100%

Pentecost 9B, 7/26/15
John 6:1-21; 2 Kings 4:42-44; Ephesians 3:14-21

God, we pray that you would dwell in our hearts richly. Be with us this morning as we hear, interpret, and reflect on your holy Word. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

One of the best things I did in seminary was help organize a dinner group that met once a week throughout the school year.

Jennie, who lived on the same floor as me in our apartment building, was probably the first friend I made when I moved in to on-campus housing that first year. We decided to invite several of the other people in our building to share a weekly meal together on a rotating basis, so we all took turns hosting and cooking.

There were eight of us in the group that first semester, and we grew to ten for the second semester. We each had a cooking buddy… in part because there were several non-cookers in the group, so we could share our knowledge of cooking with one another, as well as actually sharing the meal together.

None of us had any money.

Even though most of us received financial aid and had a job of some sort, we were still living on the edge of sustainability.

One student didn’t have any furniture in her apartment except what she was able to scavenge from the on-campus housing supply. Another only had enough pots and pans and utensils to cook for one.

Either Jennie or I had to bring plates from our kitchens most weeks in order for there to be enough dishes to serve everyone.

And yet, somehow, miraculously, every week the meal was enough.

Nearly every week there were leftovers.

The pair who was cooking would go shopping and buy food in bulk so it was cheaper – a bunch of single 20-somethings would never have had a reason to shop this way just for ourselves, but with the community meals it made sense.

         We could stretch our dollars further when we spent them together.

And though our grocery budget would spike up for the one week a month we were hosting, it would plummet in the other weeks when we relied on the hospitality of others in the group for that all-important shared meal.

Every week when we met for dinner group, we re-learned the lesson that is taught in today’s Gospel reading: when you offer up what you have for the sake of the community, it will be enough.

As the disciples learned from the example of the boy offering up his lunch to share, my seminary classmates and I all learned from sharing in what the group offered up every week… even if sometimes the quality of the cooking left something to be desired.

God will bless whatever you bring to the table.

Here’s the kicker, though.

Whether you’re talking about the boy with his loaves and fish, or my friends in that dinner group, everything had to be offered up in order for God to make it into a miracle.

Jennie and I couldn’t keep our plates in the cupboard just because they were the nicest we’d ever owned and we didn’t want them to get broken. We had to offer them up for the good of the community.

That boy from the crowd didn’t keep half a loaf of bread for himself and give the rest up to the group. It would have made sense – after all, how could he be sure he’d even receive a portion of his own lunch once it started to be divided up among 5000 people? But no – he gave the whole thing to Andrew who gave it all to Jesus, and the rest is history. 

When you offer up all that you have for the work of God, it will be enough.

         God will bless whatever you bring to the table.

In the church, we talk sometimes about tithing, giving a percentage of our income to the work of God.

The most common number you hear is 10% – a tithe is when you give 10% of your income for the work of God. It turns out, though, that the Bible offers a wide range of possibilities for percentage giving.

Today’s percentage is the highest.

100%

Give it all to God.

That one boy was willing to give everything he had for the sake of Jesus’ ministry.

What would it look like if you and I tried to do the same?

I know, this isn’t something we talk about in the Lutheran church very often, but humor me here…

What would it look like if every meal we cooked, every road trip we took, every conversation we had, every cup of coffee we drank, every outfit we put on, every shower we took, every single thing we did was done as an offering to God?

Imagine what the world would look like if each one of us gave 100% to God.

I’m not just talking about money here, but all our assets – time, property, relationships, physical abilities – everything that defines us as individuals can be offered to God in the way that the boy made his offering in today’s Gospel story, when the community needed food for a meal.

After that first year living on campus, those of us in the dinner group scattered to apartments throughout the neighborhood.

Jennie and I ended up moving into an intentional community house for the next two years, where we continued to share weekly meals with our housemates, and our plates continued to be used as though they were a single set.

There were eight of us living in the community house, but only six of us had cars. So really, we had six communal cars that were used by eight different drivers.

How could we not lend our car to our housemate when it was their week to go grocery shopping?

As part of the community house, we really had to learn to be selfless. Televisions, textbooks, DVDs, silverware, laundry detergent – everything was used by the whole community for the sake of the greater good.

It wasn’t always easy – in fact, sometimes it was downright frustrating – but it was the only way that we future pastors could all live together.

Offer up everything you have for the sake of the community, hold back nothing for yourself, and then not only will God bless the community through you, but you will receive back a portion of that blessing – and the portion you receive back will be even greater than the small amount with which you started.

That boy in the Gospel story didn’t receive back his five loaves and two fish… instead he was left with 12 baskets of leftover food!

OK, the Gospel story doesn’t actually say what is done with the leftovers, but if he had wanted to claim ownership, the boy could have done so – after all, those were the leftovers from his lunch!

God’s power is unexpected.

God takes what seems to be a small offering and turns it in to something miraculous.

Through Jesus, the people experience community and grace and hospitality, but Jesus’ blessings are not just spiritual. He literally feeds them. Their most basic needs are fulfilled thanks to Jesus’ miraculous power and the generosity of one boy from the crowd. 

What might even be more amazing is the fact that this isn’t the first time God has done something like this!

In the reading from Second Kings, we hear about the prophet Elisha presiding over a similar miracle.

A man came with enough food for maybe a dozen people, and Elisha commanded him to feed it to a crowd of a hundred.

This is a little bit easier for us to grasp. We can understand what a crowd of a dozen and a crowd of a hundred looks like. I’m guessing that no one in this room has ever had to feed 5000 people in one seating!

Most of us have probably been at a meal – a family dinner or a church potluck – where it seemed at first that there wouldn’t be enough food for everyone. Nearly always, it works out… as it did in the miracle with Elisha.

As God promised, the people all got to eat, and there was food leftover.

What does it mean that our God can perform miracles like this?

We believe in a God who has the power to feed the world with almost nothing. So why is there hunger and poverty in our society? Why are there still people in the world with chronic, desperate needs?

Every week – nearly every day, honestly – people come in to this church building looking for help getting food, or gas for their cars, or assistance with rent or their electric bill.

When there are funds in the pastoral emergency account, we can help them… with some discretion, of course, trying to help a range of people and not just the same few folks every week.

When that fund is empty, as has been the case for the past several weeks, there’s nothing we can do.

But how is that possible?

Our God can feed a crowd of 5000 or more with nothing but five loaves and two fish.

How can we have nothing to offer a person in need?

In the children's sermon, we heard about how big God's love is. Well, God’s power is just as huge as God’s love. It is deeper, broader, higher and longer than we can ever imagine.

         And God’s power can make miracles out of even the smallest offering.

That’s the good news in today’s readings – that God has the power to feed hundreds or thousands of people with minimal resources.

         But that’s also the challenge in today’s readings.

         God performs those actions using the resources that we bring to the table.

God expects us to give 100%.

That is not an easy thing for any of us to do.

We like to have our personal time and our hobbies and vacations, and our emergency savings account, if we’re blessed enough to have that much money to our name.

We don’t like to come to church and hear the pastor say, “Give it all up.”

         But that is precisely the point of today’s Gospel reading.

It is intended to make us uncomfortable.

Jesus teaches us today that miracles can happen if only we trust in God to provide for us.

When we are willing to give everything we have to God – when all people can give all that they have – then we are giving God permission to change the world with that wide, deep, unimaginable power and love.

Two Sundays ago, Pastor Stephen preached a sermon with the title, “Imagine all the people.” Today’s readings lend themselves to a different line from that same John Lennon song.

         Imagine no possessions. I wonder if you can.

         No need for greed or hunger. A brotherhood of man.  

Well, I’d replace the male-dominant language there with gender-inclusive alternatives, but that wouldn’t rhyme as well, which is why John Lennon was a brilliant songwriter and I am not.

But regardless of quibbles over language, the point remains.

All that you have is not your own.

Let me say that again.

All that you have is not your own.

Whatever you have is a gift from God, and God wants you to use it to help others.

God asks us to use everything that we have for the good of the community, trusting that somehow, we will also be cared for in the great miracles that Jesus or some other prophet will perform with our time, our money, our abilities and our possessions.

Somehow, someday, by the unimaginable love and power of God, all people will be fed and all need will be erased from society.

Until then, God asks us to follow the example of the boy in today’s Gospel story.

Bring what we have to the table. Bring all that we have to the table, and freely offer it to be shared with others.

It’s not easy, but then, miracles rarely are.

May God, who has given us faith to believe these things, give us the will to follow through on them.

Amen.

Listen

Pentecost 6B, 7/5/15
Mark 6:1-13; Ezekiel 2:1-5

Lord God, we turn our eyes to you. Take away our stubbornness, show us your mercy, and open our hearts to receive your Wisdom. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Listening matters.

Listening is more than sitting in a room or across a table or in a pew while someone else talks.

Listening requires hearing what is said, believing that it could be true, trusting and honoring the speaker.

Listening isn’t passively sitting and being lectured at; listening is active. It’s a two-way street.

For example. You may have heard the term “mansplaining.”

Mansplaining is basically a word for when a man feels the need to explain something to a woman that she clearly already knows, or when a man repeats what a woman has just said – either because he wasn’t even listening to her in the first place, or to claim the idea as his own, or because sometimes people just don’t think that a comment is valuable until it comes out of the mouth of a man.

Last week, our sisters and brothers in the Episcopal Church (USA) gathered for their General Convention, the governing assembly for their entire denomination. The President of the House of Deputies, Gay Jennings, who was presiding over the convention, ran into a classic example of “mansplaining.” Someone asked a procedural question, which she answered. Then a male deputy went to a microphone and answered the same question in the same way.

Gay Jenning’s response to the man was brilliant.

She replied, “The Chair believes she just said that.”

Listening matters.

The male deputy at the Episcopal General Convention was not doing a good job of listening, and he got called out on it.

Now, I don’t actually like the term “mansplaining,” because even though I’ve seen it happen a lot, to other people and to me, I don’t think it’s fair to burden all men with the stereotype of being bad listeners.

The men in my family aren’t like that. My male friends aren’t like that.

But the phenomenon that is described by the phrase “mansplaining” – that arrogance of ignoring what is said because you don’t respect the speaker – happens all the time.

It happened to Jesus.

When he went to teach at the synagogue in his hometown, many who heard him said, “Hang on. We know this guy. We know his family. What makes him think that he can come back here and teach us about God and stuff? Who is he to tell us how to live our lives?”

And they took offense at him.  

The people couldn’t be bothered to listen to Jesus.

They refused to change their assumptions about him.

They thought they knew him, based on limited information, and so they stopped listening and started judging.

This happens all the time.

It happened in the time of Ezekiel.

God gave Ezekiel a message to pass along to the people, but God also told Ezekiel that the people were stubborn and might not listen.

At the time of Ezekiel’s ministry, Israel was in exile. The prophet was trying to tell the people that it was not God’s fault that they had been conquered and taken captive… yet if it wasn’t God’s fault, it must be someone’s fault, so that only left the people of Israel to blame for their own situation.

It’s no wonder the people might be unreceptive to that message.

They might not respect your message, God warns Ezekiel, and they might not respect the messenger. But at the very least, if the words have been spoken in their presence, they can’t claim that they have not heard.

Maybe, someday, when they reflect back on it, they’ll realize that they had, in fact, heard the words of a prophet.

Initially, the people would stop listening and start judging. Maybe eventually they would revisit Ezekiel’s words and be able to learn from them.

Or maybe not. Prophets don’t often get warm receptions when God sends them to communities that need correcting or instruction.

Ezekiel experienced that.

Jesus experienced that.

Mary Magdalene and the women who witnessed the Resurrection experienced that.

The apostle Paul experienced that.

So did Dorothy Day, and Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and Martin Luther King, Jr. and Oscar Romero, and Gay Jennings from the Episcopal Church.

All of these prophets were given a message to share with God’s people.

They were not always well received.

People would stop listening to them and start judging them instead, and in so doing, people would miss hearing the word of God.

The Bible readings give an interesting instruction for prophets, for when their hearers disrespect them.

Don’t beat your head against a brick wall.

If the people to whom you were sent are unable to respect you and the message that you bring, that’s their loss. If they won’t listen to you, shake the dust off your feet and get back on the road and find some people who will listen.

Jesus instructs the disciples to spend their time and energy on people who are willing to engage in that two-way street of listening.

Don’t waste your time on people who are so arrogant that they don’t respect you, and aren’t open to really hearing what you have to say.

Listening matters.

When you listen closely, you may just find that you are hearing the words of God through the mouth of a prophet.

When you fail to listen, you may be missing out on something amazing.

The people in Jesus’ hometown did not listen, and their loss was twofold.

Not only did they miss hearing the Word of God spoken from the mouth of the man who embodied that Word, but they also missed out on his miracles and healings.

In a way, the attentiveness of the audience can change the authority of the speaker.

For Jesus, when his audience didn’t listen, his ability to perform miracles was diminished.

For women all over the world, when a man repeats something that we’ve said because he wasn’t listening when we said it first, our authority is diminished. Our opportunities for advancement in the workplace, and our ability to be respected by society at large are put at risk or even taken away by the disrespect of our listeners.

Listening matters.

Listening is hard.

Let me share what another ELCA pastor wrote in response to today’s reading from Ezekiel:

Maybe, for me, at least, it's time to repent of my sureness, my ability to speak and listen and speak and listen and never be changed. Why am I so certain that my interpretation of Christ is more faithful than my sister or brother? Why am I always so certain I'm Ezekiel with God in my ear… and not the one to whom Ezekiel has been sent?

Maybe if I listen to hear, rather than simply to answer, I will know there has been a prophet in my presence.

(Jennifer Shimota Krushas, in the ELCA clergy Facebook group, 7/3/15)

When we listen attentively to other people, when we respect them and honor their viewpoints, it can be risky.

If someone presents us with a new point of view that we hadn’t considered before, we might have to change some of our behaviors, or our assumptions, or our entire worldview.

The disciples listened to Jesus, and they were moved to respond. They followed him, and when he asked, they went out into the world with nothing but the clothes on their back to spread his message to others.

That’s risky.

But sometimes taking extreme actions can be the result of listening well.

Maybe that’s why it’s such a hard thing for people to do.

Can you imagine what a different world we would live in if people had really listened to people like Dorothy Day, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Martin Luther King Jr, Oscar Romero, and Jesus?

If we had really taken their ideas seriously, and followed up our listening with actions, we could live in a world without hate crimes, a world with no poverty, a world with true justice and equality for all people.

I would like to live in that world.

We’re not there yet.

But we can get there.

And in order to get there, a lot of listening needs to happen.

Listening matters.

It can be risky.

And sometimes it needs to be followed up by actions that seem crazy at first but will be worth it in the end.

Today’s call to action is to listen well – don’t be like the people in Jesus’ hometown, but do be like the disciples who followed listening with actions, a changed worldview, and a new way of life.

Be open to the call of God to lead in places you never would have expected.

Be open to the Word of God coming from people you never could have imagined.

And may God, who has given us the ability to hear these things, also give us the will to listen well and follow through with actions. Amen.

Current Events

A Call to Worship
Based on current events in late June/early July 2015, and Psalm 123
For Pentecost 6B, 7/5/15

When we celebrate a Supreme Court ruling that says that all people’s love is created equal, we turn to our God.

To you, O Lord, we lift up our eyes. Show us your mercy. Bless all people.

When we grieve the senseless death of sisters and brothers, based on nothing but the color of their skin, we turn to our God.

To you, O Lord, we lift up our eyes. Show us your mercy. Bless all people.

When we see women belittled because of their sex, denied pay raises and treated disrespectfully, we turn to our God.

To you, O Lord, we lift up our eyes. Show us your mercy. Bless all people.

When we rejoice at the generosity of people, who provide housing and assistance to those who are in need, we turn to our God.

To you, O Lord, we lift up our eyes. Show us your mercy. Bless all people.