on a troubled sea

The day had not started well. Jesus had just heard the news. His cousin John, whom his mother had felt quicken in the womb–that first kick!–was dead. Dead. Herod Antipas had ordered him killed, for a lark, for a trick, to show off to his guests–and to his trophy wife and her enchanting daughter. And so Jesus had reason to be disconsolate, and reason to be afraid.

He was not alone. No one would let him be.

Crowds gathered. They had heard the news too. John the Baptist, the one who heralded a new day for Israel, had been executed. The powers of this world were strong. And so they came to Jesus. The new shepherd. The good shepherd. Can you feed us?

5000 people. Looking for hope. And hungry.

He did feed them - or rather, taught them that their Father did. 

“He maketh me to lie down in green pastures…”

Sit down. And they sat down.

Share what you have. And they broke the bread, and shared it out.

And soon all were well fed, and hope restored.

“He restoreth my soul…”

And maybe that is a miracle too. For he turned their hearts as he turned his own, from fear to faith. Dread walked the earth, but they were no longer afraid. 

Jesus’ disciples were exultant. They were released from anxiety and felt ! like ! kings !

He sent them ahead of him, across the lake. And off they went, fresh from the miraculous meal, with full hearts, and a good star to guide them. Singing they rowed and gladly they sailed, waving goodbye: see you on the other shore, Jesus.

He was ashore. Alone. Silence, in the breeze. And he went up the hill. Maybe on top he’d recall the blessings he’d once preached there, the happiness of the poor, the blessedness of those who seek God. Quiet, and remembering. And then, full of his Father’s new sense of purpose, he left off grieving, and sought out the others, his friends.

They were out on the sea by now. It was getting rough. And they did not expect him to come to them as he did.

So they may have felt a sudden chill.

Remember John the Baptist was just dead. Fearsome forces were at work. And now like the ghost of Banquo or the spirit of Hamlet’s Father, a figure came to them - across the water.

It’s me, boys. Don’t worry. 

Gathering up his courage Peter called: if it is you, call me to come to you. (No ghost would do that, right?)

And Jesus said, what he always said: Come.

What is there to do but follow?

And out onto the water he came, Peter, Rock of the Disciples, faithful … to a point. The wind was sharp and he felt it cut through his warm heart. 

Jesus, save me! 

And Jesus did. What he always did. He brought peace to a troubled and fearful situation. Come. Do not fear. I am with you. 

He reached out his hand to Peter and raised him up, and they got into the boat together. The wind dropped at last. You really are God’s Son, aren’t you? And they were no longer afraid. 

It is the Lord. It is God, who moved, his Spirit a breath upon the waves, as he ordered the chaos at the beginning of Genesis. It is God, who moved, his voice like the sound of sheer silence, as Elijah waited in the cave. It is God, who came, in the fulfillment of his Word, walking on the water, smoothing the chop and quelling the storm.

It is now … that time. The always time. The time of chaos, worry, uncertainty. The age of anxiety. When the ways of this world and its rulers are not enough.

And this is that time, the time when we turn to God, again. For peace. We shall listen to what the Lord is saying. Words of peace and not of fear. Righteousness and peace shall kiss each other, and this world’s woes will be brought to an end. 

JRL+ 

 

(Matthew 14:22-33, Psalm 23, Psalm 85:8-13.) 

A Storm (Shipwreck), 1823 - J.M.W. Turner 

Tenth Sunday after Pentecost

Proper 14 - Year A

1 Kings 19:9-18

Psalm 85:8-13

Romans 10:5-15

Matthew 14:22-33

two dogs

There is no such thing as a free lunch. Not anymore.

Two dogs got away with it.

Bummer and Lazarus lived in Old San Francisco, before the Great Earthquake and Fire.

Lazarus got hit by a freight truck but he lived to wag his tail. Bummer - was the king of the moochers. He was always bumming a meal. And his friend Lazarus tagged along.

They went from bar to bar in the old Barbary Coast. And there was a free lunch.

The idea of the barkeepers was to lay out a spread - or maybe pickled eggs and franks - so that folks would come in and buy a drink. Mostly it worked.

Unless you were a dog - and a teetotaller.




* * *

Isaiah says, come and eat. Come and get it. Your money isn’t good here. There is no price. Come and eat and drink to your heart’s content. Receive the fullness of God’s grace.

His mercy is without limit or fee. You cannot pay for it. You could not afford it.

* * *

Jesus went off by himself for a while. Seeking a little peace, perhaps. He went to a deserted place. But the people followed him. Moved with compassion he went among them, healing. They were a hungry crowd, hungry for grace, hungry – for dinner. And they were in a deserted place.

His disciples saw a lack of resources. Send them away – so they can fend for themselves. They can go buy something in a village somewhere.

They don’t need to go away, Jesus responds. You give them something. Here.

You have something to give.

And it will be enough for them. It will more than satisfy. It will be an abundance of good food, the stuff of life.

But we only have this here, here in the desert, enough for ourselves.

Nonsense. Bring them here, here to me, in God’s presence.

Here and now.

What Jesus gave them was an experience of the bountiful goodness of God.

When have we been like the crowd? Hungering, in need of compassion? Thirsting for what only God can give?

When have we been like the disciples when they were lost in a sense of their own limitation and need?

When have we been like the disciples when they take the bread and give it to the people?

May we take the bread from heaven and make it bread for the world.

* * *

Jesus gave them an experience of the bountiful good ness of God.

He did not shame them, or say, “What! That’s all you got?? What good is that to me?”

No – he took the offering, and he gave thanks to God.

One true God who created all things: blessed are you – your reign is eternal. You bring forth bread from the earth.

He broke it and shared it out.

The bread they offered, the bread that came from God, bread from heaven, became bread for the world.

All are welcome at the Lord’s Table, and receive abundance there.

For his grace takes what we offer, and makes of it a miracle, a sign of God’s everlasting faithfulness and steadfast love.

The staff of life, in the hands of the source of life, is made a gift that transforms those who give it.

Once small in faith and doubting they now in faith step forward and take the bread and give it out.

Growing in confidence, they see God’s hand at work in the world through them! Through the gift they had made – from five loaves and two fishes.

All they had, they gave. God shows, in this moment, that his love is more than enough.

Humankind lives not by bread alone but by the Word of God. The Word of God – he who is before them, honoring them in the Gift.

What they gave is not wasted. It is gathered up in its abundance.

When have we been hungry, seeking, reaching out for healing and compassion?

Surely at first this was the disciples’ state too. We all need that comfort, that compassion, and that love.

When have we been like the disciples, uncertain of our offering, of its adequacy?

When have we been like the disciples, astounded by what God does with what we bring to the table?

And perhaps, rejoicing by now, we take the transformed offering and share it out.

Bread from heaven indeed – now bread for the world.

* * *

May we take the bread from heaven, the manna in the wilderness, that is the true word of true God, from whom all things depend, and make of it a gift, of holy sustenance, bread for the world.

May we not stint, but share it out in confidence, knowing that he is faithful who called us to the task. He is loving, who gave his own life that we might live. He is the foundation of our hope. He who was raised and is glorified and remembered, may we remember him, every time in the breaking of the bread. Amen.

APentecost7, Proper 13, Isaiah 55:1-5, Psalm 145: 8-9, 15-22, Romans 9:1-5, Matthew 14:13-21



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