Sermon on August 22, 2010
He put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field; but while everybody was asleep, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and then went away. So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well.
For those of us who spend a weekend every spring slipping seeds into the soil, but whose thumbs are anything but green, there is perhaps something hopeful about today’s Scripture lesson. For those of us lately who have faced the prospect of being carried off by mosquitoes as we attempt to pick a few tomatoes and zucchinis from our gardens, and especially for those of us who, at this point in the summer, consider just giving our gardens up to the weeds, that there’s something encouraging in today’s parable. “Let the weeds and the wheat grow together until the harvest!” Finally some gardening advice I can live with, even if my petunias can’t.
You see the weeds in my garden have come to think of themselves as Ben’s primary crop. Many of them are second and third generation now at least, and these weed families regard the flats of marigolds I import as unwanted intruders to be surrounded and cut off from circulation. At the rate they’re growing these days, my weeds must have decided that my feeble attempts to pull them are actually part of my pruning program, a regimen I employ every month or so to help them come in stronger and more lustfully than before. So I appreciate the master’s advice—leave those weeds alone! Worry about them later! Let them grow! Strange advice, I know, but when you come to think about it, the entire thirteenth chapter of Matthew’s gospel reads like a bizarre issue of Better Homes and Gardens.
There’s a sower sowing seeds in the good soil, but also on the path, the rocky ground, and among thorns. Then there’s the mustard seed section with the tiniest seed becoming an enormous tree. And finally we have Jesus’ gardening corner where we find out that the weeds are to remain where they’re planted.
Perhaps we’re simply reminded here of something we found out in Genesis: God likes gardens. Even, apparently, problematic ones—even gardens where watering the wheat means watering the weeds as well. And by the way, we’re not just talking about any weeds here. The ancient plant Matthew refers to is called darnel. It is a weed that, as a seedling, looks a lot like wheat. And as darnel grows its roots entangle the wheat around it and these two plants become so intertwined that pulling up one will undoubtedly uproot the other. Making matters worse, darnel is poisonous.
The servants receive their master’s orders: “Let both of them grow together until the harvest.” And so all through the season they can only watch as these plants grow side by side, tangled together. Wheat and weeds.
This story is mindful of another that I first heard from Peter Gomes, a celebrated preacher and theologian. The setting was the World’s Fair during the late 19th Century. Russia arrived with a curious exhibition entitled “World Peace.” Front and center in the display was a large cage containing a wolf and a lamb, hopefully bearing witness to that prophetic vision in which the wolf and lamb lie peaceably together in the kingdom of God. Such a striking exhibit drew large crowds and finally prompted someone to ask the curator, “How do you do it?” The curator replied, “Oh, it is really very simple. We replace the lamb every morning.”
Wolves and lambs… In theory it was a good idea. In practice the pursuit of “world peace” seems to use up more lambs than wolves.
Weeds and wheat… In theory they’re to await the harvest together. In practice they do, but we know what happens. The weeds choke out the wheat. War threatens peace. Violence shatters trust. Ignorance belittles understanding. Intolerance decays community.
Intensity has grown around the decision of whether or not to build an Islamic community center and mosque near Ground Zero in New York City. A recent poll suggests that close to 68 percent of Americans object to the project. My sense has been that the weeds of mistrust and fear in this nation have been choking out the seedling of a possibility that this Islamic center could represent our country’s very best response to terrorism. It would send a message to the world that here in the United States, we refuse to be bullied and to allow a few violent extremists to cloud our judgment when it comes to the Muslim world. Moreover, I would love to be a fly on the wall in the cave when Osama Bin Laden found out that America celebrated the presence of an Islamic center in the very heart of the city he tried to destroy. But that won’t happen, I’m afraid. Those who have demonized Muslims are choking out other possibilities here. The weeds choke out the wheat.
So what are we to make of this parable where wheat and weeds live side by side at the master gardener’s insistence? Matthew provides an explanation. With the crowds gone, Jesus meets with the disciples and deciphers his parable. The sower is the Son of Man, the field is the world, the good seeds are the children of the kingdom, the weeds are the children of the evil one, the enemy is the devil, the harvest is the end, and the reapers are the angels. There you have it folks!
Personally I read this and I can’t help but think that telling the truth about a parable is sort of like telling the truth about Santa Claus. Truth may be true, but some things get lost in the explanation. And sooner or later we realize that the deepest currents of truth in our lives are ones we cannot tame.
Which puts us back in the garden, the untamed garden of our own lives. With that in mind, I’d like to make an invitation. I’d like to invite you to think of your life right now as a garden. Pretend it’s spring, and you’re the gardener standing there before the soil, and you’ve got seeds in your pockets—all kinds of seeds.
When you are kind to someone, you plant a seed—a seed of kindness. When you are patient with someone who requires patience, you plant a seed—a seed of compassion. When you encourage someone, you plant a seed of strength. When you cry with someone, you plant a seed of mercy. When you forgive someone, you plant a seed of grace.
We’ve all got these seeds, filling up our pockets—good seeds that need planting—seeds of hope and peace and light and love… And with every good thought and every good act, and with every purposeful move we make in the love of Christ, we drop another seed to the ground.
But here’s the problem. Sometimes we’re good farmers, and sometimes we’re not. Sometimes we’re the evil ones in our own gardens. And when we hurt someone, we plant a seed of unkindness. When we’re quick to point out what’s wrong, we plant seeds of despair. When we gossip, we plant seeds of separation. When we refuse to love others, we plant seeds of mistrust. When we refuse to love ourselves, we plant seeds of insecurity.
Sometimes we plant these bad seeds intentionally. A lot of times they just fall out. And so the gardens of our lives fill up with good crops and with weeds. Just like in the parable, it all grows together.
Now it’s easy in this life to get overwhelmed with the weeds. It’s easy to look at a field of thistles and just forget about planting anything new. It’s easy to read about poverty and violence and unemployment here in Racine and elsewhere and throw up our hands. But the kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field. And it doesn’t matter how many weeds there are out there—you and I are called to do something with the good seeds we’ve been given. So our task as Christians? Keep planting!
Are the weeds overwhelming? Keep planting. Is someone telling you it won’t make a difference? It will. Keep planting. Are you afraid you’ll run out of good seeds? You won’t. Keep planting. Keep planting, especially where you find weeds of hatred and greed. Work that soil and keep planting.
Think once again about your life as a garden. And I want you to bring to mind all those weedy spots in that garden—the broken relationships, the apologies that were never given, the trust that was broken, the words that have been left unsaid, the work that’s left undone, the anxiety that keeps you up at night… Picture the weeds in your garden, and then picture yourself walking right into the midst of those weeds and dropping some good seeds. Here and there, seeds of hope and possibility, willful seeds of love and grace.
Jesus said that “the kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field,” and in God’s untamed garden, those good seeds will bear much fruit. Amen.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
"The Abundance You Bring" John 6:1-14
Sermon on Sunday, August 15, 2010
One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?” Jesus said, “Make the people sit down.”
All four gospel writers tell a story about Jesus feeding massive numbers of people with just a few loaves of bread. In each version, we’re told that a large crowd was following him—that there were five thousand in all, but that this may have just been the men—that in fact, with women and children counted, there could have been more than ten thousand. Just following Jesus around the countryside.
Ten thousand… Don’t these people have anything better to do? Really, ten thousand! I mean, come on—nobody can hear Jesus, can they? The disciples aren’t carting around a portable PA system, so how many there could actually hear Jesus at one time—a few hundred at best? And for at least nine thousand of those people, not only is Jesus inaudible, but he’s also impossible to see. There’s no jumbo-tron so the folks in the back can catch a glimpse of what’s going on.
I’m trying to get a sense of what it was like to be a crowd of ten thousand people trekking through fields and mountainsides—following Jesus around, but maybe never really hearing him, maybe just barely seeing him a couple of times. And so again I’ll ask the question: Didn’t these people have anything better to do? Maybe not.
And while we’re at it, don’t you find it odd that none of them brought anything to eat? Just what were they thinking? Imagine for a moment gathering your family together to go wander around with Jesus in the countryside. You’ve got sandals on, the kids, the baby… Out the door you go for God knows how long with nothing to eat? If my wife, Karla, had been in that crowd, it would have been her child who had the five loaves of bread and the two fish because we don’t go anywhere without snacks for kids. Wallets, cell phones, toys, directions—all these things can be forgotten, but the Johnston-Krase family does not climb into the mini-van without a few boxes of raisins and some animal crackers! What about these ten thousand? No food? No snacks? Nothing?
The natural assumption to make is that the crowds who followed Jesus in the wilderness where there because Jesus’ message was so compelling—so powerful, so hopeful—that they couldn’t be kept away. We can wonder, though, if perhaps their presence may have been a sign of the times—that in actuality, the people in those crowds really didn’t have anything better to do. It had been decades—almost a hundred years—since the Roman Empire had invaded that region. No one in the crowd with Jesus could remember a day without Roman soldiers keeping an eye on things. No one knew how a Galilean economy might flourish if it weren’t for their resources being siphoned off and sent back to Rome.
A nation can only live under an oppressive foreign occupation for so long before it starts to show, and you’ve got five thousand unemployed men with no better option than to wander out into the countryside after a traveling preacher—ten thousand total, wandering around with no plans for food, no plans for tonight’s shelter… Jesus looked out at those thousands of people, and he must have seen more than hunger. He must have seen the aftereffects of political greed and distorted human power. Nation sees fit to conquer nation, and this is what’s left: hundreds upon hundreds of people with no food and no better place to go.
We have our own signs of the times today. Empires still conquering. The gap between rich and poor widens. Families throughout the world and here in Racine struggling to break cycles of poverty—unemployment, crime, substance abuse, hunger, homelessness… Environmental disasters, oil in the Gulf, pollution, global warming…
Somewhere along the line, we’re all taught that we need to do our part to help the world, but somewhere along the line, we get completely overwhelmed with it all. We look out at the thousands of issues and problems and needs in our world and wonder, “Where do I begin? How do I start? And will this even make a difference?” Add to that the fact that today more than ever, our society is so overscheduled and over-stimulated… We have so many choices to make and so many places to be at one time. It’s hard to emerge from it all with enough energy and time to tackle much of anything new.
So, friends, I’d like to create an image for us today—an image of what it might look like for you and me to follow Jesus today. (At this point in the sermon, I invited a young boy from the congregation, Meyer, to come forward. He was carrying a basket with five loaves of bread in it.) Thank you, Meyer. If you could just stand here for a few minutes, that would be great. Friends, would you like to change the world? Here’s what it looks like. Would you like to reshape the reality around you? This is what it looks like.
Now you know me well enough by now to know that I tend not to be too “formulaic” in my preaching. That being said, I’d like for us to reflect on our gospel message today and create a formula for what it means to be faithful in our lives. Ready? Here it goes. I’ve got three steps for you.
Step One: Show up in a place of need. That’s the first thing that the boy did in the story. He was there in the crowd—he showed up. You can’t do anything about anything if you don’t show up. You know this. You can’t be a good dad if you’re not home. You can’t be a good employee if you’re not at work. You can’t be a good athlete if you don’t come to practice. You’ve got to show up.
Maybe you’ve had an experience like this before. I was twenty-five when my mother was sick and when she died. At that time, a lot of people said a lot of things to me, but do you know what I remember? I remember who showed up. I don’t remember what they said. I don’t remember what they wrote in their cards. I don’t remember who sent flowers and fruit baskets. What I remember most is that they showed up. So much of being faithful to God and to others is simply showing up.
So Step One? Show up. Show up in a place of need. Don’t worry about what you’re going to do when you get there just yet. Too often we get stuck trying to figure out how we’re going to solve a problem when we haven’t even shown up yet. So just show up first. Show up in a place where there’s hunger. Show up in a place where people are dealing with homelessness. Show up where people are in need of comfort. Just show up! Be in the midst of it—whatever it is.
Step Two: Present what you have. That’s the second thing that the boy did in John’s gospel story. He presented what he had: five loaves and two fish. Notice that he didn’t present anything he didn’t have. He didn’t invite everyone to a seminar on how to survive in the wild without food. Meanwhile, he also didn’t offer a plan for overthrowing the Roman Empire. Instead, he simply presented what he had.
You have something. What is it? What do you have to offer? It could be something simple. In fact, it might not look like anything at all… at first. Think about the five loaves and the two fish that the boy had. In light of ten thousand hungry people, it was practically nothing. So friends, don’t think about what will be enough, or what’s needed. THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU HAVE.
This relates to the conversation the leadership of this church has been having lately, asking, “How has God uniquely gifted me to serve the Church at this time?” What do we have? Step Two is present what you have. Your gift. Your interest. Your passion. Even your willingness to see something through. Present what you have.
Step Three: This one’s going to be the hardest for us, I think. I know that this one is the hardest for me. Trust Jesus. Show up. Present what you have. And then trust Jesus. The boy showed up. He was there. And he presented what he had. He handed over his bread and his fish—a gracious act, by the way, since he wasn’t sure how much of that food he and his family would get back. And then something happened. Jesus took over and multiplied the food.
I think that the reason we get overwhelmed and stuck when we try to solve problems in our world is because we expect too much of ourselves and not enough from God. And when we don’t expect enough from God, we measure our potential solely on the basis of our own skill. We forget that we worship a God who multiplies our gifts, multiplies our talents, multiplies our efforts.
I read this story recently. A young boy was taking piano lessons. As a treat, his mother took him to hear a concert pianist. As they made their way to their seats, the boy spotted the piano on stage and slipped away from his Mom. The mother sat down and was horrified to see her son sitting at the Steinway grand piano on stage. The crowd laughed nervously as he began to play “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” When the boy realized there was a huge crowd listening to him he became nervous and started missing notes.
At that moment, the concert pianist entered the stage. He whispered in the boy’s ear, “Keep playing. We will play together.” He reached over and began playing running harmonies on either side of the boy’s one fingered Twinkle Twinkle. Everyone, including the boy, was entranced, and at the end of the song, they leapt to their feet with applause.
Friends, on our own, what we have is never enough to do it all. But we are never alone! In some form or fashion, Jesus will always play alongside of us. When we trust Jesus with that which we have, we realize that we’ve brought an abundance to the table!
The problems in our world today are different than the once that faced our faith ancestors. Poverty, though, is still poverty. Hunger is still hunger. Hopelessness is still hopelessness. So in the days ahead, may we act with strength and with courage.
Show up.
Present what you have.
Trust Jesus.
With God actively multiplying our gifts, we do bring an abundance to the world!
Amen.
One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?” Jesus said, “Make the people sit down.”
All four gospel writers tell a story about Jesus feeding massive numbers of people with just a few loaves of bread. In each version, we’re told that a large crowd was following him—that there were five thousand in all, but that this may have just been the men—that in fact, with women and children counted, there could have been more than ten thousand. Just following Jesus around the countryside.
Ten thousand… Don’t these people have anything better to do? Really, ten thousand! I mean, come on—nobody can hear Jesus, can they? The disciples aren’t carting around a portable PA system, so how many there could actually hear Jesus at one time—a few hundred at best? And for at least nine thousand of those people, not only is Jesus inaudible, but he’s also impossible to see. There’s no jumbo-tron so the folks in the back can catch a glimpse of what’s going on.
I’m trying to get a sense of what it was like to be a crowd of ten thousand people trekking through fields and mountainsides—following Jesus around, but maybe never really hearing him, maybe just barely seeing him a couple of times. And so again I’ll ask the question: Didn’t these people have anything better to do? Maybe not.
And while we’re at it, don’t you find it odd that none of them brought anything to eat? Just what were they thinking? Imagine for a moment gathering your family together to go wander around with Jesus in the countryside. You’ve got sandals on, the kids, the baby… Out the door you go for God knows how long with nothing to eat? If my wife, Karla, had been in that crowd, it would have been her child who had the five loaves of bread and the two fish because we don’t go anywhere without snacks for kids. Wallets, cell phones, toys, directions—all these things can be forgotten, but the Johnston-Krase family does not climb into the mini-van without a few boxes of raisins and some animal crackers! What about these ten thousand? No food? No snacks? Nothing?
The natural assumption to make is that the crowds who followed Jesus in the wilderness where there because Jesus’ message was so compelling—so powerful, so hopeful—that they couldn’t be kept away. We can wonder, though, if perhaps their presence may have been a sign of the times—that in actuality, the people in those crowds really didn’t have anything better to do. It had been decades—almost a hundred years—since the Roman Empire had invaded that region. No one in the crowd with Jesus could remember a day without Roman soldiers keeping an eye on things. No one knew how a Galilean economy might flourish if it weren’t for their resources being siphoned off and sent back to Rome.
A nation can only live under an oppressive foreign occupation for so long before it starts to show, and you’ve got five thousand unemployed men with no better option than to wander out into the countryside after a traveling preacher—ten thousand total, wandering around with no plans for food, no plans for tonight’s shelter… Jesus looked out at those thousands of people, and he must have seen more than hunger. He must have seen the aftereffects of political greed and distorted human power. Nation sees fit to conquer nation, and this is what’s left: hundreds upon hundreds of people with no food and no better place to go.
We have our own signs of the times today. Empires still conquering. The gap between rich and poor widens. Families throughout the world and here in Racine struggling to break cycles of poverty—unemployment, crime, substance abuse, hunger, homelessness… Environmental disasters, oil in the Gulf, pollution, global warming…
Somewhere along the line, we’re all taught that we need to do our part to help the world, but somewhere along the line, we get completely overwhelmed with it all. We look out at the thousands of issues and problems and needs in our world and wonder, “Where do I begin? How do I start? And will this even make a difference?” Add to that the fact that today more than ever, our society is so overscheduled and over-stimulated… We have so many choices to make and so many places to be at one time. It’s hard to emerge from it all with enough energy and time to tackle much of anything new.
So, friends, I’d like to create an image for us today—an image of what it might look like for you and me to follow Jesus today. (At this point in the sermon, I invited a young boy from the congregation, Meyer, to come forward. He was carrying a basket with five loaves of bread in it.) Thank you, Meyer. If you could just stand here for a few minutes, that would be great. Friends, would you like to change the world? Here’s what it looks like. Would you like to reshape the reality around you? This is what it looks like.
Now you know me well enough by now to know that I tend not to be too “formulaic” in my preaching. That being said, I’d like for us to reflect on our gospel message today and create a formula for what it means to be faithful in our lives. Ready? Here it goes. I’ve got three steps for you.
Step One: Show up in a place of need. That’s the first thing that the boy did in the story. He was there in the crowd—he showed up. You can’t do anything about anything if you don’t show up. You know this. You can’t be a good dad if you’re not home. You can’t be a good employee if you’re not at work. You can’t be a good athlete if you don’t come to practice. You’ve got to show up.
Maybe you’ve had an experience like this before. I was twenty-five when my mother was sick and when she died. At that time, a lot of people said a lot of things to me, but do you know what I remember? I remember who showed up. I don’t remember what they said. I don’t remember what they wrote in their cards. I don’t remember who sent flowers and fruit baskets. What I remember most is that they showed up. So much of being faithful to God and to others is simply showing up.
So Step One? Show up. Show up in a place of need. Don’t worry about what you’re going to do when you get there just yet. Too often we get stuck trying to figure out how we’re going to solve a problem when we haven’t even shown up yet. So just show up first. Show up in a place where there’s hunger. Show up in a place where people are dealing with homelessness. Show up where people are in need of comfort. Just show up! Be in the midst of it—whatever it is.
Step Two: Present what you have. That’s the second thing that the boy did in John’s gospel story. He presented what he had: five loaves and two fish. Notice that he didn’t present anything he didn’t have. He didn’t invite everyone to a seminar on how to survive in the wild without food. Meanwhile, he also didn’t offer a plan for overthrowing the Roman Empire. Instead, he simply presented what he had.
You have something. What is it? What do you have to offer? It could be something simple. In fact, it might not look like anything at all… at first. Think about the five loaves and the two fish that the boy had. In light of ten thousand hungry people, it was practically nothing. So friends, don’t think about what will be enough, or what’s needed. THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU HAVE.
This relates to the conversation the leadership of this church has been having lately, asking, “How has God uniquely gifted me to serve the Church at this time?” What do we have? Step Two is present what you have. Your gift. Your interest. Your passion. Even your willingness to see something through. Present what you have.
Step Three: This one’s going to be the hardest for us, I think. I know that this one is the hardest for me. Trust Jesus. Show up. Present what you have. And then trust Jesus. The boy showed up. He was there. And he presented what he had. He handed over his bread and his fish—a gracious act, by the way, since he wasn’t sure how much of that food he and his family would get back. And then something happened. Jesus took over and multiplied the food.
I think that the reason we get overwhelmed and stuck when we try to solve problems in our world is because we expect too much of ourselves and not enough from God. And when we don’t expect enough from God, we measure our potential solely on the basis of our own skill. We forget that we worship a God who multiplies our gifts, multiplies our talents, multiplies our efforts.
I read this story recently. A young boy was taking piano lessons. As a treat, his mother took him to hear a concert pianist. As they made their way to their seats, the boy spotted the piano on stage and slipped away from his Mom. The mother sat down and was horrified to see her son sitting at the Steinway grand piano on stage. The crowd laughed nervously as he began to play “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” When the boy realized there was a huge crowd listening to him he became nervous and started missing notes.
At that moment, the concert pianist entered the stage. He whispered in the boy’s ear, “Keep playing. We will play together.” He reached over and began playing running harmonies on either side of the boy’s one fingered Twinkle Twinkle. Everyone, including the boy, was entranced, and at the end of the song, they leapt to their feet with applause.
Friends, on our own, what we have is never enough to do it all. But we are never alone! In some form or fashion, Jesus will always play alongside of us. When we trust Jesus with that which we have, we realize that we’ve brought an abundance to the table!
The problems in our world today are different than the once that faced our faith ancestors. Poverty, though, is still poverty. Hunger is still hunger. Hopelessness is still hopelessness. So in the days ahead, may we act with strength and with courage.
Show up.
Present what you have.
Trust Jesus.
With God actively multiplying our gifts, we do bring an abundance to the world!
Amen.
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