July 30, 2006 At Saint Mark Church in Norman, OK

2 Kings 4:42-44 + Ephesians 4:1-6 +John 6: 1-15

Now never mind for the moment that we have switched from Mark to John for Gospel reading, just follow the flow of the story. Jesus has crossed to the other side. The crowd has run after him. He has gone up the mountain to teach them. The place where things happen in the Gospel is always important if the writer takes the trouble to provide that information. The mountain is the place where the human and the divine meet. Jesus is seated in the posture of a rabbi/teacher, and he teaches them about how the divine and the human work together.

The lesson concerns two ways of seeing things, and Peter provides the example. He sees five loaves and two fish. He sees too little for so many. Jesus sees things with the eyes of the Spirit: he looks up! Then he tests the disciples; not to see if they pass or fail, but simply to measure how far they have come in the Spirit. He wants to know if they can perceive the revelation about to be given. Philip and Andrew are stuck the material present. When they hear “bread”, they think of flour and water. When they see people, they want to count them; and they know one thing that never changes: scarcity. Too many people, too little food, not enough money, stuck in the material, they think it is impossible. They do not understand how to bring the spiritual to the material.

They know scarcity. Jesus knows abundance. In John’s Gospel that contrast started at a wedding in Cana. This is the Spiritual law the disciples must learn. Jesus has them sit down on the grass……… Are you thinking of that psalm verse? “He makes me lie down in green pastures?”  You should be. For Jesus, these people are not hungry for bread. These people have no soul, and Jesus is going to restore it. When the divine and human meet, this is what happens. The Spirit of God enters into the human spirit, as food into the body, filling that spirit to its capacity (as much as they wanted). So much so that there are twelve baskets left over. Get the number: twelve = complete fullness. It is not bread and fish that fill these people. They don’t say: “Wasn’t that good. I believe I’ll have seconds.” They begin to recognize a prophet in their midst because their spirits are stirred by the divine presence, but not perfectly so because they want to make him a king. While awakened to something wonderful, they are still stuck in the material. So, he withdrew. In typical John dramatic style, the curtain comes down. End of Act One.

Then just as suddenly, up goes the curtain for Act Two.

The boat again. It’s dark. The wind is blowing; the sea is rolling. They were several miles from shore, and they see Jesus walking toward them on the water.

He speaks to them the divine name, revealing the mystery of his identity. He says the name that Moses heard in a burning bush: “I AM.”

He comes to people in darkness and fear. He walks on the chaos that frightens others. And they do the only smart thing when they know who it is. They invite him in. John tells us that they wanted to receive Jesus into the boat with them.

On another summer Sunday, we pause this day because we are hungry. We come to this table not for bread or wine, since by any judgment there is not enough to satisfy physical hunger. We gather on this holy mountain to meet the divine and remember how the divine and the human work together. We come to feed our souls on the Word made flesh. Some of us come already struggling with the darkness, wind, and storms of life. Some of us will meet them yet later this week. But there is one who walks above all the chaos this world can rage, one whose name we know, and the message this day is that he walks toward us and toward any who will row out away from the safety of the material and physical world. To those who ask, he enters their boat, rides along to the other side and sees us safely home. In Genesis, God gathered the waters that were everywhere into one place and made dry land appear. This is the continual action of our present God. The divine gives people a place to stand so that the terrors symbolized by the raging sea do not overwhelm them. When he is there, as the last verse said: “Suddenly they were on the shore.”

July 23, 2006 At Saint Mark Church in Norman, OK

Jeremiah 23: 1-6 +Ephesians 2:13-18 +Mark 6:30-34

Such a short Gospel passage, but so much going on! There’s that boat again taking them to the others side. We have had boat trips with Mark’s Gospel before, always crossing over the waters. When you hear those stories, think of the church: think of companionship, think of how to get from this side to the other side, and when you do, you are embraced by the richness of Mark’s images and message. Then there is that deserted place he takes them to. There is nothing there. Lest they think that all they had done and taught was about them, he took them off to remind them that God was the source of their gifts, God was the one who really sent them, and it was God’s mission they were to be about. Then there is that crowd who never go away, from whose needs there is no hiding place. Finally, the best lesson of all. When there was every reason for frustration and impatience, Pity was what they received from Jesus, and instead of saying: “Can’t you see I want to be alone?” He began to teach them many things.

The first challenge we have from this Gospel is to place ourselves in this story. If, as I said last week, he sent out the “twelve”, which means everyone is sent, then there are no spectators. So, we might wonder a bit this morning about what report we could give on what we have done and taught. But maybe the story is not just about these apostles or apostolic people. Perhaps it is about people who will seek Jesus no matter what the inconvenience. Getting to the other side of that lake is no easy walk. Those people had to go to that desert to find him. Next week we shall hear more of what they received from him. There is then a place in this story for those who have needs. Mark tells us what we shall find if we are willing to go after it. Finally, there is Jesus. What he does, any of us can do. Nothing extra ordinary nor particularly divine. He has pity. He sets aside his own plans and agenda to be attentive to others. I like to think it’s about “interruptions.” Long ago I discovered that the interruptions of my day are most often the best moments of my day. He thought he would have a great time in that deserted place listing to the apostles. Instead, he had a better time teaching that crowd who sought him at considerable inconvenience about his Father. So much for his plans! Because he could surrender them without complaint or resentment, more wonderful things happened.

So, on a hot July weekend after a blistering week of terrible heat, we gather here in a somewhat deserted place. We are reminded as we do so that we shall eventually have to report on what we have done and what we have taught. We are reminded that making the journey here with our needs in spite of the inconveniences and much more comfortable options is where we ought to be with the one who receives us with patience and pity, understanding and concern. We are reminded too that our agenda, our plans, our expectations might well be interrupted by the needs of others, and that no matter where we try to hide from or deny them, the needs of others will not go away. The only response to those needs fitting for those who would be in this boat with Jesus is patience, pity, and a response that is truly divine. We have to find our place in this story.

July 16, 2006 At Saint Mark Church in Norman, OK

Amos 7:12-15+Ephesians 1:3-14+Mark 6:7-13

While Pentecost is certainly the day the beginning of the church coming to life by the power of the Spirit, this Gospel story is the beginning of the beginning. This sending or commissioning of the apostles is the most direct and clearly expressed expectation Jesus has for his apostolic people. While every age has probably heard different pieces of this instruction address its own specific issues, there are two that stand out for us who are, by the power of this Gospel instructed on what we are to do, and how. Because you cannot just sit here and listen to this Gospel and think it was something for the past about twelve guys Jesus called from their work one day and then left behind. The Word of God is alive, and it speaks to us, not to them never more so than when it is proclaimed in the midst of this assembly. The whole notion of “twelve” being sent carries with it a sense of totality. Twelve” in the culture that preserved this Gospel means everyone because there were twelve tribes that included all of God’s people. So, by sending the twelve, no one is excused, no one is left out.

The first challenge of this instruction lies in the point that he sent them out two by two. They did not go alone. There are no “loners” in the church, just as we believe that there are no “lone” churches. By sending them in pairs, the risk of personalizing or misinterpreting the message is minimized. One keeps the other faithful and true to the message. This is at the heart of and an essential piece of our identity. It is why, from every generation, the interpretation of the messages is not a private, personal matter. We do it together, as a church in communion. Even more so, this instruction speaks a word of challenge and correction to this age of individualism. It is why we are not a stand-alone church here on Tecumseh Road. We belong to something bigger. When we do anything, we must be accountable for what affect it has on others. “Going it alone.” is not the way of disciples of Jesus. We are not in “private practice”. We belong together, and when we are not together in unity, we are not a church, at least not the church that springs from the instruction of Jesus. This is not just a matter of life. This challenge address national foreign policy as well as neighborhood life.

The second challenge is just as important as the first. It concerns the matter of what to take. It is a subtle instruction, and the idea runs counter to much of our way of life. Not getting the point causes us a lot of spiritual distress. “Take nothing.” he says. Jesus was definitely not a Boy Scout. “Be prepared.” says their motto. Not so with Jesus and his mission. Our plans too often get in the way. We get our ideas about how things ought to be for the coming of the kingdom, and then when God’s plan crosses ours, it all gets fouled up. The Kingdom of God is breaking in all around us, and sometimes we get so caught up in our plans, in our dreams, in our expectations about how it’s supposed to be, we fail to see it, or worse yet, we slow down and delay the plan of God.

The instruction of Jesus is simple: “Go.” Just “Go.” he says. Don’t worry about how it’s going work out. God will provide for you. You cannot plan for the reign of God. Whatever you think the reign of God is going to be like will be off the mark. Remember how the apostles were always getting it wrong about Jesus and the Messiah role? It’s no different for us. The baggage we pack will hold us back. We must stop being anxious about what you’re supposed to do or what you are supposed to say. Just go. Live the Gospel proclaimed to us. Be a people of Joy of Peace of Forgiveness. God does not need our plan. We are sent to bring wholeness where there is brokenness. We are sent to drive out evil with the power of goodness and kindness. This is not hard. We are not without help. We are not alone. We have one another, sent two by two at least, and we have the Holy Spirit.

July 2, 2006 At Saint Mark Church in Norman, OK

Wisdom 1.13-15; 2.23-24 + 2 Corinthians 8.7, 9,13-15 + Mark 5.21-43

After twenty minutes of driving around the parking lot, a desperate shopper looked heavenward and said: “Lord if you help me find a parking place, I will go to Mass every Sunday for the rest of my life.” At that moment, a parking spot opened. The shopper looked to heaven and again said: “Never mind, I found one.” And with that thought, we are face to face with two desperate people: a highly placed, influential synagogue official and a woman who for twelve years has been isolated, untouchable, and helpless because of a flow of blood which in her culture made her unclean, impure, and totally isolated from human contact.

Again, this week we hear of astonishment at what Jesus does and wonder about what has happened and who is in our midst. The stories of today’s Gospel come after another sea journey from one shore to the next. These sea stories are numerous and important in Mark’s Gospel. The miracle stories today belong together, and the little subtle link is the number twelve. For twelve years the woman has suffered – exactly the age of the synagogue officials’ daughter. Desperation is all they seem to have in common; this powerful influential man and this poor isolated, helpless woman; except for their faith which gives them both access and the attention of Jesus. He does not see wealth or poverty, power or helplessness. He sees only their faith. They both fall down at his feet – one in front of everyone at the face of Jesus, the other crawling through the crowd behind him. In both stories, the power of human touch is unmistakable. “Lay hands on her.” begs the official, Jarius. “If I can just touch his garment……” thinks the woman.

What Mark puts before us after that sea journey across the sea is a contrast of faith. “Little faith” last week on the part of the disciples in the boat who need to be calmed down; and great faith on the part of a desperate man and a desperate woman. The two teach us something about death. Untouched for twelve years, unclean, and now penniless, the woman for all practical purposes has been dead; and death has come to the home of Jarius. The helpless, hopeless crowd ridicules Jesus, and the scoffing disciples question how he could ever know who touched him in that pushing, shoving crowd. But he dismisses their silly question, and he puts the crowd out of the house. These emotions of doubt and fear have no place or power where He is present. They must go. And when they are gone, the girl rises restored to life and her family. And also rising up, standing before Jesus, the woman is restored to life, raised up from her slowly consuming death and twelve years of isolation. And Jesus calls her “daughter” – affirming that she is a child of God. Jarius gets his daughter, God gets his daughter all because of a faith that has overcome fear.

On a hot summer Sunday in the mist of a holiday weekend, we take nourishment and hope from this place. We find in the First Reading from a Book written just before the time of Jesus, the way to interpret and integrate this Gospel message into our lives. Listen to it again in light of these details from Mark 5.

“God did not make death, nor does he rejoice in the destruction of the living.

For he fashioned all things that they might have being; and the creatures of the world are wholesome,

and there is not a destructive drug among them nor any domain of the netherworld on earth, for justice is undying. For God formed man to be imperishable; the image of his own nature he made him. But by the envy of the devil, death entered the world, and they who belong to his company experience it.”

As our nation celebrates its hope for and foundation on the ideals of liberty, we have reason to celebrate even more profoundly the freedom we have found in Jesus Christ. No Declaration of Independence can cause freedom. It can only express the ideal. But God can, does, and wills that we be free:  free of fear, free of doubt, free of death. Because of this, we may declare what we hope for and record in writing for other generations the Enlightment’s version of Rights of Humankind.

The idea that we are created equal is lived in the ministry of Jesus and experienced by an influential synagogue official and an outcast, unclean, penniless woman. Jesus doesn’t know the difference between them because he sees with the eye of God. We might well pray this weekend in thanksgiving for the faith that we do have and for even greater faith that might cast out our fears and our doubts. In a nation that holds our lofty ideals, there is still too much power and influence, deciding who is really free and who is not, who lives and who dies, who is in and who is out. Fear these days still shapes our decisions and our visions. It becomes a tool for the savvy to manipulate opinion. Yet Christ still comes to cast it out, to silence those who scoff at thoughts of peace, and dismiss those who ridicule the idea that life is more precious in God’s sight than any death.

The woman of this Gospel models the faith Mark would teach us. She points to the power of faith in Jesus. She is anonymous and therefore stands for us all. She is an ordinary person who speaks her faith and builds up the community in her generation. She first put her trust in the professionals; the “doctors” Mark calls them. It was the wrong place to put her trust and her faith. Until she turned to Jesus, she was doomed. Shall it be so for us? Who is going to bring us peace, stop violence and killing, cast out fear and distrust? The Pentagon? The Congress? The Courts? The Presidency? These are the “doctors” of our time.

We are spending all that we have, and almost nothing is left. Only Jesus Christ. Only hearing and believing what the Book of WISDOM says will restore us and preserve us. “In the image of God’s own nature we have been made and all creatures are wholesome.” This is the Word of the Lord.