I'm not preaching this week, but I have some thoughts bubbling on the lectionary:
(you can find the text here: Forgiving 70x7)
Jesus Didn't Say
Jesus didn't say, "Feed the deserving." Jesus said, feed the hungry.
Jesus didn't say, "Clothe the deserving." Jesus said, clothe the naked.
Jesus didn't say, "Welcome the deserving." Jesus said, welcome the stranger.
Jesus didn't say, "Visit the deserving." Jesus said, visit those who are sick and in prison. And not just those who were wrongfully imprisoned, but those in prison, period.
Jesus didn't say, "Forgive the deserving." Jesus said, to forgive those who hurt you, not just seven times, but seventy times seven.
The rhetoric of today, which is not unlike the rhetoric of Jesus' day, is that if you have problems, particularly problems related to poverty or marginalization, you must have done something to deserve them. Therefore, by deserving the mess in which you find yourself, you do not deserve the public's help; you are a waste of resources; you have no value.
The thing about forgiveness is that by its very essence, it isn't deserved.
As Christians, we are to love not only our friends but our enemies. We are to risk looking foolish in order to carry out acts of love as we live out the kingdom of God here on earth. If we are too afraid we might be taken advantage of, if we become too obsessed with only helping those who 'deserve' it, we cannot practice love. We cannot practice our faith. Our churches become meaningless, no better than country clubs or 'members only' exclusive societies. Our closed hearts and closed doors create further harm in the lives of those who already hurt.
The foundation of our faith is loving, caring for and forgiving others beyond what they deserve, because we ourselves are already loved and forgiven far more than we will ever deserve.
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
Enough
Although I'm not preaching this weekend, the Gospel story of the little boy offering up his five loaves and two fishes to feed the crowd of 5,000 has been very much on my mind lately. Let's take a moment to talk about that.
When I was a child at church camp, our pastor read this story and asked us, "What did this actually look like? Imagine this with me: did the bread and fish magically pop up out of nowhere? Where did it come from?" Then he admitted that he kept some of his favorite snack mix in his shirt pocket, where most folks wouldn't know that he had it, but it was something to tide him over if he ended up working late. He imagined that most folks in Jesus' day might not head out to the edge of town, a long walk, without also packing a little extra food along, "just in case." What if that miracle was sharing? Perhaps folks didn't want to admit they also had extra food along, since they were surrounded by a crowd that also might be hungry, and no one person could possibly have enough to go around. However, perhaps as they saw the example of this little boy, as that basket came around, perhaps many people there were inspired to share some of their extra food as well--and what little extra each person had, was really more than enough to meet the needs.
Do you ever look at the world, especially in these past few weeks, and feel overwhelmed at the needs? Topping the news has been the tens of thousands of children fleeing the violence and crushing poverty of Central America. Meanwhile, I've been learning so much about our local homeless and hungry population, and the numbers there are daunting as well: long waiting lists at each of our existing shelters, thirty families with children in just one of the elementary schools who are living in their cars, sixty or more people living under the bridge. Long lines at the food pantry, and too little food to go around.
It would be quite easy for us, either as individuals or as one congregation, to look at it all and say, "we just can't make a difference, we don't have enough in the face of all this need."
Yet I think it is so important to notice what Jesus *didn't* ask, either of the boy or of the disciples. Jesus did not ask anyone to bake all the bread and catch all the fish by themselves. Jesus did not ask anyone to go buy all of the food from the nearby village, which would have cost far too much and been too cumbersome to transport by any one person, or even all twelve disciples--who realized this as well. Jesus didn't even ask the little boy to give up all his meals forever, so that others may be fed. Instead, Jesus simply took that little bit of a snack, and blessed it. Even had there been nothing left over, the boy would have been slightly inconvenienced for a few hours at worst.
Instead of becoming overwhelmed by the sheer amount of need around us, let's just start by asking ourselves: what are our five loaves and two fish? What is something that may actually seem like a little something to us, that could be blessed by Jesus and become something so much more? What can we share in such a way that it does not diminish us, but instead inspires others around us to share as well? On our own, we can only do so much. But working together, each of us sharing our little somethings, and combining those gifts with the whole body of Christ, we may even find ourselves in the midst of miracles.
Peace,
Le Anne
When I was a child at church camp, our pastor read this story and asked us, "What did this actually look like? Imagine this with me: did the bread and fish magically pop up out of nowhere? Where did it come from?" Then he admitted that he kept some of his favorite snack mix in his shirt pocket, where most folks wouldn't know that he had it, but it was something to tide him over if he ended up working late. He imagined that most folks in Jesus' day might not head out to the edge of town, a long walk, without also packing a little extra food along, "just in case." What if that miracle was sharing? Perhaps folks didn't want to admit they also had extra food along, since they were surrounded by a crowd that also might be hungry, and no one person could possibly have enough to go around. However, perhaps as they saw the example of this little boy, as that basket came around, perhaps many people there were inspired to share some of their extra food as well--and what little extra each person had, was really more than enough to meet the needs.
Do you ever look at the world, especially in these past few weeks, and feel overwhelmed at the needs? Topping the news has been the tens of thousands of children fleeing the violence and crushing poverty of Central America. Meanwhile, I've been learning so much about our local homeless and hungry population, and the numbers there are daunting as well: long waiting lists at each of our existing shelters, thirty families with children in just one of the elementary schools who are living in their cars, sixty or more people living under the bridge. Long lines at the food pantry, and too little food to go around.
It would be quite easy for us, either as individuals or as one congregation, to look at it all and say, "we just can't make a difference, we don't have enough in the face of all this need."
Yet I think it is so important to notice what Jesus *didn't* ask, either of the boy or of the disciples. Jesus did not ask anyone to bake all the bread and catch all the fish by themselves. Jesus did not ask anyone to go buy all of the food from the nearby village, which would have cost far too much and been too cumbersome to transport by any one person, or even all twelve disciples--who realized this as well. Jesus didn't even ask the little boy to give up all his meals forever, so that others may be fed. Instead, Jesus simply took that little bit of a snack, and blessed it. Even had there been nothing left over, the boy would have been slightly inconvenienced for a few hours at worst.
Instead of becoming overwhelmed by the sheer amount of need around us, let's just start by asking ourselves: what are our five loaves and two fish? What is something that may actually seem like a little something to us, that could be blessed by Jesus and become something so much more? What can we share in such a way that it does not diminish us, but instead inspires others around us to share as well? On our own, we can only do so much. But working together, each of us sharing our little somethings, and combining those gifts with the whole body of Christ, we may even find ourselves in the midst of miracles.
Peace,
Le Anne
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