A Sacred Feast

Sacrament: an outward and visible sign of an inward, invisible grace

Liturgy: the work of the people

We gathered together in an upper room, tucked away from the hundreds of others who had come from north and south, east and west to do the important work of electing two new bishops who would serve in the Northeast Jurisdiction of the United Methodist Church. As important as that work was, we had gathered for a different reason. It had been four long years since we had all been together. During that time marriages had been celebrated and marriages had crumbled, babies had breathed their first breath and babies had been lost, some of us had been ordained and others were still struggling through the process. We gathered together to be in community, a circle of women and children because we needed to be with one another. Not talk on the phone, not connect over Facebook, but to sit in one another’s presence.

As our time together drew to a close, we gathered together in an upper room and began the work of setting the Table. Except, there was no table. There was no altar, no paraments, no white linen cloths. No candles, no stained glass, not even a cross except for the one that adorned Shannon’s neck. But there was a whole wheat sub roll that Julia had acquired, and a bottle of grape juice Shannon had given her in a care package, and the chalice and paten I had used at the nursing home just four days ago was still in the trunk of my car. It was enough. We sat in a circle on the floor of the conference room, with our sub roll and grape juice and over-tired children, and we began.

‘When we gather at the table,’ Shannon said, looking at the four children who were wiggling in front of her, ‘we start by saying thank you to God for all the wonderful things God has done. What are we thankful for?’ We thanked God for our community, we thanked God for the way in which we had been brought together in seminary so many years ago. S climbed into Roslyn’s lap and said her family. Auden was thankful for Mia. Mia was thankful for Auden.

I picked up the next portion of the liturgy. ‘We give thanks for Jesus, who loved us and showed us how to love one another,’ and then we sang ‘Jesus Loves Me,’ soprano and alto voices blending with the toneless voices of toddlers who have not yet learned how to sing. ‘Yes, Jesus loves me,’ we sang, smiling.

‘On his last night Jesus gathered all his friends-’ and we looked at one another, tears in our eyes. ‘He gathered all his friends and said,’ Shannon paused and looked at Auden. ‘Auden, will you lift the bread?’ I clapped my hand to stifle the sob the burst forth as my beautiful, precocious, pixie-like child solemnly cupped the paten in her tiny hands and lifted it slowly above her head as her godmother continued the ancient words we all knew by heart: ‘This is my body, given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’

Lent, Light, and Love: John 1

**This sermon was given at North Hunterdon UMC on the first Sunday of Lent, February 14, 2016. The scripture passage was the Prologue from the Gospel of John 1:1-14**

I’m going to be honest with you, I didn’t really plan on addressing the fact that it’s Valentine’s Day at all. Because really, what in the world could Valentine’s Day and Lent have to do with one another? And especially with our scripture lesson this morning, the Prologue from John. But the more I thought about it I realized, you know what, this just might work! Let’s see if we can find some sort of connection between these three seemingly unrelated events: our scripture that begins, in the beginning was the Word, the start of our Lenten journey, and the day in which we celebrate love.

Would you pray with me?

Gracious and loving God, we give you thanks for the many ways in which you make yourself known to us throughout our lives. We thank you for those who journey with us and who are reflections of your love. As we reflect upon the words that we have already heard, I ask that the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts might be pleasing to you. In the name of Jesus, the Word made Flesh, we pray. Amen.

I’m not particularly fond of Valentine’s Day- like many others I tend to resist the idea that I need a special day to spend money buying things in an attempt to show my love for another. Why do I need to buy a card, or buy flowers, or buy chocolates to give to my love on February 14th? And yet, I do buy the card, and the chocolates, and sometimes even flowers- or maybe a houseplant- because I enjoy festivities in general and because I realize that maybe I don’t always tell my loves just how much they mean to me, and perhaps we all need the reminder to stop and tell someone just how much we love them.

Have I ever told you about Daniel? Daniel was my first love- we were going to get married, and have ten babies. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays he was going to be a doctor and I was going to be the nurse. On Tuesdays and Thursdays he was going to be a detective while I was a waitress. When my father told Daniel that, if he was going to marry me he would need to have a job, he proudly told my father that he already had one- collecting the garbage on trash night. This is how the mind- and hearts- of four year olds work. The problem came when Daniel’s family moved to Atlanta. We sent cards, but the hearts of four and five year olds are fickle, and soon Daniel had a new little girlfriend, which I thought was just wonderful.

When I was in the first grade my family packed up our minivan and made the long drive to Atlanta over spring break to see Daniel’s family. It had been three years since our mothers, who were best friends, had seen one another. Spring break also coincided that year with Valentine’s Day, which is also my parent’s anniversary. When we got there, I didn’t recognize Daniel. He was different. I was different. We were no longer the same, we had grown up. Seven year old boys aren’t too keen on playing with seven year old girls most of the time, and so instead of being reunited with my love on Valentine’s Day- even then I was a romantic at heart- I spent the trip playing with his older sisters and my younger sisters. Except on Valentine’s Day, when our parents brought us all together for a treasure hunt. They had put together a little game, I’m sure you’re familiar with it. You’re given a clue, usually a riddle, that you have to figure out and it leads you to some place like the mailbox or the laundry room, and then you find another clue which leads you to the refrigerator, where there’s another clue and so on and so on until you finally reach the treasure at the end. And with each clue your excitement mounts because you know you’re getting closer and closer and yet you never quite know when you’re actually going to get to the prize until suddenly--- the treasure is in your hands. In our case it was boxes of conversation hearts, and Valentine’s that simply said: I love you.

Of course, we already knew that. We knew that our parents loved us, we said it to one another every morning and every night. But in that moment we knew. Their love was made known to us through the time that it took to plan the game, through the anticipation they felt alongside us as we journeyed towards that prize at the end. Their love was made known in the chalky candy with X’s and O’s printed on them, in the heart shaped cards they had made, and in the hugs and kisses we received. Sometimes you carry knowledge within you that you forget in the day to day acts of living, and it takes something really special to open your eyes so that you can really see.

In the piece we read earlier that comes out of the Iona Community we heard in a new way what we know to be true from the scriptures but often forget. We heard how, time and again, God reached out to humanity, trying to show us signs of God’s love, trying to bring us back into right relationship with God, but we couldn’t see. And we couldn’t hear. Or we couldn’t remember long enough for it to make a difference. Some part of us knew that God loved us, but in the day to day act of living and surviving we forgot what that really meant. So finally God said, I’ll go down there myself and show them! Which brings us to our Gospel lesson this morning, these famous words from the Gospel of John that have served to shape doctrine and theology and Christology for centuries yet carry a truth simple enough for even a little child to understand: that the God who is love came to earth in a way we would recognize, in a form we could relate to, in a way we could love. We celebrate this at Christmas, when we retell the birth stories of Jesus, that moment when the Word put on flesh and lived among us. When Love put on skin and walked beside us.

But here’s the problem: even then, the world didn’t know him. Even when the Word put on flesh, ‘the world did not know him’ (NRSV). Even when the Light came to earth to shine in the darkness ‘the world didn’t recognize the light’ (CEB). Even when Love came in a way that looked like us, ‘the world didn’t even notice. [Love] came to his own people, but they didn’t want him.’ (The Message).

Sometimes we don’t recognize love, even when it’s right in front of us.

Sometimes we want love to look like flowers and chocolates and poems, and instead it shows up washing of dishes and folding laundry.

Sometimes we want love to look like long walks under the sunset, arm in arm with the one we love, and instead it shows up as the one who remains when everyone else has gone away.

Sometimes we want love to look like a powerful deliverer, with a strong arm and the ability to bring tyrants to their knees, and instead love shows up as a vulnerable infant.

Sometimes we want love to look like happily ever after, and instead love is arms stretched out on the beams of a cross.

Often we stumble around in our own personal darkness, searching for meaning, searching for connection, searching for love, and even when it’s standing right in front of us, reaching out a hand of healing, calling to us by name, we do not recognize it. We are not alone, when we do this. We are not the only ones. Throughout the gospels we see time and time again love standing in front of people in the form of Jesus and they do not recognize him. They are not able to see. But still he is there; he welcomes the one who comes to him under the cover of night. He reaches out to touch the one who is blind, he calls out to the one who is held by the darkness of death... and little by little we begin to see. Like the Valentine’s treasure hunt we pick up these clues about who this man Jesus is- that he brings abundance, and blessing. That he makes the lame to walk and the blind to see. That he is the way, the truth, and the light, that he is the resurrection and the life, that he is the Light that shines in our darkness. That he is Love.

As we begin this journey through Lent, this journey from the darkness of fear or doubt or grief or sadness, may the one that is Love walk beside us, and may his light shine not only on our path, but on all who find themselves seeking for truth: that God loved the world so much he put on flesh and lived among us, to teach us how to love.

Packing Light

Mark 6:1-13

He left that place and came to his hometown, and his disciples followed him. On the sabbath he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astounded. They said, “Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being done by his hands! Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?” And they took offense at him. Then Jesus said to them, “Prophets are not without honor, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house.”

And he could do no deed of power there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them. And he was amazed at their unbelief.

Then he went about among the villages teaching. He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics. He said to them, “Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place. If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.” So they went out and proclaimed that all should repent. They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.

Happy Fourth of July weekend! I must admit I’m a little surprised to see you all here. After all, with the holiday weekend you all had the perfect opportunity to go travelling. You could have travelled to see family and friends over the three day weekend for all of the Independence Day festivities. Or you could have joined countless other vacationers as they journey to the beach, cars and vans loaded down with coolers, beach bags, and umbrellas. While I did not do any travelling this weekend, the girls and I are gearing up for our vacation down to Maryland in just a few weeks. I’ve already started making lists of the things I need to pack... ugh, I hate packing. Packing can be so stressful, especially when you live or travel with someone who packs very differently than you do. I like to make long, detailed lists of everything that needs to come along on the journey, and now that we have the girls that means packing up half the house. I start packing days in advance, checking and re-checking my lists, to make sure we have everything we could possibly need while we are away. I know exactly what bag the toothpaste is in, where we can the extra socks, and how many bottles are packed. When the day of departure arrives everything is waiting by the door to be put in the back of the van so that we can leave- on time- for our destination, stress free.

Unfortunately, Evan is the exact opposite. Despite reminders to start packing, he saves it all for the morning of the trip. Then he can’t find his suitcase, he doesn’t know which clothes to pack, and everything ends up being shoved into whatever bag he can find, or thrown loose into the back of the car while my stress level goes up, up and up. By the time we hit the road we’re barely speaking to each other, and oh yes, we’re leaving about two hours later than I wanted to.

Can any of you relate?

You see, I like my lists because I like to be prepared. But despite being prepared for as many situations as I can imagine, I’m not a heavy packer. I like my lists because they help me make sure I have everything I need. Unlike that one time...

I was in undergraduate school and I was broke. I was headed home from school and my gas gauge had been sitting on empty. I was running on fumes. Frantic, I pulled into a local gas station and went to pull out my wallet to see how much cash I had to pay for the gas I needed to get home when I realized- I didn’t have my wallet. It wasn’t in my purse. It wasn’t in my backpack. It wasn’t under the seat. It was sitting, at home, on the counter. And I started to cry. The owner of the gas station must have seen I was distressed because he came out to ask me what was wrong. I explained that I didn’t have enough gas to get home and that I couldn’t find my wallet, and started to say that I could just leave my car to walk home and get it when he stopped me. “How much gas do you think you need?” I paused. “I don’t know, maybe $10?” He went inside for a minute, fiddled with the cash register, and came back up. “Fill it up to $20. Pay me next time.” I was astounded and couldn’t say thank you enough. I filled up my tank and went home, amazed at his generosity. A few days later, when it was time to put more gas in my car, I stopped back at the gas station to give him a twenty. He was surprised, and admitted he didn’t think he’d see me again. That became my gas station of choice, and even today it’s where I fill up when I’m in Maryland, because of the way this man took care of a stranger in need on the road. I had packed too lightly that day, but I was taken care. Although I had not carried it with me, I received everything I needed.

In our Gospel lesson this morning Jesus sends the disciples out, two by two, with the command to pack lightly. “He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics.” They were to take nothing but a staff in their hand, the shoes on their feet, and the word of God on their tongues. Why do you think Jesus had the disciples travel so lightly? On the one hand it seems really irresponsible, to send them out with no food or money. But from a practical standpoint, they were probably better off, probably safer, the less things they carried. Because we know from the parable of the good Samaritan that sometimes there were robbers and thugs on the road that would beat up travellers and steal their money and clothes. If the disciples were carrying nothing, then there was nothing to steal. If they had nothing worth taking, not even an extra tunic, then they would be safe. That’s a very practical reason to send them out with almost nothing. But there’s another reason. In the ancient world there were very strict practices around hospitality. When a traveller appeared on your land, or on your doorstep, you were supposed to welcome them. You were supposed to give them water to wash their feet, to offer them food and refreshment. You offered them hospitality because, someday, you may find yourself a stranger in a strange land in need of someone’s hospitality yourself. Hospitality was a gift that you could offer to those who passed through your life as they journeyed through their own. Jesus is able to send to the disciples out with almost nothing because they could trust in the hospitality of the people of the villages they were travelling to. The disciples provided the villages with the opportunity to give a great gift, and in response to their hospitality they would receive the gifts of healing, blessing, and grace.

So if the disciples are commanded, and able, to pack lightly, what are the things that they absolutely couldn’t travel without? First, they would need their sandals, good shoes that would protect their feet as they walked, that would help them get to where they were going. They would need a staff, to help them as they climbed up steep and rocky terrain, and to ward off animals if need be. They would need one another, a companion on the road, someone to encourage us to keep going when the journey becomes long and we grow weary. Someone to warn of us danger ahead, to comfort us when we are afraid. Someone to talk to in order to pass the time, and to learn from through the stories that are shared. Someone to remind us of why we’re doing what we’re doing. To remind us that we have been called and sent out into the world to share the message of God’s love. Which is the final thing that the disciples needed to bring with them: the knowledge that they are God’s beloved, and the faith that God would take care of them as they went out into the world to do ministry to the people around them.

These are the things we need to bring with us when we travel into the world to live the Gospel of Jesus Christ. We need to make sure that we pack the knowledge of the love of God. We need to pack faith for the road ahead, trusting that God is always with us. We need to make sure we bring along a companion, or two, or more who will walk with us, who will remind us why we are doing what we’re doing, who will speak words of wisdom when we need it and who will sit back quietly while we figure some things out for ourselves. We need to humble ourselves to accept the welcome and hospitality that others offer us, and then we need to share that gift with all of those we encounter who are on their journey and find themselves in need of shelter, or sustenance, or simply a kind word. These are things we cannot do without, as we are sent out into the world.

If we pack lightly, just as the disciples did, then we don’t have room in our luggage for a lot of things. In order to pack lightly we need to leave behind a lot of things, things that, once we are forced to live without them, we’ll realize were weighing us down. We have to leave behind the worry that we are not enough. We need to leave behind the belief that just because we are older, or younger, or too small in number that we can do nothing because that simply isn’t true. If we are to pack lightly we need to leave behind judgment, and anger, and hate. We need to leave behind the tendency to say that there isn’t enough time, or there isn’t enough money, or there aren’t enough people. We have to leave behind our doubt and our misgivings. There isn’t room for any of this in our bags if we follow Jesus’ command to take nothing with us on our journey.

Jesus sends us, as disciples, out into the world to spread the good news about God’s love, and of how the kingdom of heaven can be made real, here on this earth. But we have to pack lightly and leave a lot of things behind in order to step out in faith. As we step out into the road, are you ready to pack light?

Do Not Be Afraid- It Is Well

Mark 4:35-41

On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, ‘Let us go across to the other side.’ And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. A great gale arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, ‘Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?’ He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, ‘Peace! Be still!’ Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. He said to them, ‘Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?’ And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, ‘Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?’

Once upon a time there was an upstanding, Christian man who appeared to have everything. He was married to a wonderful woman. He had five beautiful children- one boy and four girls. He had a successful legal practice, and firm investments in property along Lake Michigan in Chicago. His life was like a calm sea-- sure there were a few waves here and there, but for the most part it was smooth sailing.

But then, the storm clouds gathered. First his boat was rocked by the death of his son. Then waves crashed against his boat as the great Chicago Fire of 1871 destroyed his rental property and he lost everything overnight. Seeking solace from the storm, he planned a trip to Europe in 1873 for his wife and four daughters to rest and recover, with the plan of joining renowned evangelist Dwight Moody and his musician Ira Swankey on their tour through Great Britain. “In November of that year, due to unexpected last-minute business developments, he had to remain in Chicago, but sent his wife and four daughters on ahead as scheduled on the S.S. Ville du Havre. He expected to follow in a few days.

“On November 22 the ship was struck by the Lochearn, an English vessel, and sank in twelve minutes. Several days later the survivors were finally landed at Cardiff, Wales, and Mrs. Spafford cabled her husband, ‘Saved alone.’”(1)

He quickly crossed the deep waters to join his grieving wife in Wales. As his own ship approached the spot it was believed the Ville du Havre sank, Horatio Spafford wrote the now famous words: When peace like a river attendeth my way, and sorrows like sea billows roll; whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, it is well, it is well with my soul. In the midst of the storm of life, somehow Spafford felt the peace of the one who can calm all storms: the peace of Christ.

Our Gospel lesson this morning is a familiar one, as Jesus calms the mighty seas with a simple word. Jesus and his disciples have spent the last few days preaching, teaching, and healing along the shore of the Sea of Galilee when Jesus declares that it is time to go to the other side of the sea. It is time to expand their ministry beyond the region of Galilee, and his first stop is to the land of the Gerasenes, who live across the sea. The quickest way was to get there was to sail across the sea, so Jesus and his disciples get into a boat and set sail. When they begin their journey the waters are calm, but as they get further and further out upon the water things begin to change. The water becomes rough and choppy. The winds pick up. Their boat is tossed up and down, side to side, as water begins to slap against the sides of the boat and crash down upon the deck. The disciples, who -remember- are well-seasoned fishermen, are terrified. They look to their leader, the carpenter who they are discovering is so much more, is fast asleep at the wheel. And they are terrified. They rouse him from his slumber, shouting, “Teacher! Don’t you care that we are perishing?” Don’t you care that we are perishing?

Jesus wakes from his sleep- how could he sleep at a time like this, really- and I imagine with arms spread wide he stands in the stern and commands the wind and the waves: Peace. Be still. And they obey. Then he turns to his disciples and asks, Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith? Our reading today tells us that the disciples were filled with awe, but this is really a mistranslation. The Greek words that are used are kai ephobethesan phobon megan which means, and they feared with great fear, wondering, who is this man, that he holds the power to command the sea and the sea obeys him?

They have not fully realized, until this point, the extent of Jesus’ power, and now they fear with a great fear. No longer afraid of perishing in the storm on the Sea of Galilee, they fear the divine power that they have just witnessed. And like a parent, who is comforting their frightened child Jesus asks, why are you afraid?

We’ve all been there. We’ve all had moments when we are afraid. I’m sure we have all had nightmares as children, or have gone into our children’s rooms to find them crying because something in their dreams has frightened them. And as we were comforted or did the comforting I’m sure most of us heard the words: there’s nothing to be afraid of.

If only it were so simple. If only these words were true. Shhh, there’s nothing to be afraid of, we croon, because it’s the truth we so desperately want to believe but what we should really be saying is this: Do not be afraid. Not because there is nothing to be afraid of, but because Jesus is in our boat, God is with us, so no matter how our boats get tossed about on the sea of life we do not need to be afraid.

Because there is plenty to be afraid of.

Why are you afraid? Jesus asks his disciples, and us. We are afraid because we live in a world where there is not enough: not enough food, not enough shelter, not enough oil, not enough money. We are afraid because we live in a world where it is not safe to be a woman and to walk alone at night. We are afraid because we live in a world where it is dangerous to be a man or woman of color. We are afraid because we live in a world where acts of terror happen everyday- in the Middle East and in a small AME church in Charleston, South Carolina. We are afraid, and angry, and heartbroken because our brothers and sisters gathered in a place that should have provided safe harbor from the storms of life and instead they encountered fear and death at the hands of a stranger they welcomed with warmth and hospitality. These are the stormy seas on which our boat sails, this is our response when Jesus asks, Why are you afraid?

And yet, despite all this, we can find the peace of Christ that is strong enough to calm the seas and gentle enough to comfort a child. We see the peace of Christ in the response of the family and congregation of the church in Charleston, as they have responded with grace and forgiveness instead of anger and hate. We see the peace of Christ in those who continue to have conversations about race, and justice, and peace. We see the peace of Christ in simple acts of hospitality and love. We can be the peace of Christ by welcoming the stranger and loving the unlovable. We experience the peace of Christ when we can live into the truth that we do not need to be afraid, even though there is much to fear, because Jesus is with us in the boat.

We are told over and over in scripture: do not be afraid. It has been said that these are both the first and last words of the gospel. They are the words spoken by the angel Gabriel to the young Mary, and spoken to the women at the tomb. Do not be afraid. Even when the waves are crashing. Even when it feels like we are drowning. When the world is tossing us about and we feel as if we are perishing, we do not need to be afraid. Because Christ is with us. May the words written so long ago be true for me and you- even so, it is well with my soul.

Benediction:

As we leave this place of safe harbor to return to the seas of life let us not be afraid, because God who created the waters is with us. Christ who stills the waters is with us. The Spirit who moves across the waters is with us. May the peace of Christ who calms the storms be with you this day and everyday.

1- http://www.umcdiscipleship.org/resources/history-of-hymns-it-is-well-with-my-soul

The Parable of the Mustard Seed

Mark 4:26-34

He also said, ‘The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.’

He also said, ‘With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.’

With many such parables he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it; he did not speak to them except in parables, but he explained everything in private to his disciples. 

“With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it?” These are the words Jesus puts before the crowds and his disciples in our gospel lesson today, words that serve as both a challenge and an invitation for the original audience and those who hear them today to exercise the imagination in the ongoing journey of discovery of the kingdom of God. In this relatively short chapter Jesus tells four different parables. The first is the parable of the sower, which we uncovered last week. To refresh your memory, a sower went out to sow, scattering seed far and wide, on the path, on shallow soil, among thorns and thistles, and on good soil. The birds ate what fell on the path, the plants in the shallow soil withered in the sun because they did not have deep roots, the sprouts among the thorns were choked out. But the seed that fell on good soil- that seed produced a bountiful harvest. The second parable got skipped over in our reading, but we just sang it: you are the light for the world, not to be hidden under a bushel, but to be put upon a lamp stand to shed light in the darkness, so that all might see. This morning we read the final two parables found in this chapter, parables that, like the parable of the sower, find themselves in an agrarian setting, with farmers and birds and most importantly: seeds.

Before we can dig into the parables today, or begin to answer Jesus’ question- with what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it- we must first understand what a parable is. So what is a parable? The short and simple answer is that a parable is a short story that uses everyday items or experiences to relay some sort of instruction or deeper meaning to the listener. While this working definition is true, it makes a parable sound very similar to a fable.

We are all familiar with fables, aren’t we? Particularly Aesop’s fables, which we probably learned as children and later taught to our own children. Such fables include the story of the tortoise and hare, which teaches “slow and steady wins the race” or the story of the boy who cried wolf, which teaches the importance of not telling lies. “a fable is primarily didactic, a clever story meant to offer some insight into and instruction about life.”(1)

The word parable comes from the Greek paraballo. Para means beside, like parallel. They share that same root- para. Ballo means to throw. Parables, then, are “stories thrown alongside our lives”(2), They are “intended to be disruptive, to interrupt what you thought you knew and not just teach you something but actually to confront you with a surprising and often unwanted truth.”(3)

So what lesson is Jesus trying to teach us in these parables? What does he have to say that could potentially disrupt or confront us with an unwanted truth?

The first parable that we heard today is the story of the seed that grows in secret. Jesus uses common knowledge about the life cycle of a seed to teach the people about the nature of the kingdom of God. It teaches the listener about who and what does the work of bringing about the kingdom. A farmer plants a seed, and then goes about their everyday lives. It says nothing about watering or tilling, weeding or tending. The farmer does nothing special after planting the seed. Instead, it is God who causes the seed to grow and bear fruit. This, Jesus says, is how it is with the kingdom of God. “The kingdom of God is dependent upon God’s grace and upon human initiative” (4). The farmer takes the initiative to plant the seed, but it is God who finishes the work. Thank goodness the coming of the kingdom does not rely solely on us!

Last week I mentioned that we have a garden at our house. What I failed to mention is that I do my best to stay as far away from it as possible because I have a tendency of accidentally killing any and all plants entrusted in my care. I like gardening- in theory. I can plant the seeds, but then I forget to water them. Then, when the soil is bone dry, I remember I didn’t water them and then I over water them. I put off weeding way too long, saying, “I’ll do it tomorrow,” until the weeds grow up and I can’t tell the sprouts from the weeds. I am so bad at taking care of plants that I have killed bamboo. Twice! That’s pretty impossible! Thank God the coming of the kingdom is not dependent upon gardeners like me!

The second parable is the well-known story of the mustard seed. Now, a mustard seed was the tiniest of seeds, but could grow into a huge tree or bush. It wasn’t planted on purpose- in fact, it was considered a weed. It took over the place where it was planted and was difficult to contain, even difficult to kill.

Sort of like bamboo.

Now, I have another bamboo story. Once upon a time I lived in my grandparent’s house in Timonium, Maryland. I was looking after things while they were no longer living there. In the spring I decided I wanted to putter around in my grandfather’s garden beds, and I discovered a very interesting shoot. It was bamboo, that had travelled from my neighbor’s yard into mine. I tried pulling it up- that didn’t work. I tried chopping it down- that didn’t work. I tried not watering it- that didn’t work. I tried over watering- that didn’t work. Finally I asked my neighbor if he knew of a way to kill the bamboo. He suggested pouring gasoline on it, but I didn’t want gasoline to seep into my soil, so I learned to live with the bamboo.

Maybe the kingdom of heaven is like that bamboo. It crosses borders and fences. It refuses to be contained. It is indestructible. It provides nourishment for those that eat it leaves, and shade for those who sit under it. Maybe this is the story that was thrown alongside my life at that time. Maybe this is the parable I can use to describe the kingdom of heaven.

But let us return to the mustard seed, because our story today takes place in ancient Palestine, not Timonium, Maryland.

“The mustard seed was a common metaphor in Palestine for ‘the smallest thing’... Like the mustard seed, the followers of Jesus are a bunch of ragged folk, full of doubts, full of fears, unable to comprehend much of what Jesus says or does. The reign of God bursting into history rests on these kinds of folk?” (5) “Jesus emphasizes, ‘Yes, this is the scruffy seed from which the reign of God will be proclaimed’” (6).

The followers of Jesus are the mustard seed.

YOU are the seed. Each one of us has been planted, like a seed, so that God can work in and through our lives, causing us to grow in faith and love. You have been planted, like a seed, so that you might be a safe space for the lost and broken in the world. You have been planted, like a seed, to provide nourishment to those who are hungry, filling bellies with good food and spirits with the truth of God’s love. You have been planted, like a seed, so that the kingdom of God might dwell here on earth.

“With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it?”

May the grace of God help you to grow from a scruffy seed, the smallest thing, into a strong and bountiful tree, a sign of God’s presence in the world this day and everyday.

1- http://www.davidlose.net/2015/06/pentecost-3-b-preach-the-truth-slant/

2- Nibs Strouse

3- http://www.davidlose.net/2015/06/pentecost-3-b-preach-the-truth-slant/

4- Nibs Strouse

5- Nibs Strouse

6- Nibs Strouse

Blessing of the Backpacks Litany

The following is a litany that I wrote for our Blessing of the Backpacks service at North Hunterdon UMC on Sunday, August 24, 2014. The parts that are listed in bold indicate the congregation's response as the leader holds up the item to be blessed.

Enjoy!

-Pastor Amanda

Dear God, you are our Teacher, Creator, and Guide through life’s classroom.

As we prepare for the beginning of a new school year, we ask your blessings on our students, parents, and teachers.

We thank you for pens and pencils that are held by big and little fingers as they learn to write their names, their thoughts, and their stories. Bless the words that flow from these pens, and bless the ones that write with them.

We thank you for crayons and markers, for all the bright colors in the world around us. May they be used to create beautiful pieces of art that show the wonder of creation and each child’s imagination. Bless the art that they create, and the ones who draw and color with them.

We thank you for calculators and rulers, that help us to add and subtract, multiply and divide as we learn to work with numbers, shapes, and how the world works. Bless the ones who help us understand these things and more.

We thank you for notebooks, folders and binders, for handouts that teach us our letters and numbers, and blank pages we can fill with our own thoughts and stories. Bless these things that help keep our thoughts and work together and from getting lost, and bless the ones who fill them with writing and drawings.

We thank you for the books we read, for the books that teach us our history, the books that teach us who we are, and the books that open up magical worlds of possibility. Bless these books and the stories they tell, and bless the ones who read them.

We thank you for our lunch boxes, filled with food to help our bodies and minds grow strong and mighty. We know that there are children whose lunch boxes are empty, and we pray that their lunchboxes might be filled with good food from caring people. Bless these lunchboxes and the bodies they feed.

We thank you for our backpacks that carry everything we need. Although they may be heavy with school supplies, may the children that wear them be unburdened. May the children who do not have backpacks or the supplies receive the things they need, so that they can get off to a good start this school year. Bless these backpacks, and bless the ones who wear them.

We thank you for our teachers, who fill our children’s minds with knowledge, who nurture their spirits, and who protect them while in their care. We thank you for our principals, counselors, custodians, nurses, cafeteria workers and bus drivers who take care of our students. May they receive the support they need and the honor they deserve as they live into their calling to educate this generation. Bless our teachers in their sacred work.

We thank you for our parents, grandparents, and other childcare providers who support and encourage their students in all that they do. Who spend countless hours helping with homework, volunteering in classrooms, driving the carpools. Bless our parents in their sacred work.

We thank you for our students, for the blessing that they are to us. Strengthen their bodies, minds and spirits throughout this school year, that their knowledge might grow and their imaginations soar with new thoughts, new achievements, and new dreams. Bless our students in all that they do, work and play, for it is all sacred work.

In the name of Jesus, the Great Teacher, we pray. And all God’s children said, Amen.