What is Hidden in Bread and Fish?

Matthew 14.13-21

      The feeding of the multitude: Who doesn’t know something of this story in which what seems at first glance like scarcity, or the lack of “enough” to accomplish a task, is transformed into a story of plenty?

But the truth is, rather than a story of insufficiency, what we have here is a story that instead becomes a tale of abundance illustrated by an overflowing profusion of food produced from only five loaves of bread and two fish.

      This is the only miracle story that appears in all four gospel accounts. Each of the evangelists, therefore, found something profound and necessary for the life of faith and discipleship in this miracle of feeding, especially for the early church.

There is something profound and necessa

ry for the life of faith and discipleship in this miracle of feeding for us as well, especially for today.

We live in a world where scarcity stares us in the face every day. Every message we hear from the world around us is designed to reinforce the idea that there is not enough to go around, and that we need to look out for the bottom line; there is not enough happiness, food, or wealth; there are not enough resources, jobs, or homes. There is not enough for everyone, therefore, the message continues, we need to protect what is ours, we have to keep the “others” out.

       Who among us wouldn’t love to have been on that Galilean hillside? Who wouldn’t love to see such a miracle – even to be part of it? To set our worries of scarcity aside? To witness the scope of Jesus’ care and provision for every last person there, with such an abundance that there were leftovers aplenty?

Yet as we gather each Sunday around the table of goodness and life, we do witness such a miracle. We hear of God’s steadfast love and mercy, of God’s power to provide our every need, even our salvation.

We share in an abundant smorgasbord of God’s compassion, goodness and love, with plenty to go around, and enough left over that God sends us out from this place to share of our bounty and the good news with our neighbors.

      But I’m getting ahead of myself. Because there is more to this story than just a tale of a vast crowd that numbers in the thousands, out in the wilderness of Galilee, where each person present received and ate a satisfying helping of bread and fish in the company of thousands of other men, woman and children, with copious amounts of leftovers to boot!

There is a wider connection than simply the story of a meal, as wonderful and miraculous as that is, for our life of discipleship today.

      Because the story begins not with the feast but with Jesus and the disciples seeking to get away – to be by themselves. Jesus himself goes to a deserted place to be alone. The news has just caught up to them, that John the Baptist had been killed – beheaded by Herod. We can only imagine the sadness, grief and confusion that must have overcome them.

How could this have happened to their friend? How could John be gone, so cruelly murdered? And what did this mean for them? For the ministry of Jesus? For those who followed?

Of course they needed to get away, to tend to the business of mourning, and to grieve the death of their friend. But suddenly they realize that they are not alone. They are not the only ones suffering. The crowds have heard the news as well, and they followed Jesus to be with him, perhaps to have him reassure them that all would be okay, that God was still in charge, that they would be cared for.

It is at this point that, despite his own pain and sorrow, Jesus does what God always does. He has compassion on those who suffer. Jesus literally feels with and for all these people. Jesus cares about their suffering, so much so that he turns aside from his own grief and he cares for them. He loves them. He cures their sick, perhaps as a sign to them that the power of God would prevail against every evil, every earthly power, and every illness in the world.

Finally, as evening approaches, the disciples come to Jesus. They are feeling depleted. The need is great and they just can’t take care of the great need before them. Send them away, they tell Jesus. Tell them to go back to the villages, to go get some supper, to tend to their own needs.

Jesus, who has been caring and loving and healing the people in these crowds won’t send them away, but note that he also doesn’t feed them now. Not by himself. Instead, Jesus sends the disciples to feed them. “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.”

Jesus is telling us the same today. His words have echoed in my mind all week as I have contemplated this message. “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.”

Jesus says the same to us today, that despite the voices that surround us, telling us that there is never enough and that we must therefore protect “our own” we have work to do.

Jesus gives us the poor and the lonely, the oppressed and the ill, the weak and the dying, and tells us to show them his compassion. Just as Jesus gives us every blessing in which we partake, Jesus gives us all these as well. And Jesus tells us, “Don’t send them away. Care for them. Give them something to eat.”

In our text, the disciples respond, that they simply don’t have enough. This is crazy, Jesus, we can’t do it. We can’t take care of them. Send them away to care for themselves. Send them on their way so that we don’t have to do this. The truth is that the disciples were weak, weary, sad, and grieving, and they were overwhelmed with the magnitude of what Jesus was asking them to do.

Sound familiar?

When we are exhausted, scared that we don’t have enough to give or that there isn’t enough to go around, Jesus responds to us, “They need not go away; You, tend to them.” And then, Jesus makes it possible for us to follow his word.

In the text today, the disciples didn’t know how this would all work out, but they followed Jesus’ command. They clung to God’s Word. They clung to Jesus and trusted in him, even if, in that moment they doubted how things would work out.

It’s a powerful, beautiful image – struggling, even wrestling with what God has demanded, even as we cling in faith to what Jesus tells us to do; even as Jesus sends us out from the table and from our assembly this day, to do as he has done.

We confess that like the disciples, we are not up for the magnitude of the job. And yet, God invites us to the table and welcomes us to a feast of food and drink that are entirely free – “everyone who thirsts, come to the water; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy….. without money and without price.”

God welcomes us to this table, makes of us a beautiful community and feeds us live-giving food, Jesus Christ. God reminds us that through Christ, when we need it most, God will give us the power and ability to obey.

When we think that we cannot manage, that there is not enough food, not enough resources, not enough of us, not enough within us, God, in love and mercy for all this fallen world, provides just what we need, with an abundance of leftovers.

That is the Good News for us today. That when we follow Jesus’ command, when we join together in unity and faithfulness, God will be with us, making miracles happen, turning our scarcity into God’s abundant mercy. God uses our best efforts and transforms them into the fulfilling of God’s intention for love, peace and justice in the world to ultimately prevail.

God calls us to be partners with God in making fullness of life a reality today for the world that God loves. Let it be so.

Amen.

 

It is Good for Us to be Here!

Matthew 17:1-9 Transfiguration of Our Lord.

It is good for us to be here.

Peter’s words, spoken on the top of the mountain that day; they are our words today as well. It is good for us to be here.

            To be honest, however, I’m not sure what Peter meant when he spoke those words. Was it good – for the church - that they be there because they had witnessed this transfiguration of Jesus – and three witnesses are better than one?

Was it good – for them - that they be there because it set the three of them, Peter, James and John apart from the other disciples and gave them special insight, even authority in the church? After all, aren’t these the same disciples who argued over which one was greater?

Or, was it good that they be there because now, Peter’s confession of Jesus’ divinity had been divinely, mystically affirmed?

The truth is, the disciples’ witness of the Transfiguration of Jesus wasn’t for their own benefit, or even for their “now,” rather, it was for what was to come. Jesus is preparing them for the time when he will no longer with them, following events that will confound, frighten and even paralyze them. They need to know, believe and trust, as do we, who Jesus is, and Jesus is preparing them to lead the church confidently, knowing exactly who he is.

It was not long before this, as the disciples and Jesus were hanging out in Caesarea Philippi, where they were surrounded by pagan temples and idols, that Jesus asked his disciples the question, “Who do you say I am?” Simon Peter had made the bold confession, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”

            That had been a watershed moment; An exciting moment; an exhilarating moment. And Peter had been rewarded by Jesus’ confirmation that this was not only true but that God himself had blessed Simon Peter, with this knowledge. This simple fisherman-turned-disciple, who would now be simply called, ‘Peter.’

            And yet, in the days that had followed, Peter’s confession, the high exhilaration of knowing that they were in the presence of the Messiah, had given way to frustration and devastation, confusion and darkness as Jesus began making predictions of his coming passion and death. Peter had been so disturbed by Jesus’ predictions that he had tried to shush Jesus, earning himself a harsh rebuke from Our Lord.

            And now, six days later, six being the number considered necessary to prepare for a holy event in Israel, when Jesus leads these three disciples up the mountain. And there they witness just such a holy event when Jesus is transfigured before them. The divine confirmation and full knowledge of Jesus’ deity is made complete.

            What happened on that mountain was not a simple visual transformation, where Jesus’ appearance was altered or morphed into something else. We are very familiar with that kind of transformation thanks to the assistance of computer-generated imaging so popular in the entertainment world these days. And Jesus didn’t turn into something or someone else and then turn back to himself.

Rather, Jesus himself took on a brilliant luminescence unlike anything we might imagine. Transfiguration is defined as a complete change in form or appearance into a more beautiful or spiritual state. When Jesus was transfigured before Peter, James and John that day, his appearance changed in such a way that they recognized their Lord, and in that moment fully comprehended his heavenly glory. It is the only time in his earthly career the Jesus’ dignity and deity were made gloriously – even spectacularly clear. They could not doubt for a moment exactly who Jesus was.

            And then he was joined by Moses and Elijah – the two historic and religious figures of Judaism who represented the law and the prophets. Jesus already said he did not come to abolish the importance of their witness of God’s majesty, but whose message and work he has come to fulfill. As the Son of God, his Word has authority to interpret what Moses and Elijah have brought and done for the people of Israel.

            Lord, it is good for us to be here.

            What follows is what makes it especially good for us to be here today, to hear the divine words that were spoken on that mountain that day.

The disciples were overwhelmed at what was happening and what they were hearing on the mountain. And in our world and in our lives today, so often, we, too, are overwhelmed.

            But as Jesus literally shines and glows before them, God’s voice is heard, declaring God’s verdict on Jesus’ identity. “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased.” And finally, the first of three instructions coming to us from this gospel text today: Listen to him. Listen to Jesus, who is God’s Word incarnate. And God has much to say.

You see, despite what some might say, God is not silent in our world. God is not silent in our pain. God is not silent in the face of injustice. God is not silent in the face of our confusion, our doubt, our questioning. God is not silent in the face of evil. God is not silent in the face of sin.

The fact is, God talks quite a lot! If only we have ears to listen. God invites us to listen now, to the Word of God present, speaking, teaching and living in Jesus Christ. Listen to Him God commands. This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased. Now, listen to him!

God speaks to us first and foremost in Jesus. God has given Jesus the authority to speak and to teach, to heal and forgive. As God once communicated and worked through Moses, ultimately blessing the people with life-giving law, and then spoke and worked through Elijah and the prophets, both warning of judgment and passing along God’s promises, God now speaks through His incarnated Word, making it possible for us to know God’s grace and mercy.

Lord, it is good to be here.

We gather today to hear God’s Word and to learn from and with one another how God is active in our lives. We gather to discern what God is calling us to as a community of Christ, dedicated to listening to, hearing and then following God’s will. Jesus comes to us through the Holy Spirit and helps us as we listen to the scriptures, as we observe what Jesus says and does, as we notice those to whom Jesus reaches out, pays attention, and gives a healing, helping hand. Lord, it is good to be here.

Next thing in today’s text, when the disciples were overcome with fear from the luminescent experience of the divine, what did Jesus do? He touched them. He said to them, “get up.” Only, the word used here is not just “get up,” but instead is the same word the angels use at the empty tomb on Easter morning: “He is not here; he has been raised!” (28:6)

Jesus touches his quaking disciples and tells them to “be raised up.” To be resurrected, even. And God has given Jesus the authority to make this happen. The good news for us is that even when we feel overwhelmed by the chaos in the world, and the challenge of the task before us, Jesus touches us; Jesus tells us, “be raised up.” Listen to him.

Today we might hear Jesus’ words as a call to action that energizes us, gives us the will to act and to make a difference in the lives of those we are called to serve. Listening to Jesus gives us the ability to be about the works of mercy and kindness, compassion and love to which God always calls us. Lord, it is good for us to be here.

Finally, Jesus delivers a promise when he says to the disciples, “Do not be afraid.” How often have we heard those words in the stories from the bible, usually at times when only an insane person would not be afraid? And yet here is Jesus, shown in his glory upon that mountain, yet already having presented a picture of his future passion, death, and resurrection, and he says to his disciples, to us, “do not be afraid”.

We haven’t seen this heavenly, overwhelming, confusing vision, but there are many things of which we are afraid. The things that frighten us might be things like terrorism, the threat of nuclear attack, the threat or reality of illness and disease, the potentially diminishing future for our children, the devastating effects of global warming, and unexpected death – the list seems inexhaustible. You can make up your own list. And yet, into this, Jesus says, “do not be afraid.”

The gospel good news for us today is that God is God of the past, the present and the future. For this reason alone we need not be afraid. Despite the problems, hardship and suffering that are part of human life, despite our own brokenness and the tension in our world, Jesus invites us to trust God to be God, always present and always speaking into our world for our individual and communal good. And God says, Listen to him.

We gather here this morning to remember and rejoice that God is always with us. We come to hear God’s Word. God did not create us for fear and death but for life in his name, sending Jesus and granting him full authority over our lives so that we might learn to move forward with courage and confidence, even in uncertain times.

Listen. Be raised up. Do not be afraid. Jesus delivers these words then starts down the mountain. The brilliance of Jesus’ Transfiguration glory balances the suffering and devastation of the Cross to come, as he sets his face toward Jerusalem.

The reflected light and Epiphany revelation are over. The work of Lent begins this week as we, too, set our faces toward Jerusalem. Glory be to God for this Transfiguration and the promise inherent in God’s definitive declaration, This is my Son, the Beloved, Listen to Him!

Let us Listen, may we be raised up, and may we not be afraid, for the glorious Word of God is with us.

Puzzling Riddles and Conundrums

Romans 7:15-25a

            I enjoy puzzles, and I love the fact that they come in so many shapes and sizes. There are jigsaw puzzles and crossword puzzles, wordsearch puzzles and sequence puzzles. There are puzzles involving numbers or shapes or logic. A few years ago I was obsessed with Sudoku; since I was a teen I have loved to play another kind of puzzle, Scrabble, whether on a good old-fashioned playing board or more recently, with any of the many computer-generated or internet games that resemble that game – is anyone here up to a Words With Friends challenge? If so, meet me on Facebook!

            An ancient form of puzzle is the riddle. Riddles have been around for about as long as language has existed and probably, in some form or another even before. Riddles may include “everlasting nuggets of wisdom” or “silly twists on words”.  They may be intended to impart wisdom, speaking common truths and bits of logic, or they may simply be designed to challenge and entertain.

            Sumerian riddles are found on cuneiform tablets dating to the 18^th century BC, for instance. Here is the paraphrase of one of them:

There is a house. 

One enters it blind and comes out seeing. 

What is it?’

Answer: A School.

            Philosophers and comedians alike have used riddles to test their listeners. Albert Einstein, wrote this one:

If you were standing on the South Pole facing north, and you take one step backward, which way would you be traveling?

Answer: North, since all directions from the South Pole are north.   

Kids love riddles too. My four year old grandson fancies himself king of the knock-knock joke these days – yet another kind of riddle.

While all riddles have answers, and if you are lucky the answers might even make sense if you think about them long and hard enough, there are some puzzles that seem to have no sensible answer. Those are called conundrums.  People like me like puzzles, because while challenging, through using logic and intelligence, and sometimes, I have to admit, more than a little luck, we can often come up with the answer – and then our ego is fed. But conundrums are different. The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines a conundrum as “a confusing or difficult problem.” Some people consider true conundrums to be truly unsolvable.

Many of the writings of the Apostle Paul frankly read and feel a bit like puzzles or riddles – or, more accurately, like conundrums. Today’s Epistle is one of these. In this Epistle, Paul describes the battle that takes place within each and every one of us. “I do not understand my own actions,” Paul laments. “I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” There is a strong sense of universal puzzle present in this passage – a struggle we can all identify with pretty well, I think. It’s a conundrum – I continually do the things I know I shouldn’t do – and, no matter how hard I try, there are some things, I cannot seem to avoid doing. Paul’s not alone here, is he?

We all face temptation. Our world, our lives are filled with them, in fact. If we took the time to examine ourselves, most of us would pretty quickly come up with a laundry list of the “things we shouldn’t do” – but “do” anyway. Some of those things are relatively harmless – like, I know I shouldn’t really drive those extra 5 miles per hour over the speed limit – yet, you know I do. (I can see my husband rolling his eyes over there).

And I could identify those things I should do that I don’t do – like I really know that I should forgive and forget the slight, the thoughtless word directed my way, or the hurtful thing someone else did. After all Jesus himself tells us that forgiveness is crucial to our well-being and our relationships – and we should forgive as we have been forgiven. Yet I confess that sometimes, it’s the forgetting part that is a real challenge for me. Forgiving often comes easier than forgetting.

Paul is describing the overarching, very human, real and dangerous struggle with sin.

            So this is the riddle that Paul built:

I want to do what is right

I know that doing what is right is good

If in my heart I want to do what is right,

Why do I do what I know I shouldn’t do, rather than what I want to do and should do?

The answer: Sin

            Sin is the age-old condition of falling out of right relationship with God. Walter Taylor writes of sin:

            When most Americans hear the word sin they think of individual acts of sinning.  While Paul can use the word that way, his basic understanding of sin is that it is a power--sin with a capital "S."  Does that Sin absolve people of responsibility?  Not at all, if we remember that in 5:12 Paul said that the individual has bought into the matrix of Sin by participating in it. 

The situation is similar to addiction.” Taylor says.  “At the beginning of the addiction, the person freely chooses to ingest the addicting substance, [or, I would add, participate in the addicting behavior] but soon that substance [or behavior] controls the individual, whose life becomes dominated by seeking the next drink or the next fix.  Thus the person has both bought into the addiction at one level, while being overwhelmed by it at another.  And so "it is the sin that dwells within me" that is in charge.”

When we truly examine ourselves, I think that we can all acknowledge that we sin. I was raised in the Catholic church, where we were expected to make regular, (and when I was little that meant weekly), personal, one-on-one confession to the priest and then do some kind of penance in order to receive forgiveness and absolution for our sins. As Lutherans our scriptural understanding, is a little different here. Martin Luther, paraphrasing Paul, said succinctly, that we simply cannot not sin. Yet we know that there is nothing that we can do – no penance or works to be done or payment to be made that can ever bring us into right relationship with God, no reparation we can make that will ever wipe away the guilt of our sins or earn our salvation and forgiveness.

My friends, confession is necessary – the human soul needs to yield to the weight of its brokenness and so, using various words each week, we begin our worship by confessing that we are truly, both together and individually, in bondage to sin, and we are utterly unable to free ourselves. We confess that it’s not just what we do or say or think that that gets us into trouble. We name ways that we fail to live as we should. Either way, we confess that we are guilty of living lives that are not truly God-centered and faithful. On our own, we confess, our brokenness leads to spiritual death, and we are hopeless in the face of our failure. We confess that Sin (with a capital “S”) has taken us captive. We ask God to release us of this prison of our own making.

In the final verse of this passage, we hear the words of assurance that all is not hopeless. To the question, “Who will rescue me from this body of death?” Paul himself supplies the answer. “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!”        

            Friends, the truth is that the good news of the Gospel of Jesus Christ shows us that through Jesus, God makes us “right” with God. God does what we on our own cannot do. Through the cross of Christ, God has answered the conundrum that burdens us because of our very human tendency toward sin. Through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ God forgives our sin. God strengthens us for relationship with one another and divine relationship with God. God makes us resurrection people, people of the Way, people who can live our lives free of the fear of sin and its place in our lives.

            In today’s gospel, Jesus invites those who believe in him into the new life that comes from being followers of the Way, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble of heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

            It is in this promise, the promise of divine rest, that Paul finds hope for the deadly dilemma that faces us when we stumble and fall. The hope Jesus holds out for us is real. It is because of this hope that sin and death have lost their hold on us.

            Today we celebrate this truth as we receive little Gabriel into the light and life of hope in Jesus through baptism. Gabriel is too young to understand the liberating joy that is ours today as he is welcomed into this Body of Christ. He is too young to appreciate the burden that is lifted from him forever, and the new life that he is granted through this sacrament. As he grows though, and as his parents, his family, and we as community embrace and teach him, we live will share with him the sure and certain hope that is the answer to Paul’s riddle; that because Christ lives in eternity for us, we, Gabriel, his parents, and all who belong to Christ rejoice in and for his sake and ours.

            So in Haiku fashion, I leave you with this riddle:

Good action eludes me

Thankful for grace

Redemption?

Through Jesus Christ.

Amen.