Sermon; Proper 19A; Matt. 18:21-35

Last week we heard Jesus lay out specific steps in a forgiveness process. This week the forgiveness discussion continues when Peter asks, “If another member of the Church sins against me, how often should I forgive? Seven times?”

Jesus responds, “Not seven times, but seventy-seven times.”

I need to point out that some translations render this as, “If my BROTHER sins against me . . .” which puts a more personal spin on this. I'm sure that Peter was the older brother and was asking Jesus how many times he needed to forgive Andrew when he was being a jerk. Other translations, like the one we heard today, replace brother with “member of the Church,” thereby focusing on how we live in community with each other.

But whether we're dealing with a family member, a member of our congregation, a friend, a coworker, or an acquaintance, we're still dealing with sin and forgiveness. Three of our four readings today deal with this topic.

The reading from Genesis is the climactic ending to the story of Joseph and his brothers. Spared from death by Reuben at the hands of his brothers, Joseph gets sold into slavery. In his new life, he eventually rises to become the second most powerful man in Egypt. Because of a famine, the brothers go looking for food, encounter their long-lost brother, and are terrified that he's going to take revenge on them. But Joseph is able to forgive them and save them from the famine.

Psalm 103 is a psalm of praise to the Lord for the power of forgiveness, and it recognizes that God is fundamentally forgiving.

And today's gospel gives us one of the best known parables about forgiveness.

Forgiveness is a major part of today's readings. Forgiveness is a major part of our faith. And, because there are no coincidences, it's no accident that we get these readings during the time of 9/11.

With that in mind, there are two aspects about forgiveness that I want to address. The first is a story Mtr. Ann told at last week's Wednesday Night BBQ. She said it came from a Methodist pastor and it goes something like this (with a few modifications by me):

A priest noticed a parishioner seemed to be troubled and was walking slowly as if she was carrying a heavy burden. “What's the matter?” the priest asked.

"A friend has hurt me deeply,” she said.

The priest said, “Did your friend hurt you this much?” and picked up a large rock.

“No,” she said. Then she picked up a much larger rock and said, “This much.”

“Carry that large rock and try to walk with graceful steps and poise,” said the priest.

She tried to walk with the large rock, but staggered and struggled.

The priest said, “At first your friend hurt you, but now it is the stone that is hurting you. The stone is your judgment of how much your friend hurt you. Now put down the rock. That is forgiveness – putting down the burden. You are still hurt, but you no longer carry the burden with you.”

She put the stone down and said, “I understand – if I forgive my friend for hurting me, then I will have set the rock down and will be free.”

“Not yet,” said the priest. “You will not be truly free until you have set it down seventy-seven times and no longer wish to pick it up.”

Sometimes we want to pick up the stone of hurt even after we have forgiven someone because it reminds us of how we were treated and it gives us permission to live with that hurt. It may be that it's only after seventy-seven times of forgiving that we no longer dwell on how we were injured.

The second is a recognition that forcing the injured to forgive without requiring accountability, reparation, restitution, or a change of behavior by the perpetrator can lead to continued oppression. If we require a person who has been harmed to “forgive and forget,” or “forgive and move on” while allowing perpetrators to retain wealth, status, power, positions of authority, etc., it is no longer forgiveness. It becomes a demand on the vulnerable to comfort the perpetrator. Think of any number of church scandals where clergy or other leaders kept their positions while those they harmed were forced to remain in their presence or leave the church.

Forced forgiveness from the injured without accountability by the sinner is just another form of abuse. Confession without repentance, without a change in behavior, is just a series of empty words.

When we forgive, it must be of our own free will and not forced upon us. When we forgive, it is for our own mental and spiritual well-being, recognizing that we can't continue to carry that hurt, that rock, around. And if we are the ones who threw the rock, who sinned against another, we need to be willing to confess our sin with a willingness to repent – change our behavior, and make atonement and reparations if necessary.

Confession, repentance, and forgiveness don't always go hand in hand. Sometimes we confess our wrongdoing without ever receiving forgiveness. Sometimes we forgive another without them ever changing. But when confession and repentance work together, it's a beautiful thing.

Regardless of the other person, are there stones in your life that you need to put down?

Amen.

Sermon; Proper 18A; Matthew 18:15-20

The gospel story of Jesus is all about God doing a new thing. In Matthew and Luke we hear the story of the Incarnation – God coming to live among us as a human. But God did not come in the form of a warrior king with power and might; instead, God came in the form of a vulnerable baby, weak, needing the parental care of Mary & Joseph, and eventually growing up into the man known as Jesus. And as we read through Matthew about the life of Jesus we hear stories of temptation, healing, teaching, calls, and conflicts. Then we get to Chapter 13 where Jesus begins to do something new – he begins teaching in parables, specifically parables about the kingdom of heaven.

The parables lay the groundwork for showing what the kingdom of heaven is like AND that the kingdom of heaven is here among us if we open our eyes and hearts. These kingdom parables and the things that follow are focused on the new community Jesus is trying to establish. From ensuring everyone is fed and cared for to remembering that we'll sink without Jesus with us to paying attention to what spews from our mouths, Jesus is showing us what this new community can and should be.

But as we saw last week, following Christ and working to establish this new kingdom isn't without difficulties. Jesus himself said he would be put to death, to which Peter objected and the stone on which the Church would be built became a stumbling block to Jesus. We were told that we must take up our cross if we were to become his followers. And we were reminded that if we are to follow Christ then we must FOLLOW him to where he leads and not try to lead him to where we want him to go.

At the beginning of Chapter 18 the disciples want to know who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. In response, Jesus brings a child into the circle and says, “Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest, and whoever welcomes a child in my name welcomes me.” He goes on to tell his disciples not to despise the little ones and then he tells the story of the shepherd going off to find the lone lost sheep and that it is God's will to not lose a single little one.

This all leads into today's gospel passage where Jesus is talking about sin and reconciliation.

For all of our talk about loving our neighbors, living in community, being part of the body of Christ with him as our sure foundation, the truth is that we still exhibit very human traits and behaviors. We tend to place our own wants before our neighbors' needs. Community is there for what we can get out of it. We too easily remove people not like us. Greed, lust, envy, and other sinful acts destroy foundational principles. Church, unfortunately, is not always apple pie, ice cream, and smooth sailing.

Knowing that things in community can get messy, Jesus gives us a process for reconciliation. It is persistent. It is time consuming. And it follows specific steps.

If a member of the Church sins against you, meet with them in private to explain how you have been hurt. If they refuse to acknowledge their part, take witnesses. If that doesn't work, bring it to the church body. And if THAT doesn't work, treat them as a Gentile and tax collector.

These are hard things to do. It's hard to confront someone. It's hard to remain calm and be a non-anxious presence. It's hard to work toward reconciliation. It's hard to continue being in the presence of one who sinned against you. It's hard for us to work through a process that is focused on restoration and not revenge.

This process is what the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of South Africa, which was led by Abp. Desmond Tutu, did. They focused on restoration, reparations, and restorative justice, not revenge. That takes hard work. It requires one party to acknowledge their sin and then want to repair the damage, and it requires the other party to refrain from focusing on revenge.

But if, in the end, there can be no reconciliation, no restoration, then we are to treat the offender as a Gentile and tax collector. Which, on its surface, means that we are to treat them as outsiders and traitors, as people we shouldn't associate with.

In today's gospel Jesus gives us a blueprint for handling conflict in the Church. In an ideal world this would work every time. But we don't live in an ideal world and we aren't ideal people. We get blinded by pride. We think admitting errors and sin is weak. We hate confrontation, so we just let it drop. It would seem that treating them as Gentiles and tax collectors, as outsiders whom we should ignore, might be the way to go.

But on closer examination that's not the case. Earlier in this chapter Jesus talked about welcoming the little ones. This could refer to children, but it could also refer to people new to the faith. So it has a double meaning: little ones in body and little ones in spirit. Both of these people have been considered outsiders and both have been pushed out and/or ignored . . . like Gentiles and tax collectors.

If we think of the Gentiles and tax collectors like little ones or the sheep that went astray, then we can follow Jesus' example and reach out to them, offering them a new community in which to live.

This isn't just Jesus doing some new fangled thing by working to include outsiders and not giving up on them. This is a God thing as well. We heard it in the reading from Ezekiel: As I live, says the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from their ways and live.

To treat a person as a Gentile or tax collector is to leave the door open. It's to remind them that there is a place for them in this new community of Christ. It's to welcome them as an equal partner on this journey of discipleship. It's to sit with them and eat with them. It's to recognize that they are created in the image of God just as we have been created in the image of God.

We may not be able to follow through on these steps of reconciliation. We may have difficulty with people who have sinned against us – sometimes rightfully so. We may harbor hurt feelings and be wary around their presence. Life is messy and not always easy. But one thing we should be able to do is to leave the door open to possibilities. We should be willing to leave the door open to God doing a new thing.

And maybe being willing to leave the door open for God to do a new thing is the most important thing we can do.

Amen.

Sermon; Proper 16A; Matt. 16:13-20

For the past several weeks we have been learning about the new community Jesus is trying to establish. We've heard kingdom parables telling us the Kingdom of Heaven is very near, that it can make big changes with big results, and that it offers unexpected joy. We have seen how, when we live into God's abundance, everyone has a place and everyone is cared for. We have learned that following Christ won't save us from storms, but with Christ in our midst we will be kept from drowning. And we have learned that outside forces – be they foreigners, women, sexuality, other religions, trans people, or breaking long-held traditions – can't contaminate us, but that what contaminates us are evil thoughts, words, and actions that spew forth from us.

Everything Jesus has taught and shown, everything we have learned up to this point, all comes to a focal point in today's gospel passage. After everything from the parables to the Canaanite woman, Jesus asks the disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” What comes is a flurry of answers – everything from a reanimated John the Baptist to the return of a great prophet.

Okay . . . okay . . . “But who do YOU say I am?” These two questions – “Who do people say Jesus is?” and, “Who do you say Jesus is?” – are still relevant today.

The answers today are probably very similar to what the disciples said: friend, prophet, teacher, healer, miracle worker, Son of God, second person of the Trinity, Messiah, imaginary. The answers given reflect a person's understanding of Jesus. But the question isn't a poll to find common or popular answers. This isn't Family Feud: “Who do people say Jesus is? Top five answers are on the board.”

The point of the two questions is to differentiate between how the world sees Jesus and how we, through eyes of faith, see Jesus.

We might be tempted to pooh-pooh most of those answers, but the reality is is that the whole of Jesus encompasses all of those answers – with the exception of “imaginary.” There are certainly grains of truth in each of those descriptions, but individual truths are not the whole Truth of who Jesus is. The problem, though, is that people tend to force Jesus onto their preconceived notion of who Jesus is.

As an example: Part of who Jesus is is Christus Victor, King of kings, and Lord of lords. From his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and he will rule with a rod of iron. There are those who only see that image when talking about Jesus and they neglect the Christ who shows mercy, who heals and feeds, who is compassionate. They have turned Jesus from a window which we see the kingdom of God into a mirror that reflects their desires and biases. In short, they turn Jesus into an idol of their own making.

This confession of Peter's, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God,” has three parts to it.

First, in calling Jesus “Messiah,” Peter recognizes that he is the one who will save a world in peril. As Jesus saved and healed the sick, lame, and deaf, as Jesus welcomed outcasts back into the body of the community, as Jesus saved a drowning Peter, so he will save the world at large. Our faith tells us that the fate of the world is already determined, that God will save those who choose to follow, and that the person doing the saving is Christ.

The second part of this confession is that Jesus, as the Son, is part of the very nature of God. I won't say this is part of early Trinitarian theology, but it is one piece that the Church Fathers picked up on in developing our understanding of God. When we say that Jesus is “true God from true God, of one Being with the Father,” we can look to this confession. And being the Son of the LIVING God recognizes that God is active, giving life to all creatures, creating and sustaining life. The living God is no human invention, no molded idol of clay, but a living being who is, was, and ever shall be.

The third part of this confession is that it is the result of a relationship. Peter made this confession that was revealed to him by God. We do not make this type of confession by reading commentaries and treatises. We don't make it through comparative religion studies. Although spending time in study is part of it – remember, Jesus was a teacher. This confession was made because God drew Peter to him through Jesus. God also drew near to Peter through Jesus. And it is through Jesus that there is community, intimacy, and relationships. His confession is the expression of that relationship.

When we talk to people about God, Jesus, or the Church (not IF we talk to people, but WHEN we talk to people), it's important to keep all of this in mind:

1. Jesus is more than the sum of his parts, his is more than a mirror reflecting our desires of who we want him to be, and he is the Savior of the world;

2. Jesus is part of the Triune God – Creator, Redeemer, Sanctifier. That living God is active in our lives, in our community, and in our world;

3. Understand that we are in a relationship with Christ and how we treat that relationship will determine how we talk about Christ with others.

May we, like Peter, put all of this together in a confession that causes Jesus to respond to us by saying, “Blessed are you.”

Amen. 

Sermon; Proper 15A; Matt. 15:10-28

Once again we have a gospel reading that skips over an important piece of scripture. In Chapter 14 we see the transition from old to new. We see the kingdom of heaven Jesus has been preaching on come to fulfillment with the presence of God's abundance and the feeding of the 5000. And we see the boat in the storm as a metaphor for the new community needing Christ in its midst.

Now, in Chapter 15, we begin to see this new community evolve in a variety of ways. But as I said, the lectionary skips over some critical information. After the incident in the boat, Jesus and the disciples end up in Gennesaret where he is recognized and people bring all those who were sick to be healed. Eventually some Pharisees and scribes arrive accusing his group of breaking tradition by not washing their hands before eating. This wasn't your mother's hand washing, or the hand washing we all did during COVID, but a symbolic hand washing to remove the stain of touching unclean things. Jesus responds by saying, “And why do you break the commandment of God for the sake of tradition?” then lays into them for their hypocrisy. And here is where we enter the story.

The first half of today's gospel has Jesus addressing the crowds in response to his confrontation with the Pharisees. In this new community Jesus is trying to establish, he uses the Pharisees and scribes as an example of how not to behave.

The Pharisees had advertised standards that they expected everyone to live by and were quick to call out anyone who didn't live up to those expectations. But they also managed to absolve themselves of any wrongdoing through this same tactic. It followed the pattern of seeing someone who offends your interpretation and then attack them vigorously and loudly, and accuse them of the very things you allow for yourself. Jesus responds to them by saying, “You want to know what defiles a person? It's what comes out of your mouth: evil intentions, murder, slander, theft, false witness.”

As this new community of Christ begins to take shape, Jesus is trying to establish some rules of behavior. What Jesus addressed then is just as valid today. Social media is a good place to start. It doesn't take much looking to find accounts who identify themselves as “Follower of Jesus,” or with tag lines of, “Love God, Be Kind,” “Celebrate life,” “Becoming the person I should be,” and other such wholesome bios with overly religious or kind sayings about respecting people, only to find they make comments on other pages about body-shaming, how terrible they look, or slapping them for having opinions. This happens in politics as well where people will state the most outlandish claims and lies in order to scare people or drive them into a sense of panic. Never mind that the truth is nowhere to be found – if you repeat the lie often enough, people will believe it.

I'm glad I'm not a kid these days, or have a young kid these days. We all know kids can be cruel, but in this age of cyberbullying it's been taken to an extreme. How many cases of suicide have there been because a child was driven to the breaking point and decided the only option was to die?

Claiming to be on the moral high ground while making personal attacks against those whom we don't like, find annoying, or don't meet our definition of “normal” puts us in the same group as the Pharisees whom Jesus was attacking for doing the very same thing.

And as if to drive this point home, this teaching about what comes out of the mouth proceeding from the heart and defiling us is followed by the encounter with the Canaanite woman.

The first thing to understand about this story is that Israelites and Canaanites were generational enemies. That hatred goes all the way back to Genesis 9 when Noah cursed Ham and his descendants, the Canaanites, after the flood. So this person who approached Jesus was 1) a foreigner, 2) a woman, 3) probably a single woman, and 4) a sworn enemy. Yet here she is begging Jesus for mercy.

Not only is she begging for mercy, but she recognizes who he is by calling him Lord and Son of David. But even when she uses this title, Jesus ignores her. This is reminiscent of Ps. 22:2 when the psalmist wrote, “O My God, I cry by day, but you do not answer.” Neither Jesus nor the disciples have time for this annoyance, so they do what they can to make her leave.

Yet she is persistent, coming to kneel before him. This humble act recalls others in this gospel who have knelt before him and acknowledged him as Lord and/or Savior – the magi, a leper, a synagogue leader, and the disciples in the boat last week.

In this exchange between Jesus and the woman we see a very uncomfortable image of Jesus. Here all of his humanity comes through – the biases against foreigners and women, and the desire to focus on me and my own first.

In one respect, Jesus is not wrong. The Son of God comes to the lost sheep of Israel. He has come to restore the relationship between God and his people. He is the person who is both the culmination of Israel's history and the point of contact for God in the world. With that in mind, Jesus rightly says, “I'm not for you.”

But humans can learn, and God can change God's mind. The Flood was a bad idea that God never repeated. God opted to not destroy Nineveh. And Jesus, prodded by this woman's plea, may have heard his own words from just a bit ago: “It isn't what goes into the mouth that defiles, but it is what comes out of the mouth from the heart that defiles.” O snap.

It's an odd feeling when a preacher realizes the words spoken are directed at themselves. This very well could have been Jesus' “Aha” moment. The moment when he realized his mission wasn't limited to Israel but was open to all who chose to follow him. As such, this is also the moment his disciples and the early Church recognize the same thing. This is also the natural progression of the new community Jesus is trying to establish.

In Chapter 13 we were given kingdom parables telling us the kingdom of heaven was very near and showing us what to look for. Chapter 14 showed us what the kingdom of heaven/new community of Christ could look like if we all cared for others as God cares with the feeding of the 5000. We saw the peace of Christ being with us in the boat. Today we saw how the community of Christ should behave to avoid defilement in our words and actions. And we see how this new community of Christ is to take in and welcome people we initially want no part of.

Both of today's passages – the issue of hand washing and the issue of the Canaanite woman – remind us that we cannot be contaminated or made less-than by outside circumstances, forces, genders, sexuality, nationalities, or any other difference we perceive. Both of these passages remind us that what defiles us, what contaminates us, what takes us away from the kingdom of heaven is how we speak about and treat others. We must always remember that we are reflective of the new community of Christ and the kingdom of heaven here on earth: a community that is present and attainable now, a community that lives in abundance, a community with Jesus at its center, a community with a morality of love, and a community that welcomes all who proclaim Christ above all.

Amen.

Sermon; Proper 14A; Matt. 14:22-33

In today's gospel we have the story of Jesus walking on the water. I have read a few interpretations saying that this is a misplaced post-resurrection story, but that may or may not be correct. Regardless if it was the resurrected Christ walking on the water, or if it was the human Jesus walking on the water, it still speaks to us and the Church today.

If you remember from last week's sermon I pointed out that Chapter 14 was moving us from the old into the new and was showing us how to live into the new community that Jesus is trying to create. The kingdom of heaven is like . . . a sower of abundance, an abundant harvest, something small that makes a big change, an unexpected treasure. After hearing what the kingdom of heaven is like, we saw that lived into with the feeding of the 5000 and the abundance of food for those gathered. Whether that was due to a miracle of physics or a miracle of generosity, the kingdom of heaven was present in that moment as all those gathered were both cared for and fed. This is really the first event of Christ's new community.

This new community, though, is about more than healing, feeding, and sharing. This new community is about that . . . the community of Jesus. And this story today is about the Church and who Jesus is.

Four of the disciples were fishermen, and Jesus spent a fair amount of time on the water and talking about fishing. As the Church grew and we started to build places to worship, we used this image as our guide. This is why traditional churches, like ours, are built like upside-down boats – the roof being the hull and the pews/nave (from naval and navy) is the deck.

Using that example, we are the disciples in the boat. Just as Jesus made the twelve disciples get into the boat, he has also made us get into this boat. That's not to say we were forced or coerced, but we have been called to be in this particular boat. Whether you have been an Episcopalian all your life, or you are just beginning to be part of this branch of Christianity, or whether you have been part of Saint Luke's for decades or just a few years or less, you have been called by Christ and placed in this boat.

It's important to remember that we aren't here because we all share the same ideas, like the historical society or other civic groups. We are here because God called us. Like the original twelve, we have been called into this place with all of our differences. In that respect, we are a peculiar people. We have been called into this boat and sent out into the stormy seas of life.

The disciples are sent out across the sea. But there arose a great storm that battered the boat and they weren't able to make any headway. Notice that the storm didn't stop until Jesus got into the boat. If this is a metaphor for the Church, what does that say about us?

We, like the disciples, can find ourselves in difficult times, battered by life's wild, restless seas. Whether that is job difficulties, family life, health issues, death, or any number of other things, we can feel like life is tossing us about. But when we have Jesus in the boat with us, those storms become manageable. I won't say we don't face storms, because we will. But with Jesus in the boat, there can be peace. We need to remember that.

One way to accomplish this is to intentionally put Jesus at the center. Is what we do being done with Jesus in the midst of us? Are we making decisions based on a Christ-centered discernment process? Do we spend time discerning how our actions will reflect the mind of Christ? When we are in the middle of a storm, do we take time to pray?

As an example, we begin and end every Vestry meeting with Evening Prayer and Compline. I got some push-back about that because “the Vestry should be dealing with the business of the church.” My response was to remind everyone that the Church is in the business of prayer and if we tried to do anything without being centered on Christ we aren't the Church. We need to remember that everything we do – from Sunday worship to Vestry meetings to the Harvest Hoedown to everything else – must be Christ centered in order to weather the storm.

Wrapped up in this story as metaphor for the Church is the incident with Peter. When Jesus comes to the disciples on the water, Peter says, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” Peter is essentially looking for an easy out. He's looking for Jesus to save him – and only him. He wants an individual miracle. So Peter leaves the boat.

If this story is a metaphor for the Church, then it is reminding us that the new community of Christ only works as a community. This whole thing isn't about individual salvation. Following Christ is much more than saying the magic words and then thinking all is good. We need to remember that we are in this boat together – when one person leaves the boat the community is diminished, and when we leave the boat, we are diminished.

I said this story is about the Church and also about who Jesus is.

For the Israelites, the sea represented chaos. It was uncontrollable and wild. Remember, Matthew, more than any other gospel, works hard to tie Jesus back to ancient Jewish roots, that Jesus is the fulfillment of the Jewish faith. For early readers of this gospel they couldn't help but see God in Jesus. From the story of creation where God controlled the chaos of the sea to Ps. 107:23-32 to the story of Jonah, we see God in control, and controlling, the natural elements. In this story Jesus does the same thing.

And in Matthew's nativity story, he writes, “Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel.” This is a mostly accurate translation of Isaiah 7:14 which says, “Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son and shall name him Immanuel.” Emmanuel means . . . what? . . . God is with us. In the stormy sea, when our boat is being battered by the wind and waves of life, we need to remember Jesus didn't put Peter back in the boat and leave – he got into the boat with them. Jesus is in the boat and God is with us.

This may be a story about the disciples in a boat in a storm and Jesus coming to them walking on water. But in the larger context, this is a story about life, the new community of Jesus, and the importance of remembering to always keep Jesus at the center of why we do what we do. Storms will batter us, but the peace of Christ can keep us from sinking – if we remember to live as a community that keeps Christ in the midst of us in all that we do.

Amen.

Sermon; Proper 13A; Matt. 14:13-21

We have left Chapter 13 and all those kingdom parables behind and have moved onto a section of the gospel dealing with the formation of the new community of God, or the realization of the kingdom of heaven here on earth. We've spent the last several weeks hearing, “The kingdom of heaven is like . . .” and now we are moving toward that new kingdom and new community. At this point in the gospel story we begin to see the old passing away and the establishment of the new.

The Lectionary skips over two important stories between last week's parables and this week's gospel. The first is that after teaching in parables Jesus heads to his hometown where he is summarily rejected. “Isn't this the carpenter's son, and don't we know his brothers and sisters?” Consequently Jesus “could not do many deeds of power there because of their unbelief.” And the second story is where we hear about the execution of John the Baptist. It's after hearing the news of John's beheading that Jesus goes off by himself to a deserted place. The old town refuses to hear new teachings, and John, the last of the “old” prophets, has died, making way for Jesus and the new community.

This new community of God that Jesus is working to establish works to make the kingdom of heaven realized in the here and now, not at some distant point in the future. Which is why Jesus told all those parables – to get people thinking about how the heavenly kingdom is present and attainable now.

In those kingdom parables there is a theme of abundance: a sower sows abundantly not worrying about where the seed will land; seeds grown in good soil produce much; small things, seeds and yeast, have a big impact; and surprising treasures are found. If anything we learn that God is the God of abundance, if we only look for it and believe it to be true. That abundance of God shows up in spades today.

After hearing about John's execution Jesus goes to a deserted place by himself. I'm guessing to wrap his head around what happened. We don't know how close those two were, but I have to think that when Jesus heard the news he was thinking, “How long until they come for me?” But instead of getting some much needed quiet time, the crowd tracks him down. So much for respecting boundaries.

Rather than going elsewhere, Jesus goes ashore and, with compassion, he cures those who were sick. He doesn't preach. He doesn't teach. He doesn't reprimand them for having boundary issues. With patience and love he cures them.

We don't know how long Jesus was with the crowds curing them, but by the time he's finished it's evening. The disciples, recognizing its getting late, want Jesus to dismiss the crowds so they will still have time to eat before all the restaurants and stores close. That is actually not bad thinking on their part. But Jesus has other ideas.

He tells the disciples, “You give them something to eat.” They respond, “But we only have five loaves and two fish.” Undeterred, Jesus takes what they have, blesses it, breaks the bread, and gives it to the disciples to pass out. Enough is left over that the disciples collect twelve baskets full.

There are generally two interpretations to this story. The first, and most traditional, is that Jesus, being fully divine, was able to multiply the loaves and fish in such a way that everybody was fed. According to Matthew, that would be 5000 men, plus women and children – so let's say 9000 – 11000 people. We also know that 98 percent of all statistics are made up . . . but even if there were 500 people, that's still an impressive miracle.

The second is that this wasn't a miracle of multiplication but a miracle of generosity. That is, people were smart enough to never travel into deserted places/wilderness areas without food. But there were probably those who didn't plan ahead, leaving them in a vulnerable position. The initial sharing of five loaves and two fish, while not nearly enough to feed the crowd, opened people up to sharing what they did have. Everyone then realized that when people share and care for their neighbors, all are fed.

Both views can be considered miracles – a miracle of physics or natural law, and a miracle of the heart.

The negative side of these interpretations, though, is twofold. First, if we believe that Jesus miraculously fed 5000 people with five loaves and two fish, then we can say, “So why doesn't God feed all hungry people everywhere,” or, “If God can feed people, I don't have to do anything to help.” The second is if we believe it was all about sharing, one could argue that God really isn't necessary. I tend to think it's a both/and miracle: Jesus was able to multiply the loaves and fish, AND those gathered lived into the kingdom of heaven's new community of Jesus so that there was enough for all – not only enough, but extra. No matter how you look at this story, we see the abundance of God present in the here and now.

Living into the abundance of God is something the disciples had to learn. It's something Christians of every generation need to learn. It's something we need to learn. This story presents us with two ways of being. We can be like the disciples, see we don't have enough for everyone and send people away. Regardless of our motivation or rationalization, we do that out of scarcity, only seeing what we don't have or can't provide.

The other way of being is the abundant kingdom way. We can choose to see as Jesus saw and recognize that what we have is enough, and probably more than enough. We may only start with five loaves and two fish, but if everyone lives into a theology of abundance, then even that small amount will be multiplied.

If you believe you have enough, you do. But moving from scarcity to abundance takes more than faith, it takes practice. It takes making small steps and seeing that those small acts have a big impact.

I was talking with a couple of people after service one Sunday and reminded them to pick up just one or two hygiene items for the Pantry. One of them said, “I forget, so I need a way to remember.” I said that Joelene and I use a different colored shopping bag that we put hygiene items in. That bag stays in my car until Sunday when I bring it in and put the contents into the collection baskets. This person thought that was a good idea. So . . .

The ushers will now hand out bags with the BLFP logo on them and a shopping list inside to every household. Put the bag with your other shopping bags, or where you keep your grocery list, or in your car. And when you go grocery shopping, put one or two hygiene items into this bag, bring it to church on Sunday, and then put the contents of the bag into the collection baskets in the narthex.

None of us can provide hygiene items for all the hundreds of people who use the Pantry. But if we all see with eyes of abundance and a willingness to share what we have, we can all provide a little which, when multiplied, will help multitudes.

Today's gospel story reminds us that we can do great things if we see with the eyes of God's abundance, living as if the kingdom of heaven was among us now. Go and do likewise.

Amen.

Sermon; Proper 12A; Matt. 13:31-33, 44-52

In Matthew's gospel, Jesus is born, his family flees to Egypt, he returns to Nazareth, is baptized by John, spends 40 days in the wilderness, moves to Capernaum, and then begins his public ministry. The first words of his ministry are the same words that John proclaimed: Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near. Now, hold onto that for a bit.

We are still in Chapter 13, which means we continue to get kingdom parables from Jesus. Today we get five of them in quick succession – the mustard seed, yeast mixed with flour, a treasure found, a pearl of great value, and a catch of fish. Now . . . I could break down each parable with explanations and meanings, but none of us want an hour-long sermon.

As I mentioned, both Jesus and John say that the kingdom of heaven is near. And this idea of the nearness of the kingdom of heaven is prominent in Matthew. In a number of ways and contexts, the word “kingdom” appears in Matthew more than any other gospel. And in a quick, very unscientific look through Matthew, I counted about 16 times that Jesus was specifically talking about the kingdom of heaven. For Matthew's Jesus, the kingdom of heaven isn't some pie-in-the-sky dream or post-death fantasy. For Matthew's Jesus, the kingdom of heaven is near NOW. It is within our grasp NOW. It is something to be worked for and expected NOW. Luke is the other gospel that has a lot of kingdom references, and between the two there are almost 100 references to the kingdom. Not coincidentally, it's in these two gospels where we find the Lord's Prayer in which we pray, “Your kingdom come.”

We all know the two versions are not identical, and Matthew adds, “Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” That's another reference for working toward the establishment of the kingdom of heaven in the here and now, not in some distant, future fantasy world.

These five kingdom parables, and the ones from the previous two weeks, aren't about a future kingdom, but are designed to get us thinking about the kingdom in the here and now. They are designed to get us to look for and help usher in the kingdom of heaven NOW. And in looking for the kingdom in the here and now, these five parables point to something big – the kingdom of heaven – coming from something small.

The small mustard seed represents the small beginnings of the kingdom that grows into something so large that many birds (i.e., people) make nests in its branches. Think about Abraham and Sarah, two people who were the mustard seed of all the people of Israel. Think about the twelve apostles, that small group of men who, when mixed with the flour of Israel, made a change so profound that it became the Church. Think about St. Francis whose search for meaning and inner peace led him to find the pearl of great price that was monastic orders and leading the restoration of both Church and chapels.

The kingdom of heaven is like something that begins small but disrupts the world as we know it. That's the way God always works. God doesn't do big, grandiose things to prove his existence or to make people believe. I remember reading a story years ago where God got tired of being ignored, so started doing very public things to get people to pay attention – like lowering Australia 20 feet for five minutes. But that's not how God works, as much as we may want that.

God calls Abraham to follow. Jesus calls twelve men to follow. People are sent out to proclaim the kingdom of heaven has come near. That small thing that is planted in here – in each of us and in this congregation – has the potential to do great things one person at a time.

It's like the old Faberge shampoo commercial where a woman tells two friends and she tells two friends and so on and so on and so on. We aren't here to conquer the world, despite what some Christians think. We are here to make the kingdom of heaven known and present in the here and now, one person at a time. We are here to plant that small seed in hopes it will grow into something grand and/or make a lasting change.

I leave for clergy conference next week and the bishop has us reading a book by Richard Rohr, a Roman Catholic priest and Franciscan friar. In that book Rohr writes, “The best criticism of the bad is the practice of the good.” This gets at what Jesus is saying in these parables. The kingdom of heaven is a good, small practice that will ultimately overthrow the bad.

It was Gandhi who said, “Every revolution begins with a single act of defiance.” Whether that is Rosa Parks not moving, a church feeding the hungry, a member of the dominant class speaking up for minorities – respecting the dignity of every human being begins with you. And that tiny seed or bit of yeast has the power to change lives and help usher in the kingdom of heaven in the here and now.

And speaking of revolutions, these parables remind me of the old Star Trek episode Mirror, Mirror. In that episode, Kirk, McCoy, Scotty, and Uhura are transported to a mirror universe where diplomacy is replaced by war, everything is done for a price, and promotions are attained by murdering your superior. At the end of the episode, just before they are transported back to their own universe, Kirk tells mirror Spock that he can change the trajectory of the empire. Spock says, “One man cannot summon the future.” And Kirk replies, “But one man can change the present. Be that man, Spock.”

These are the small seeds of loving your neighbor. This is the yeast that disrupts systems of oppression and inequality helping to create the bread of heaven for all to eat. This is the pearl of great price that we search for in every person. These are the small acts of the kingdom that make it known in the here and now.

I began by reminding you of Jesus' first words in his public ministry: Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.

Sin, remember, is the seeking of our own will instead of the will of God. To repent means to turn from our selfish ways and desires back to God. Our repentance, if it is honest and done with a true desire to change paths and get right with God, will sow the seeds of change. That change in us can lead to sowing seeds of the kingdom in others, which can lead to God's kingdom arriving on earth as it is in heaven.

In all of these parables we are shown that if we expect the kingdom of heaven to appear with power suddenly overthrowing “the bad people,” we will miss it. Instead, the kingdom of heaven appears in very small ways that will eventually grow and disrupt the world for the better.

Be the seed that starts something big. Be the yeast that disrupts the status quo in favor of God's ways. Search for the pearl of great price in others. Start small and then watch how it grows into the magnificent kingdom of heaven in the here and now.

Amen.