From the Pulpit:

Text    Matthew 14:13-21 
Date:    July 31, 2011


The Rev. Margaret Waters

 
Are You a Fan of Jesus or a Follower of Jesus?

 

I’m going to ask you all a very pointed question: How many of you all are fans of Jesus? Now here’s another: How many of you are followers of Jesus?

There’s a difference. Being a fan doesn’t make a single difference in our lives. We can be fans of the Texas Rangers, of Justin Bieber, or Glee or crème brulee or roller derby, but they don’t in the least change who we fundamentally are.

Being a follower, on the other hand, is costly. It involves becoming vulnerable. It involves a relationship with another person. It involves opening ourselves to be transformed into the influence and likeness of the one we follow. If we are truly followers of Jesus, then we are offering ourselves to the possibility that we might in fact become more like Jesus. So, are you a fan or are you a follower?

The story of the feeding of the multitude is so essential to the Christian gospel that it is told six times in the New Testament. Some of the details vary from telling to telling, but every one of the evangelists includes it. Great crowds have followed Jesus and the disciples into the wilderness, and the day has gotten late, and the disciples point out to Jesus that these people have been here all day without eating and that he should dismiss them so they can go into the nearby towns to get some food. We all know what happens next. Jesus turns to them and says, no, let them stay. You give them food to eat.

Well, we can just about see the expression on the disciples’ faces. They look out at the five thousand men plus their wives and aunties and children and they are struck by their poverty in the face of hunger. No, Lord, we only have five loaves of bread and two fish. No, Lord, we can’t do your work because we don’t have enough.

Every day we have 86,400 seconds in which to do what we have to do, and haven’t you said – I have – I don’t have enough time? As we set out to do all we have to do, don’t we get overwhelmed? What is on your to-do list for the week? Is time with Jesus on it? I mean time apart from the hour we spend in church, time to spend in the company of our savior, the one we say we are following, the one we are emulating, the one we are offering ourselves to for transformation. Time of prayer or meditation, time of conscious service in his name, time of study or deep reading or Christian fellowship. I let my priorities get topsy turvy, and especially now in the age of way too much information and all the various ways that we are technologically connected and of instantaneous communication, time does get away from us. But can we really say we don’t have enough of it?

George Gurdjieff and Carl Jung were pioneers in soul work. Gurdjieff died in 1949 and Jung in 1961, but they both said that the pace of our lives in Western culture along with our exterior focus will lead us to a place where we lose touch with the soul and with the values of the soul. (1) 1949. 1961. And think how much more slowly life moved back then. No Twitter. No Internet. No smart phones.

Now you all know perfectly well that I am not preaching against technology. I use it and enjoy it and participate in it, and it is a very useful tool for many things, but I think it is the very excess of it that overwhelms us and leaves us standing before our precious lives and saying, I don’t have enough. No, Lord, we can’t feed your people because we don’t have enough. No, Lord, I can’t do your work because I don’t have enough time. Be honest. Do you have time to tweet?

We come at this story the way I watch the magicians on America’s Got Talent. The lady who was in the box ends up in the tiger’s cage, and I’m a little uneasy about where the tiger went, but what’s really going through my mind is How did he do that? Scholars over the years have come up with various ways of dealing with the miracle of feeding the multitude. Some say Jesus really did it. That he essentially did a divine abracadabra and five loaves of bread and two fish turned into plenty of food for everyone and then some. Some say that the people had been hoarding food that they had brought with them, and when Jesus asked them, they decided to share. I’m sure there are other ways of explaining what happened, but explanation isn’t the point.

The point is that if we are followers of Jesus, if we are his disciples, then we can’t stand dumbfounded at his calling and say we don’t have enough. Our God is the God of infinite abundance. When we say there isn’t enough, we deny the very essence of our God, the God who has been so generous with us.

Richard Foster says that the new tools of the devil are muchness and manyness and noise and crowds and hurry. Think about it. Muchness, manyness, noise, crowds, hurry. Where is there space for transformation in that?

What does transformation look like, and I’m talking about our transformation as disciples of Jesus? It has to look like taking time to know him deeply and intimately. It has to look like letting go of what we believe to be our own inadequacies. It has to look like resetting our priorities, choosing from the avalanche of what the present world offers us --  and much of what it offers us is good, but it is just too much – choosing what we will allow to occupy those 86,400 seconds a day.  What are we spending our time on? And how are we choosing?

There’s a whole lot to be said about this miracle story and a whole lot of ways to say it, and I don’t want us to
gloss over its Eucharistic implications. It is a meal after all. It is nourishment. Jesus takes, thanks, breaks, and gives. And we eat at our altar rail so that we can take, thank, break and give. It’s our job. It’s our calling.

Let’s be quiet for a moment. Let’s be present to this moment in this holy space, this time in which we are in each other’s holy company, and let’s not let our minds wander towards what we need to do when we leave. Let’s not wish this moment away, but be present to it in gratitude because presence is a kind of prayer.

Mary Oliver wrote a beautiful poem for just this day. It is called The Summer’s Day. You probably know it.

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

Amen.