“Eat, Pray, Love” a sermon based on John 15:1-8 Fifth Sunday of Easter May 3, 2015

John 15 “I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit. You have already been cleansed by the word that I have spoken to you. Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing. Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples. 

**************************************************************** 

A neighbour of mine just a couple of houses over,  has a grapevine growing on his fence.  As I went past on Friday, I noticed he has cut it right back to almost nothing but the main central stem. There are piles of brush on the ground, and from the look of the cutting, one would think that vine would never produce. But by September it will be covered with bunches of wonderful tiny purple grapes, perfect for making jam and juice. 

Years ago Norio planted a lovely Bosc pear in the back yard. The first year, it had many pears on it. The second year it grew long branches, and had fewer pears. I suggested Norio trim the branches back; he thought that was unfair to the tree, it should just be let grow in whatever way. The third year we had about three pears. Then I went to Newfoundland. When I got home three years later, I found the bamboo covering a third of the yard, and the pear tree obscured by all the heartily-growing bamboo. Last summer, I hired someone to come and trim all the trees, practically back to the nub.  We will see what happens with the pear this year.

I was reading a sermon by Rev. Frank Schaefer, one of my favourite preachers –  and Frank was talking about this ‘producing fruit’ thing – that it really irritates him, and rubs him the wrong way the more it comes up. I tend to agree. Everything today is measured by what is called “success” – and clergy see it most in the church. I hate it when I go to meetings, and someone asks me what congregation I serve, how many members, how many kids in the Sunday School, how many study groups; it’s almost as if we are in a competition with each other, and success is marked by ‘how many’?? Being fruitful has turned into meaning how many people can you flog into coming to church?  Can you perform, how soon can you deliver, how many can you get??? You must grow, you must have more than one service, you must expand and offer more and better services and ministries than others. 

Seems to me our job, as branches, isn’t to focus on the fruit. Our job is to stay connected to the Vine. God will take care of the fruit.  Jesus encourages us to let God the vine dresser distribute the fruit according in whatever way God does – that’s not our problem. Sometimes, that may mean that the fruit is a little green.  Mature fruit has its own purpose, however.  By definition, fruit holds seeds. Unless the fruit ripens, it will be impossible for those seeds to develop into something worth planting.  As followers of Jesus, our purpose is to allow our own seeds of faith, surrounded by the ripe fruit of God’s love, to develop into something worth planting. How do we develop our seeds of faith? 

Frank Schaefer says  “…… this morning I come to church and hear Jesus talk about bearing much fruit. Can you blame me for being a little irritated by that?” but he then goes on to ask what Jesus actually means by ‘bearing fruit’. What is the difference between “work” and “fruit”. Does Jesus mean performance? producing, producing, producing? When Jesus talks about fruit, he’s not talking about the gardener who looks after the plant, he’s talking about the plant itself. 

I can dig and manure and water my little pear tree, and prune it back to allow newer growth. I cannot make it produce pears, and I cannot produce the pears The tree bears its own fruit. Fruit grows naturally, the branch does not do anything to produce the fruit; it is genetically predetermined to bear fruit when . . . it remains connected to the tree or vine and gets the necessary nutrients. When Jesus said: "I am the vine, you are the branches. If you abide in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit" he did not say to us: you must be successful, he said: be fruitful! 

According to Henry Nouwen (in a sermon on this scripture passage) Jesus makes a distinction between doing and being. Nouwen says: "Success comes from doing, and fruitfulness comes from being." Being in and with God, with others and with ourselves. 

So Jesus does not say: do more! Jesus is saying work on your plant – connect to the vine, let the vine support you. He is saying: be more! Get to know God deeper, explore God, let God love you. Experience God’s inner peace once again, and his joy. Take a break from the world, be with God, be with yourself, get in touch with your self and your calling, become centered in your inner spiritual life. 

Don’t worry about fruit or success. If you are connected to the vine, fruit is a given. It will grow naturally out of your life of peace and love, of remaining centred, just as the grape grows naturally out of the vine. 

I think the book “Eat, Pray, Love” is about the fruits of the spirit – of finding ways to be close to the vine, to “abide in” the vine.  I think the quote talks about the search to be as close to the source as possible, so that we too can bear fruit – and we do whatever it takes to tap into the source in order to grow. What are the three things we do at the communion table today? We eat – the fruit of the vine, and the fruit of the earth which also feeds the vine. We pray at the table, to be nourished and to grow in our spirits. This is the process of digging, fertilising, pruning – examining, focus on our inner self and how we draw strength from the vine. The fruit of this digging and fertilising – eating and praying -  is love. Being fruitful is not at all about bodies in church, or kids in Sunday School,  - it’s about how we tap into the source of being, and grow the fruit of the spirit – love. May it be so.

Sources:                                                                

1.      “And Now – An Uplifting Word from Our Sponsor”, a sermon by Rev. Frank Schaefer, John 15:1-8

2.       “Much Fruit” Murray’s Commentary on the gospel of John, Chapter Twelve

3.      Henry Nouwen in a ( tape recorded) sermon on John 15:1-8

4.      “Eat, Pray, Love” Elizabeth Gilbert.

“Shepherds and Sheep” Easter 4B Good Shepherd Sunday April 26, 2015 John 10:1-18 Presteign-Woodbine United Church

“Let me set this before you as plainly as I can. If a person climbs over or through the fence of a sheep pen instead of going through the gate, you know he’s up to no good—a sheep rustler! The shepherd walks right up to the gate. The gatekeeper opens the gate to him and the sheep recognize his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he gets them all out, he leads them and they follow because they are familiar with his voice. They won’t follow a stranger’s voice but will scatter because they aren’t used to the sound of it.”

Jesus told this simple story, but they had no idea what he was talking about. So he tried again. “I’ll be explicit, then. I am the Gate for the sheep. All those others are up to no good—sheep stealers, every one of them. But the sheep didn’t listen to them. I am the Gate. Anyone who goes through me will be cared for—will freely go in and out, and find pasture. A thief is only there to steal and kill and destroy. I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better life than they ever dreamed.

****************************************************************************

In our Australia days, Norio and I had a small hobby farm, on which we kept an assortment of chickens, ducks, dogs, cats, sheep and goats. We had no idea what we were doing in many ways, but we did know that when blowflies got into the sheep’s wool, she had to be sheared or she could become seriously ill. Our neighbour volunteered to shear her for us, if we caught her. The appointment was made, he came over with the shears, and the sheep disappeared into the depths of the back shed. “OK”, I said to Norio “I’ll go in and chase her out, you grab her on the way by.” Right. Sheep came tearing out of the shed, Norio grabbed two good handfuls of wool – and kept on going for a couple of hundred yards before she came to a halt. There were two deep trenches in the ground from Norio’s shoes, and he was completely covered in grass, mud, poop from a frightened sheep, and heavy lanolin and grease from the wool. Our neighbour was almost on the ground laughing, and – well – so were we.

This is Good Shepherd Sunday, and I have to tell you that like many other clergy, I cringed at first, looking at the text. Into my mind came the picture of Jesus holding the lamb. I suppose there’s nothing inherently wrong with it, but just that it’s everywhere – one colleague says it’s even on sale in the Holy Land. Over the centuries, this image of Jesus as the good shepherd and his followers as sheep has been staggering - the number of sermons, articles, hymns, retreats, paintings, stained glass. So, it’s with great trepidation that any preacher wanders into this particular pasture and tackles these particular critters.

This Jesus, and the lamb I might add, look surprisingly clean – and I think that’s the first thing which doesn’t quite ring true. I’ve raised sheep, and I can tell you that working with sheep means you aren’t going to be clean. Just the act of catching and holding a sheep will leave you covered in grass, dirt, smelly grease….whatever.

Now look at the picture. Does this man look like he smells like lanolin and dirt, dung, and body odor. Does he look like he’s been out in the fields with the sheep, sleeping on the ground? If he came to ask for work, would I hire him as a shepherd? As someone who has worked with sheep – I’d probably be a bit concerned that he couldn’t do the hard work. Sheep are not stupid, and they are quite strong when they

For me this is another example of taking something from the Bible, and sanitising it to the point where it means little, other than we feel good. This is the ‘gentle Jesus, meek and mild’ kind of Jesus we like having around. We might have Psalm 23 in mind, never wanting for anything, of having a banquet table all set up for us so we can gloat at those who we call enemy, of perfect still waters and thick green pastures with no weeds of any kind. It’s an image of someone who can control the uncontrollable in our world, tame the things we cannot manage, those things we fear, solve all the unsolvables and unanswerables with nice, comfy, pat answers to everything so we don’t have to think or grapple.

The life of a shepherd, especially in the time of Jesus, was anything but soft or picturesque. It was dangerous, risky, dirty and often lonely work. Shepherds didn’t hang out in polite society; they ate, slept and worked outside.The ‘sheep hold’ was an area built up of rock walls – with an opening for sheep to get in and out. In a good sheep hold there might be an actual gate and a gatekeeper. In most sheep holds there was just a space for going in and out, and the shepherd would sleep across the opening at night to protect the sheep from wolves and other things. When morning came the shepherd called the sheep out from the sheep hold again, into the fields where there might be snakes, animals, dangers.

There’s another side to this text. It’s translated as “good” shepherd and we think it opposite of ‘evil’, but that’s not it at all. In modern terms it might be more appropriate to say “I am the good migrant worker.” For Jesus to call himself the ‘good’ shepherd, sets up a comparison with the thieves. It would have been an affront to the religious elite; it’s an allusion to false leaders who run away at the first hint of danger, who are more interested in protecting themselves.

I want to go back to the text from John, because I think we’ve mis-read it, or perhaps overlooked some of what it says – and that has skewed our understanding.

Look at the text. It doesn’t say the shepherd comes and calls the sheep IN, it says the shepherd comes and calls the sheep OUT. We have traditionally seen and read this as the shepherd calling the sheep to safety, but it isn’t – it’s quite the opposite. The shepherd arrives at the sheepfold and calls the sheep away from the safety of the pen. And they follow the shepherd. Not to safety, but to the open wilderness, because that’s where the shepherd always is. The shepherd comes to take the sheep from a protected place, into an unprotected pasture where there is abundant life.

Rev. Daniel Henson, in the sermon “The Shepherd Who Calls Us Out” says “Abundant life is not necessarily a safe life, mind you. Out beyond the sheep pen, there is most certainly green pasture and still waters, but there are also roaming predators, wolves and bandits. There is also a valley shadowed by death.”

He goes on to say that not only have we sanitised the image of the shepherd, but we’ve sanitised the text. Our version says that Jesus “brings out all his own” from the sheep pen, but the Greek verb is the one used in the Gospels for the violent casting out of demons. So the shepherd casts out the sheep from safety and they are now literally “out-cast”.

In the Gospels Jesus breaks bread with the outcasts, and sinners. They are held up as as examples of profound faith, of how Jesus chose the despised to befriend. I kept thinking about how Jesus says that whenever we see the hungry, the poor, the lonely, the disenfranchised — the outcast — we are seeing Jesus himself.

And then I began to wonder if when we hear the voices of those outcasts in our society, those disenfranchised and marginalized, if we hear that voice for what it is. The voice of Jesus - the voice of the shepherd- calling us out from the safety of the sheepfold to be a flock of the cast-out.

Here’s another side of this. Being a shepherd and taking care of sheep, and being a sheep and having a shepherd, are sooner or later going to have something to do with wool and with mutton. Now sheep have a reputation of being a bit dull and stupid – so if we are compared to a flock of sheep, does that mean we should be passive, stupid, unimaginative, docile and dull. If we are the sheep of our Lord’s pasture, does that mean we just hang around, not doing much, looking cute?

No, it doesn’t. Sheep are useful, they are important, indeed they are necessary. If the sheep don’t produce, the shepherd has no livelihood. Which brings us back to wool and mutton. Sheep have a purpose too, and there are some expectations of the sheep.

Well, analogies are fun and we could probably take this one into all kinds of different directions. But let’s work with the point of being cast out from the safety of the sheep pen. Should we all sell our possessions and give them to the poor? Or hold our possessions and money in common so that none among us will be in need, though Acts suggests it? Do we need to spend more time among the outcast and marginalized because it makes us good people and better Christians to serve those in need or to lend a helping hand?

I think that misses the point of being cast out from the safety of the sheep pen. The point is to be where the shepherd is; not in the sheep pen safe and surrounded and protected, but out in the fields – we follow the shepherd, which means we go where the shepherd goes.

Many years ago, I sat in a car in the pouring rain, with Rev. Alf Dumont, a United Church minister who is also of the Anishnabe peoples. We were talking about very concrete and real issues of colonialism, and my own guilt for those things done to aboriginal peoples in Canada. Alf’s words have never left me. “We don’t need you to carry the white man’s burden, or tell us how to do things; we need to you to walk with us in our experience and learn to understand.”

That is the point I think. Our liberation - our salvation if you will - as people of this faith, is inextricably tied into the salvation and liberation of all people. We cannot be liberated if we remain inside the sheep hold. The shepherd comes to the sheep hold to call us out, into the wild pasture, on turbulent waters, those places in the world where abundant life is waiting. May it be so.

Sources:

1.“The Shepherd Who Calls Us Out” A sermon for Good Shepherd Sunday Easter 4B – Rev. David R. Henson, April 2015
2.“Wool and Mutton” by Rev. James Liggett, Episcopal Church USA. A sermon for Easter 4B 2015.
3.Feasting on the Word, Lectionary Series. Easter 4B

Oh Canada!!!!

Sometimes cleaning and reorganising space can be a strange experience. Decided to get rid of the huge rattan chair in the living room, to make room for all the plants Moved the large green whatever Himself bought into the corner vacated by the chair. In order to do that had to remove two things stuck in the pot - one, a plastic sign with goofy animals on it, which says "Welcome to our funny farm." It was given to me when I started at Glen Ayr United, and I cherish it. The second item was a Canadian flag. I honestly stood here and debated whether to keep it or toss it out. The Canada of today is nowhere near the Canada I remember growing up in. I was a baby boomer, post-war, lived on the prairies in serious down times for farmers, saw the beginnings of our Medicare system as it came to be in Saskatchewan; rubbed my tiny elbows with Tommy Douglas; shook hands in church with John Diefenbaker; got excited by Canada's role in peace-keeping, rather than war-mongering; demonstrated against the war in Viet Nam in Winnipeg - a march in which the police *joined*. Canada was well respected all over the world. When I finally did go to Viet Nam to live during the war, where people thought I was American - all I had to say was "Yanadai" (Canadian) and watch their faces break out into smiles as they replied "Canada Number 1 !!!!". Canada had a progressive policy for welcoming refugees from everywhere, and we tried hard to help them make a good life here. Didn't always work but it was an ideal. OK, so our aboriginal peoples have not fared well under any of our governments, right from the beginning. We've had some good governments and some not-so-good ones. Yet all of them were committed in one way or another to a vision of Canada as a model of social democracy, living next to a country which thinks socialism = communism = fascism. Today, we have a country bordering on dictatorship; our government is a collection of dishonest people who lie without compunction, and turn a blind eye to anything contrary they don't like. Democratic process and transparency don't matter any more; the *people* don't matter any more. Our Prime Minister reminds me of Richard Nixon, except ours is not only dishonest, he's a right-wing religious fanatic who will bring true fascism to this country if he isn't stopped. Norio and I have discussed, more and more in the last few years, if we really want to live in either country any more. Japan is going the same way as Canada, with constitutional changes which will make it a military power without restraint. So we look at Portugal, Spain, Finland, Norway - yet even those have their right-wing elements emerging. In the end I put my Canadian flag back into the pot beside the goofy little sign - I have to have hope that the people of Canada will wake up before we lose everything which made us the envy of the world, instead of the laughing stock we are now.

Good Morning, Sunshine

Good Morning, Sunshine!!!! Here in Toronto it's just one of those fabulous days that only the fall can bring. I took an Alaska cruise about six years ago, and the Captain - the stunning Bjorn Broch Johansen, started every morning with that over the tannoy - followed with "If you're not up yet, wakey wakey!!!" I won't tell you some of the things we thought of doing to Bjorn but couldn't, as he was the captain, after all. A very funny woman at the dinner table told him ever so quietly that he needed to be a little softer However, the more I think about it, the more I think it's a really good attitude to life. So hats off to Bjorn (wherever you are on the ocean today). Of course, it's easy when one wakes up and the sun is shining, the sky is blue and the day is beautiful. It's harder when the sun doesn't shine, it's pouring rain, or snowing - and life doesn't have the same optimistic cast as it does other days. Almost fifty years ago, I remember sitting in church listening to my father preach at Deer Lodge United Church in Winnipeg - one of his last sermons. He and my mother had just separated, and I was the only sibling left at home. He spent about three days in bed not talking or eating, and then on Sunday he got up and preached about life - that whatever life brings - whether death, great disappointment, deep hurt, disease or pain, that *life is good* and that we learn to appreciate how good it is as we struggle to cope with the deeply painful and difficult times. I don't think it's accidental that my father was a member of the Optimist's Club. He told me once that he thought I wasn't listening, and then at a Confirmation Class he suddenly realised I was indeed listening. One of the things left after Dad died was his membership plaque in the Optimist's Club. I think it's worth hanging on to, because life *is* good. No matter what it brings to us. In a world where so many have almost nothing, and we are privileged, life is good. All of it. 

Don’t Look Down!!!! A sermon based upon Matthew 14:22-33 preached at Leaside United Church, Toronto

There’s a wonderful scene in the movie Shrek, where Donkey is following Shrek across a wooden suspension bridge, over a deep pit full of lava, to rescue the Princess Fiona; Donkey is terrified of heights, and the bridge doesn’t look any too strong either. He doesn’t want to step out; Shrek tells him “You can do it, come on. Just don’t look down.” Donkey begins on the bridge, eyes squeezed shut, and saying to himself “Don’t look down, don’t look down.” and about halfway across he can’t risk peeking out of one eye, and he looks down – and of course suddenly panic sets in.

Well, today’s Gospel is a kind of “Don’t look down” story, isn’t it? There they are, disciples out in the boat, middle of the night, doing what Jesus told them to do, and a storm comes up. They are afraid. They see Jesus coming to them, walking across the water, which makes then even more afraid. Dear old impetuous Peter says to Jesus “tell me to walk on the water.” Jesus replies “Go for it!!” Peter climbs out of the boat, looking straight at Jesus, walking across the surface of the water; he looks down and realises what’s happening - and then he starts to sink.

Now, several of the disciples were fishermen. They had spent much of their lives out on the lake, knew that such squalls could come up quickly without much warning. All of that experience and knowledge did not keep them from being afraid as the wind howled and the waves crashed. Fear is the overwhelming emotion in this story. Fear of the storm, fear seeing Jesus walking on the water, first thinking it is a ghost.  Peter is afraid of going out on the water himself. 

In doing a little research on storms on the Lake of Galilee, I found some interesting things. I didn’t know, for instance, that the shallower the water, the more violent the wave motion will be. The Lake of Galilee is situated between two sets of mountains. It gets hot down near the lake, but in the mountains there is very cold air – and the resulting clashes will bring sudden high winds and rainstorms, and whip the lake into a fury. In the course of that search, and a story about the Edmund Fitzgerald sinking on Lake Superior; did you know that Lake Erie is only 200 feet at its deepest point – and the storms on Lake Erie are far more dangerous than storms on – say – Lake Superior where the water is deeper. When you have a moment to Google sometime, take a look at the number of shipwrecks in Lake Erie.

It seems to me that today’s story really has two parts - getting *in* the boat, and then getting *out* again. Jesus tells the disciples to get in the boat and go over “to the other side”, go on ahead, he will catch up. On the way to the other side, a storm comes up; crashing winds and waves, they are terrified of losing their lives; Jesus comes to them walking across the water and says “Ok, get out of the boat. Go for it.”

If we view this as a story about a miracle - something which completely defies the laws of nature - then the whole core of the story is lost; but if we view this as a story of faith, of real life, with many layers, then the lesson takes on different meaning.

Getting *into* the boat seems synonymous with being willing to explore faith. Getting *out* of the boat,  taking the risk of actually braving the wind and the waves – is called faith in action.What happens if we use the traditional interpretation of the boat as the church - our “nave” being the body of the ship? Then getting *in* to the boat means coming together in faith as a community,  and taking a journey – to a place curiously not specified, just “the other side”. Jesus says “get in the boat and go to the other side”. No specifics, just “the other side”.  Go somewhere - do something – use the boat to get you there. Jesus is elsewhere, doing other things, trusting that his followers also have trust and can be doing the work of the realm without him right there all the time.

So the little boat, the church, finds itself in the midst of a storm. Now, what is our natural response? Hunker down, of course, and wait for the storm to blow over. But there’s a major question; the disciples were fishermen, most of them – so did they spend all their lives in the boat, never getting out at all? Do we make our life inside the boat? Or do we get off from time to time and connect with the world around us.

In researching storms and lakes, I also discovered an early Jewish belief, that demons lived in the water, beneath the surface.  Now add *that* piece to the story, a cultural context which we don’t even know about, but which was Peter’s and the disciples’ context; once you add that piece, Peter’s willingness to step out of the boat is more than just faith, it also requires overcoming the fear of the things that lurk in the water, as well as the waves and wind which threaten. He’s doing fine, until he looks down, and starts thinking about the evil things under the surface, the possibility of drowning in this storm, of all things coming to an end, and his fear overwhelms him. He can’t keep his focus, he can’t hold Jesus in the centre, all the worst possibilities for what might happen overwhelm him, and he begins to sink.

Well, we in the church have specific ways of doing things, specific ways of being church, which have evolved throughout our history. We tend to think they haven’t - but in fact, even a cursory look at the church of a hundred, or two hundred years ago, demonstrates an institution vastly different than the church today. The church of two hundred years ago supported slavery of black peoples, supported the use of the Chinese as cheap indentured labour, believed in crushing an assimilating aboriginal peoples, believed that women could not provide adequate leadership. Hasn’t that changed? Our hymnbooks have changed. Several years ago in a congregation where I was music director, I was told “That last hymn – we don’t know that. Why can’t we sing the good old hymns?” and I thought to myself “Never say that to a church musician.” Two weeks later, a hymn was included which was a good three hundred years old. Same person came with the same comment “I didn’t know that hymn.” To which I replied “But you asked to sing more of the good old hymns.” There was a stunned silence, followed by “Ah. I understand. Very clever.”

Go back and look at the hymnbooks of 150 years ago. I guarantee you won’t know most of those hymns; they will be totally unfamiliar. Heavens, look at a hymnal in any European church – there are reams of hymns we don’t know and never will. Change happens, whether we like it or not. The way we have always done things is not necessarily the way things were done before our time, and I will stick my neck way out, and say that our personal comfort and happiness in church is not really the most important thing. Too many churches have gone under trying to keep everyone “happy”.  Many seem to think that the church is supposed to be here to provide a safe place which caters to our individual wants. I use the word wants on purpose too. We tend to confuse our needs and our wants. We don’t need the good old hymns, but they do make us feel safer because they are grounded in the familiar, when the storm outside the ship threatens us, and we are afraid to try walking on water.

Even  so, we want to challenge Jesus, as Peter did, to give us power to walk on water, and then when he says “Sure, go ahead, do something different, walk on the water. Put your belief where your mouth is.” we start thinking of all the reasons we can’t do it – there are big waves, if we look down we see all the monsters which will hold us back; and we sink.

One of the things I have enjoyed most here at Leaside is that the minister is not expected to do everything so that everyone else won’t have to do anything. It takes a lot of will and a lot of patience on the part of a congregation to move itself to being a community living in faith, and living out faith, together. Too many congregations want a minister who will do it all, so they can come and feel comfortable, and not have to worry about getting out of the boat. In another congregation I served, when the Session was in training to do pastoral visiting, someone commented “Pastoral care isn’t the role of the congregation; we pay a minister to do that.” My response was that if pastoral care is not the role of all the people, then don’t bother to come to church, because the message is wasted. Yes, we clergy can get snippy with people on occasion – but I do see that as our role sometimes: to comfort those who are truly afflicted, and to be a thorn in the side of those who are just too comfortable and don’t want to be disturbed at all. Jesus, if taken seriously, is a disturbing person and calls us to be disturbed as well.

Was Jesus really worried about the comfort of the disciples? Or did he say “Get out of the boat. Come on in, the water’s fine. Try something new, don’t sit there paralysed by fear, or wanting to live in oblivious comfort.”

 I remind you again - in this story, Jesus isn’t in the boat - Jesus isn’t here - Jesus is somewhere else, where the difficult stuff is..

One of my online colleagues, Rev. Thom Schuman, wrote this reflection:

What if we COULD walk on water?

What if we COULD end poverty in our time?

What if we COULD make a difference in our communities?

What if we COULD do exactly what Jesus keeps telling us over and over that we can do?

What if we COULD be bold disciples??

Marianne Williamson, author, lecturer and teacher said “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, "Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?" The real question should be, “Who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to manifest the glory of God within us...and as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

Jesus was probably saying the same to Peter - as you are liberated from your own fear you will also liberate others. This is what Jesus has called all of us to do and be. May we not be afraid to forego our comfort, not be afraid to step out of the boat, on to the water; not be afraid to look down; and still be able to walk on water. May it be so.

Feeding Multitudes a sermon based on Matthew 14:13-21 Preached at Leaside United Church August 3, 2014

When Jesus got the news, he slipped away by boat to an out-of-the-way place by himself. Unsuccessfully - someone saw him and word got around. Soon a lot of people from nearby villages walked around the lake to where he was. When he saw them coming, he was overcome with pity and healed their sick. Toward evening the disciples approached him. “We’re out in the country and it’s getting late. Dismiss the people so they can go to the villages and get some supper.”  Jesus said, “There is no need to dismiss them. You give them supper.”  “All we have are five loaves of bread and two fish,” they said. Jesus said, “Bring them here.” Then he had the people sit on the grass. He took the five loaves and two fish, lifted his face to heaven in prayer, blessed, broke, and gave the bread to the disciples. The disciples then gave the food to the congregation. They all ate their fill. They gathered twelve baskets of leftovers. About five thousand were fed.

********************************************************************

“And where is the little boy?” you ask. Well, that’s John’s version of this story. It’s interesting how we retain one particular version of a story, because it appeals to us – and forget that there are other versions, and forget that the Gospels are not all the same.

So today we’re working with Matthew’s version, which does not have a child sharing food, but only the disciples who have brought a little with them. The disciples, looking at what they have, realize there’s only enough for them. Jesus turns it into an object lesson of who is responsible for whom.

The crowds first appear after Jesus has gone among the people, teaching them and curing them of their illnesses. The crowds begin to follow him, listening as he speaks.  They follow him everywhere, and he continually has compassion for them, and teaches them and cures their ills. Jesus sees them as harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd, and he takes responsibility for them, becoming their shepherd. He teaches them, and continues to heal their sick. Most of the time they follow him of their own accord. Sometimes Jesus sends them away, but they always return. They joyously welcome him to Jerusalem, and then they come after him with swords and clubs at Gethsemane. Persuaded by the chief priests, they demand that Barabbas be released, and that Jesus be crucified. They have their moments of great faith, and they have their moments of great doubt and fear. They suffer, and they rejoice.

Jesus had his followers at his disposal, and Matthew tells us a crowd of about five thousand men. Do we seriously believe there were five thousand men, but no women and children? – so let say at least ten thousand if not more. Surely some of the men would have funds. The disciples, and the women who travelled with them, had money. But in this story Jesus turns the crowd into the ‘key player’.

During Jesus’ time, barley was the economy grade food of the day. Not the stuff that would be considered top‑shelf. A humble food, not very expensive. The bread of the people would be coarse, heavy stuff for everyday use. The terms loaves might also be misleading, suggesting something like our loaves of bread. I think it was much more likely to have been like pita bread or pancakes.

I am sure the disciples knew, as Jesus did, that there were people there who had plenty of food.  – and I can’t help but think of Paul’s letters to the Corinthians, where he chastises the house churches and the community meals;  the wealthy would hold aside their own food, or eat first before arriving, rather than sharing, because their food was better than that of the poorer people

Something else sticks out, too. Here’s a crowd of many adults, yet none of them, including the disciples, seems to be able to figure out how to get these people fed. Jesus does. When the disciples says “send them home before it gets dark so they can eat”. Jesus says – “No, you feed them.”

Some will say Jesus performed a miracle that day. I am inclined to say the crowd performed the miracle. Jesus simply offered everything there was, in faith. The people around him realised there was in fact a solution. Some of them, wealthier people who followed Jesus, had brought food. So had some of the poorer, - rough barley loaves made from the cheapest flour, and a couple of small fish. – yet when all the food was shared, there was more than enough. That was the true miracle. Jesus made the disciples use their heads.

I heard a comment this week, that the problem in the world isn’t poverty, it’s wealth. Sure, many wealthy people give generously - but if we took all the available wealth in the world what would happen. Everyone would have enough food; everyone would have shelter, education, medical care. Aids and cancer research would be funded for years to come. Hospitals would not struggle for funding, and would be able to attract the doctors and staff they need. What does it mean to “feed the crowd.”?

Jesus’ comment “You feed them” refers to more than food. Everywhere Jesus goes, people follow – to hear his words, to be healed, to be fed – not just the physical feeding – but a spiritual feeding as well. I find myself comparing this model to ministry today. We mourn the closing of churches, and yet I’ve known churches which took the feeding of people – physically as well as spiritually – as a community mission, and those congregations showed the result; I’ve known congregations which felt that all the feeding should be done by the minister, and that they had no responsibility for anything more than a bit of charity, and getting enough money to keep the doors open. “The minister is responsible for pastoral care, not the congregation.” was the comment. Yet when the disciples would palm off responsibility elsewhere, Jesus says “No, YOU feed them.” YOU do it. This is YOUR role.

Can you hear another time those words come up? Jesus asks Peter “Do you love me?” and Peter responds “Lord, you know I love you.” Jesus says to him “Then feed my sheep. Look after my lambs.” We have to take our place and our responsibility in the crowd. We have to find all the possible ways to feed the people who come looking for both kinds of food. Jesus did that for the crowd, pointed out to the disciples that it was their responsibility too – and the crowd became responsible for each other – and miraculously, there was enough food. Jesus taught, preached, and healed – meeting spiritual needs – and said to the disciples “You feed them as well.”

They seem so simple, these stories of Jesus. But they aren’t. Jesus always had a teaching moment – this is one of them. May it be so.

Sources:

1.      Loaves and Fishes – Sermon Based on Matthew 14:13-21 by Rev. Fran Ota

2.      Taking Our Place in the Crowd Sermon based on Matthew 14:13-21 by Rev. Karen A. Goltz

The Realm of God is Like……. A sermon based on Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52 Preached at Leaside United Church July 27, 2014

Remember the TV series called Touched by an Angel, which ran from 1994 to 2003? In one episode called “Netherlands” Monica the angel finds herself in conversation with Satan; she has become disillusioned with people, following the bombing of a building in which several people die; she despairs. Satan in this episode functions as the adversary, the one who encourages despair, trying to get Monica to give up on God, and the realm of God.

You turned your back on God – he says. She replies, I turned my back on humanity. The adversary replies “humans, maybe, not humanity.”

As he tries to convince her to abandon God, he says “Don’t think of me as the enemy, but the alternative. Remember, I know how it feels, I’ve been there too, I’ve been where you are.” Monica sees a vision of what might have been were she human – having children, a husband, love – a peaceful and fulfilling life, a vision of the realm of God. She feels as if she has lost it somewhere, and in a particularly poignant scene, in tears, she says “I don’t understand any more.”

We humans think of evil as strong because we perceive it as focused negativity, and that’s probably correct; in this episode of “Touched by an Angel”, the negativity is focused, but it is masked as the voice of reason which says “but I can help you understand”. The Adversary presents all the arguments against God’s realm, the destructiveness of humanity, the little voice which whispers into even an angel’s ear “I could do better – leave this, come with me, I understand.”  We think of good as unfocused benevolent feelings but without definite aims or goal, and that’s where Monica finds herself – a being called into existence to love with a goal, suddenly lost and without a goal, and unable to find God any more, and unable to see the realm of God, close at hand.

In some ways I think we’ve spent too long with ‘gentle Jesus, meek and mild”. Yet Jesus confronts us with a clear and definite challenge of the power of God's love as the basic element and goal of the universe; it is not the muddled and twisted notions of power we humans have, and continue to try to live out in bombing and war and violence, and political manipulations, and fear-mongering.  

In today’s text, Jesus says the realm of God is like a mustard seed that grows into a shrub, then a tree, so that the birds come and nest in it. To us, centuries and many cultures away from Jesus’ time, this seems like nothing at all. A tiny seed which grew into a tree and provided shelter for birds. How ecologically wonderful. Yet for the Hebrews listening to Jesus, it is an offensive statement. Nations compared to trees, just as we compare nations to animals. How can a shrub become a tree? Nesting birds are a sign of dirt and pollution, contamination. So we have Jesus really saying that the realm of God is not like earthly notions of power; what is small and despised becomes greater than what reality would predict, and those considered unclean or outcast come to make a home there.

In traditional Jewish culture, purity laws were and are extremely important – and Jesus spent a lot of time contradicting the purity laws when they were a hindrance to a vision of the realm of God. He says it is like yeast that a woman mixes with three measures of flour until all of it is leavened. Jesus compared God’s realm to a woman! That was offensive then, and would be considered offensive by some even today. The realm of God is like yeast? Yeast is considered unclean on holy days, and must be thrown out to maintain kosher purity – hence on high holy days unleavened bread only is to be used. So, Jesus said the realm of God is like something impure that permeates the flour and changes it. Three measures of flour makes about one hundred pounds of bread. Why would a woman make one hundred pounds of bread?

The realm of God is like a treasure someone finds in a field; that person sells all he has in order to buy the field. Does this sound right? Aren't we supposed to work for what we get? Is it right for someone to trespass on another's land, find a treasure, and then buy the land for the treasure? In Jesus’ time, there weren’t banks, although there were money lenders and changers. The acceptable and normal thing to do is to bury a great treasure somewhere to keep it safe. That was the acceptable thing to do. So what is the point? Is Jesus perhaps leading us into places where we can see that the treasure of heaven is greater than anything we could have on our own. The realm of God is like the pearl of great price. If we truly see the value of God's realm, would we do anything to possess what is so rare and precious. 

The realm of God is like a net that catches good fish and trash fish. The net of God is thrown wide to catch everything, and God will do the sorting. Jesus asked His disciples, "Have you understood all this?" They answered, "Yes." Jesus asks us, "Have you understood all this?" What do we answer?

Well, don’t worry. I don’t think the disciples really understood, because ideas of power and reality are turned upside-down and inside out and every human since almost the dawn of time has been misled about what power is, and what it is meant to be; misled about the nature of humans and the nature of God.

So what is Jesus really saying here? Does it need a specific explanation, that we can just walk away and say “Yeah, the realm of God is……?” This whole series of parables uses everyday objects… was that Jesus’ point… that the realm is not something lofty and ‘out there’, but present and down here, right at hand.                                                                                        

I think we’ve tended to take the easy road, and turn these parables into proverbs of some kind -  “big things sometimes have small beginnings” or “don’t judge something based on its size.” Makes sense on a superficial level, as each parable talks about something small – a mustard seed or a bit of yeast – blossoming into something much grander. Then we have to pull ourselves up short and remember that neither mustard seed nor yeast was viewed positively in Jesus’ world. Mustard was a weed, dreaded by farmers the way today’s gardeners dread kudzu, crabgrass. It starts out small, but before long has taken over your field. Similarly, yeast was a contaminant considered unclean for the high holy days, and was often used to represent the worst of evils.

So why compare the realm of God to a pernicious weed and a pollutant? Might God’s kingdom be like that – far more potent than we think, able to spread to every corner of our lives? If we consider that Sunday worship, or Bible study,  might lead to our lives being infiltrated, changed, and taken over by God’s reality, how do we feel?

Each of these parables might mean several things. Perhaps to some they may function as a warning: Be careful. People infected by the gospel have done counter-cultural things like sharing all they have, standing up for their values, caring for the underprivileged, and sharing their faith through action. To others they might serve as a much-needed word of encouragement: Hang in there! God’s realm is closer than you think, already changing your life. They might be a profound promise: Don’t be discouraged, God’s realm will prevail. In the face the senseless violence and anger of humans, we claim God’s peace. When faced with hate, we proclaim love. 

Several years ago, Starbucks Coffee launched a campaign called “The Way I See It.”, and various quotes from different sources were printed on the coffee cups. Let’s try an experiment – I want you to take the piece of paper you have, and a pen or pencil, and fill what the phrase “realm of God” or “Kingdom of heaven” means to you – and perhaps some of you will be able to share what God’s realm is to you…