Grace and Peace from Jesus to you all today!
In God there is more than enough—not just for you and me, but—for everyone! But there’s more… First, let me say it another way: In a world where things run out—famine, drought, flood, poverty (unequal distribution of wealth and resources)—Jesus, the Bread of Life, is providing; he is here with us providing what we need. The story starts with Jesus and his disciples trying to hide away a bit from the crowds. Jesus has been among the people, healing and helping those who were sick. Now he takes his crew across the sea and heads up a mountain to sit down for a bit. As soon as they get settled, the story moves right along. They look up, and—Woah!—a large crowd is headed their way. Why is this crowd so big? John mentions that the Jewish festival, Passover, is near; maybe there are extra people headed to the area to go to temple on Passover—or maybe that’s what they’ll be discussing when they all sit down together. But also, “a large crowd kept following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing for the sick.” These are people in need of something. Jesus has what the people need to feel like they are whole again. Sometimes we feel like what we have, what we are isn’t enough. For the people around Jesus who are sick, or hurt, or the like…they find that Jesus gives something that makes them enough again, makes them have value in the world—what he gives them is his kingdom; he lets them into his kingdom. Anyway, so the crowd is coming and Jesus looks at one of his disciples, Philip. Philip must have been the one in charge of food runs or something—You know, how everyone has their own area, their own job in the class—this must have been Philip’s. “Philip, where are we going to get food for all these people?” Philip probably checks with the class treasurer, Judas, then does some calculations (5000 sandwiches, plus 12 for us, oh, and a few bags of chips…) “Um, Jesus, we don’t have enough money for that—not if we worked for 6 months.” As far as they’re concerned, they’ve got nothin’. But here comes Andrew, he’s a problem solver. “I found 5 loaves and 2 fish!” Then he says those words, “But what are they among so many people?” OH! Those words! They ring with significance from 2nd kings, where there is a huge famine in the land but this one guy comes with an offering to the “man of God”, the prophet Elisha—this guy from Baal-shalisha, the City of Giants! (which is San Francisco if you’re into baseball, or New York for football I think.)—he comes with a bit of food—but not enough for the 100 people it’s meant to feed—for the church staff and volunteers. So what do you tell him? “Thanks for your offering, but it’s not really enough.”? Do you ever wonder if what you have to offer is enough? Does it even make any difference anyway? There are a bunch of people out there who can make a big difference in the world. There are people with so much more money to give to help people—makes my little bit look like nothing. There are people with so much more time or energy, people more talented than I am. There are so many churches that are larger, more exciting, bigger budgets… But us…but me and what I have…what is that among so many? So here’s Andrew: some loaves, a couple fish…but what is that among so many? In Ephesians today we read this: “[God,] by the power at work within us[,] is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine…” “By the power at work within us, [God] is able to accomplish abundantly FAR more than all we can ask or imagine.” Jesus is about to show what that is among so many. What’s that expression now, before you’re about to do something big? Is it still, “hold my beer”? Jesus said—have them sit down. Then he does something amazing, something that puts every one of those people present right into the inbreaking kingdom of God. Just like when he healed all those people before, setting them free, making them whole and valuable—he brought his kingdom to everyone in that multitude. And in Jesus’ kingdom, he takes that question of “is there enough”, or “am I enough?” and blows it out of the water! When I think of the world economy that I experience in my own life, it doesn’t even come close to this picture we see of Jesus today feeding the multitude. He offers this bread, not to anyone based on how hard they work or arbitrary measure of worthiness, but freely and to all. And it’s not just literal carbohydrate rich bread that he offers—rather he offers himself, he offers everything one needs for abundant life. He even takes it to death on a cross when the world around him resists his message. And God’s answer to that: Jesus lives again! His kingdom WILL come, IS coming—and it will not be stopped. That’s the Good News! Now, even as I say that I had that question—"How does one find, how does one see this gospel active in the world?” Then it hits me—we say it at the end of the service. “You are the body of Christ”. It’s through us! Jesus is at work, bringing his kingdom in which there is abundance, in which you have so much worth, in which your gifts, your skills, your abilities are indeed “enough” and so much more than just “enough.” Now: What if that abundance was something we were meant to enact as Jesus’ body in the world? What if Jesus doesn’t invite us to a “just-wait-until” kingdom? What if Jesus invites us to a kingdom that takes root, right now? That would have some spectacular consequences on our lives! For how we live, for what we expect from the world and from ourselves, it’d affect how we vote, how we structure society, how we give…amazing transformation in our lives, in the world right now! These texts aren’t just some religious stories meant to make us know about God or make some cognitive assent that secures afterlife salvation or what-have-you. This is the life changing, world transforming, Word of God we are encountering today! In God there is enough—YOU are enough! Jesus, the Bread of Life, gives himself for you; he is here, making us his body, sharing his kingdom with the world. Grace and Peace to you in the name of Jesus.
Our message in our scriptures today tell of Jesus, the shepherd who is king forever, full of righteousness and who leads with justice. Jesus is the shepherd who gathers the scattered flock; heals them, feeds them, and gives them rest. “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while” (Mark 6:31) That sounds lovely, doesn’t it? Let’s start with Jeremiah. Do you know about the prophet Jeremiah? Jeremiah was Prophet for the last 5 kings of Judah. Here in beginning of chapter 23 we hear a pretty good summary of his core message. Now, he was living during a time when God’s people were not taking their responsibility as God’s chosen people very seriously. In fact, they were hardly worshiping God at all according to some of Jeremiah’s depictions. And, at his time, there were other nations rising up and vying for superpower positions—Babylon to be specific. So then, what happens to a tiny little nation, no longer living into their mission and purpose in the world, when a big bad superpower comes to expand their empire? In this case? Exile. They are literally scattered—deported, enslaved, spread over Babylon, unable to identify, worship, and live as God’s collection of people, who are meant to be a light to the nations. This event of Exile defines the people of God. Historically speaking, it is the moment that prompted all the stories of scripture to be written down—to preserve them when they could not be told. Because of that, all the stories before the exile, lead up to it. And everything after, including the promises and prophecies of God’s deliverance, are shaped by Exile and look toward the future when God will re-gather God’s people. Jesus comes into the picture, into the world of God’s people defined by Exile. In Mark’s gospel lesson of today, it is no coincidence that Jesus sees the great crowd and has compassion for them because they “were like sheep without a shepherd.” He, himself, is the final fulfillment of Jeremiah’s prophecy of hope, that “God raise up for David a righteous Branch, and he shall reign as king and deal wisely, and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land…” More about that in a moment… First, let’s talk about exile and new creation, exile and re-gathering. The book of Jeremiah is about Exile and Re-gathering—he prophesied, and actually lived through himself, the coming of Babylon to scatter what was left of God’s people, the southern kingdom of Judah. But Exile is not just a 587 BCE event; it is a description, a metaphor, also of how things are, how we as humans exist in the world. We live in an already/not-yet world where sin and disorder touch every aspect of our lives, yet we know that Jesus is already at work gathering the world to himself, building his kingdom here—a kingdom that is forever in all senses of the word. While we know the kind of world God has in mind, and we know that we are headed there, we still live in the anticipation of that world being realized. Life is in a kind of exile while we meander in and out, toward the realized kingdom of God. God created the world with limitless potential and abundance. God gave orders to all of it to “be fruitful and multiply”—you know those words? From Genesis 1? And we, humans, were to be a part of tending to things and making that happen. Well, right away we know, if not from our own lives then from the story in Genesis two and three, that humans own plans and designs tend down a path away from fruitful and multiply: toward divide and scatter. The humans get Exiled from Eden. And the whole story that follows is how we deal with that exile and look toward the one through whom God will bring us back , as in Jeremiah’s words, “I myself will gather the remnant of my flock to their fold, and they shall be fruitful and multiply.” That’s in Jeremiah! Genesis 1 language “fruitful and multiply”. Language of new creation! That’s the thing about God…no matter what calamity or exile we face, there is that promise. That God will gather up the remnant of us, gather up all our broken pieces, pick you up when you crumble, God will bring you in, and make new life of it all. That’s Jesus’ promise, that’s the kingdom he’s building. We’ve been scattered in a very real way recently. Over the last year-and-a-half, the pandemic has exiled us from our houses of worship, from our families and friends, from normal economics. We were cast out of our happy habits and thrown unprepared into a place of exile—but also a place where we were still called to be God’s light, still called to spread Jesus’ message to those people we could when normal was taken away. Then, vaccines started rolling out, we began to get things under control in this part of the world, and we started seeing that glimmer of hope. We started to see the promise of re-gathering. And we are still working through that act of re-gathering. That’s precisely where today’s Gospel lesson enters the story—that promise is beginning. Jesus, right at the beginning of our story today is re-gathering his disciples, the apostles. They come back after being sent out on their own, totally unprepared: “no staff, no bag, no bread, no money.” (Mark 6:8). That’s much the way we’ve been sent out these past 16 months. Sent out, out of touch with how we normally gather, to be the scattered and sent church in the world. And as excited as those apostles were to come back, gather together and around Jesus, just as are we, they were a bit exhausted. I don’t know if any of you feel the same. The first thing Jesus does is—part of that kingdom he’s building, that act of new creation and re-gathering, is—to listen to their stories—"they told him all that they had done and taught.” Gathering a people, forming a new creation, making a kingdom, involves hearing/listening to one another. We might take a page from his book: not at this moment, but maybe at coffee afterward, or by another means later, answer and talk about these things: During pandemic: what did you lament, what did you miss? What scripture held you? What did you see that you really need to tell Jesus about? “They told him…” Then, the very next thing—is he sends them away to rest. He starts providing for their needs. Gives them REST, The Lord makes me lie down in green pastures, then (part of the verses our gospel skipped today) he FEEDS a multitude, You prepare a table before me then HEALS, not sure which line of the psalm that one is, BUT he’s being the prophesied Shepherd! Jeremiah, and Jesus, they’re with the same people, talking to a people who are scattered, exiled. They’re talking to humans, in need of a shepherd, because left to ourselves we eat the forbidden fruit, we let injustice run rampant (that was Jeremiah’s biggest critique). We trod the path away from fruitful and multiply toward divide and scatter. And that’s why God doesn’t leave us to ourselves. Jesus is here. Jesus is with us. He entered the story as the shepherd we need, and he is present leading, guiding, building us back to his kingdom, leading us down right pathways for his names sake. He doesn’t magically take away the Exile we throw ourselves into. But he comes and meets us there. Gives us strength (and rest), gives us community, feeds us with himself, and heals us by his blood. The words of Jeremiah provide us that vision of HOPE. That God will not leave God’s people to their own devices, but that a future does remain. A Shepherd will come, and God’s people will come together again to be what they were meant to be. The shepherd is Jesus. And his message is to follow him, and live in the kingdom now! Which, today, leads us to that prayer we prayed as we began hearing the Word, O God, powerful and compassionate, you shepherd your people, faithfully feeding and protecting us. Heal each of us, and make us a whole people, that we may embody the justice and peace of your Son Jesus, that we may reach out to share Christ, our Savior and Lord, with all. Amen. Grace and peace to you from God the Father, and our Lord Jesus Christ.
We know a thing or two about storms and rough seas right now, don’t we? We are still riding in some turbulent waters from this pandemic, even as the storm, at least for us in our area, seems to be blowing itself out. In our gospel today, Mark notes that when the disciples took Jesus out, just as he was, to sea, there were other boats with them. There were many boats facing that storm. We get a look into just one of those boats in the story. We get to see this disciples’ reaction, to sense their fear, panic, their feeling helpless and hopeless, sure they would not make it through, that they would perish. I wonder about the other boats. The sea of Galilee is apparently well known for its storms. They spring up out of nowhere and can be really quite dreadful. It might be said that experienced fishermen, such as many of the disciple, would know whether or not they’re in trouble. Even so, the same storm can have a very effect depending on where you’re situated—or what boat you’re in. Early on in the pandemic, my colleague groups, synod meetings and such, would meet periodically so that we could talk together about strategies, or maybe coping mechanisms—sharing ideas to navigate the new territory we were finding ourselves in. One of the questions that became regular as a check in and to get conversations started came from this idea that there are many boats in this storm. We’d start by asking each other: what boat are you in today? And we’d have three options presented to us, three pictures, actually. The first a kayak—journeying pleasantly in a serene lake. The second a mid-sized boat, maybe a fishing boat, caught in some rough water and electric sky. Or maybe it was a raft in the rapids, with a boatful of people furiously paddling their way. The third option was this huge, rusty looking old maritime vessel—lop-sided—clearly going nowhere because it was beached up on the sand. What boat are you in? We’re all in the same storm, but not all in the same boat. Some people would pick the kayak early on, because they suddenly found themselves locked out of their normal routine, and at home with a kind of forced rest or sabbath. I never picked that one…for me the kids at home was more like the second, very busy boat. But there is something about the storm that changes our perspective and lets us see the world in a new light. In Mark’s gospel, Jesus is coming from parable after parable about sowing seeds. He is laying the groundwork of describing how people will react to the Kingdom of God being revealed. He is showing that the gospel and the kingdom will surely be coming and will grow and spread in surprising and even undermining ways. The storm the disciples face is a place to reveal something new—to see behind the curtain in a sense—or to see a thing from a new perspective, from God’s perspective. We call that apocalyptic. Now apocalypse, when we’re talking about the Bible, means something very different than when we say apocalypse in English. Apocalypse (it’s Greek), means to uncover, or to reveal. So Paul has an apocalypse on the way to Damascus (Jesus reveals himself as the one Saul is persecuting), an Apocalypse happens at Jesus’ baptism when the Spirit descends like a dove and the voice from heaven reveals, “this is my son.” And the storm scene in this gospel acts as an apocalypse, where Jesus is revealed as the one whom the storms and the sea obey (as in Job): 8“Or who shut in the sea with doors when it burst out from the womb?-- 9when I made the clouds its garment, and thick darkness its swaddling band, 10and prescribed bounds for it, and set bars and doors, 11and said, ‘Thus far shall you come, and no farther, and here shall your proud waves be stopped’?” Of course the disciples, slow learners as they are, only make it as far as questioning in confusion “who is this?” They’ll get it by the end of the gospel. Storms like this are often a time when we are given opportunity for a perspective change. They also are times when we react the three ways that people do in Mark’s gospel—questioning confusion, repentance and joyful acceptance of the gospel message, or rejection of the kingdom Jesus brings. During this pandemic, and many times throughout, the curtain has been pulled back on some of the ways we take our world for granted. We saw some pieces of society or of our church, with a different set of eyes and had to work through what that means for us. We will surely be learning for years to come as we analyze and pray about what we saw as church during a time of distancing, of division in society, and of trying to get back on our feet. I believe there have been many times when God has sought to show us some things a little more clearly as we had time to think and restart. And I know that we, like those disciples, will have a healthy mix of confusion, repentance, and denial about those things. Probably all at one, mixed together in each of us. I still think God is doing something big in the church, something that we are part of right here. Through changing trends in worship attendance, shortage of pastors, cultural shifts that make the ways things always were less effective, then by way of a global pandemic that stopped us all in our tracks to reassess and examine ourselves—the storm has been set. But I wonder about that “peace be still” moment. In Mark’s gospel, Jesus’ calming the storm was not just another miracle. It was a revelation, an apocalypse. The storm became the way to see that the kingdom of God was coming, and to see that it is Jesus through whom it comes. The “peace be still” moment may not come as a reset to the way things were. What if it doesn’t calm the chaos of the world outside? The “peace be still” moment rather may be a change on the chaos in ourselves. What if it becomes a way to see with new eyes the world around us, to see what God is up to there, and where we are being called to join the kingdom? Where might we be in a storm searching for the way forward into the kingdom? Where might the winds and waves be now at work to upend and rock our systems, to make way for the new kingdom that Jesus is working in us to establish? These storms are not easy to face. The disciples knew the danger and were scared. But we know the end of the story… Through death comes life. Jesus is risen. Through Jesus comes God’s kingdom. And he works in us. Life, love, peace…these are the promises that hold us through all the storms. They allow us to sing, in any situation, “it is well with my soul.” “God has won, Christ prevailed, it is well with my soul.” We’re all in a storm, maybe lots of storms, but not all in the same boat. How do we see people in other boats and show them what we’ve learned about the Jesus in ours? Jesus who loves us. Jesus who came to heal the world, to cast out demons, to calm the storms in us. Jesus who is always in our boat, always there to show us again who he is—the LORD of heaven and earth. Lord Jesus pilot us, preserve us, instruct us, and protect us. And we can sing “It is well with my soul.” |
AuthorRev. Chris Sesvold is currently the pastor at Halfway Creek Lutheran Church (ELCA) in Holmen, WI. Archives
October 2021
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