attack, seeking perhaps to defend myself but also to reveal the offender’s weakness. “Who do you think you are? Aren’t you only … a carpenter, born out of wedlock, some commoner who should be doing his duty and not acting like a hot shot in the synagogue?” In truth, what needs to happen when we feel this way is not to attack, but to look inward, to look at what has been poked and stimulated in us that has pushed us to attack in this way. What we may find is that God is revealing something sacred. It might be some new thing God is doing in and for us. It might be something that is the start of months or years of work, but that work is holy and good and will lead to life, for ourselves and those we love. 

In times like that, it is a really good thing that Jesus is not one to stay in his lane! Times like that, we need him to come into our hearts despite our resistance. Good thing that’s Jesus’ M.O. After all, he didn’t stay in his lane when he healed on the sabbath. He didn’t stay in his lane when he ate with prostitutes and tax collectors. He definitely didn’t stay in his lane when he came back to life after being crucified! 

Nope, once again, our Jesus is a boundary-breaker, challenging our assumptions, telling us truths we would rather not hear, pushing us to be more welcoming even of people who make us uncomfortable (and, to be willing to receive radical welcome from them), and exceeding all the limits we would put on him. This is really good news for us! Because even when we are more like the skeptical hometown folks than we are like the faithful hemorrhaging woman, even when our faith falters or is not where it could be, even when we are scared in the storms of life – Jesus still breaks down the barriers we’ve set up and comes to us, never giving up on us, and bringing new life and freedom to our captivities. Thanks be to the God who never stays in his lane!

Let us pray… Barrier-breaking God, we sometimes prefer you would mind your own business and stay in your lane. Thank you that you don’t. Thank you that you come to us, at times offending us, and always nudging and urging and drawing us into a more abundant life. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.