August 3, 2014 - Immanuel Presbyterian Church, Los Angeles - "I Was Hungry"

Matthew 14.13-21

Bad news comes to Jesus … as bad news usually does … all of a sudden, out of the blue, just like that … 

Maybe Jesus was expecting it, but when it comes, it comes hard and fast … as bad news usually does … hard and fast … out of the blue, just like that.

“John is dead,” they say … “We buried him just awhile ago … a headless body it was … we hear it was a birthday party, and plenty of dancing, and the old fool made a promise to a dancing girl … ‘You can have anything you want.’

She wanted John’s head … that’s what her Mommy told her to say … what a fool Herod was … too much drink and a belly full of food.

He didn’t want to do kill John, or so he said … but John is dead anyway, all because of a birthday party … We buried him a little while ago … sorry to bring bad news … but we wanted you to know … so sorry … we wanted you to know.”

And with that bad news hard and fast on him, Jesus heads off into a wilderness area, by himself … to do what we all do, I suppose, when bad news hits us hard and fast … our mind is a mess, thoughts whirl here and there without rhyme or reason … tears come unbidden … we’re sad, angry, frightened, confused … best left alone for awhile … “Don’t talk to me right now … leave me alone … I have to be alone for awhile” …

So human is Jesus when bad news comes his way … no tower of strength, impervious to the slings and arrows of life … he’s just flesh and blood … like us, and he hurts and he cries … when bad news comes his way … I’ve got to get away for awhile … by myself … and he finds a boat to sail him away.

But the crowds … always the crowds, press in upon Jesus … the crowds find out … someone spills the beans, “We know where Jesus is.”

And off go the crowds … on foot, dust a-flying … determined to find Jesus … “What is he going to say next? … what kind of trouble is he going to find?” … the crowds want to know more about him … hear his take on life and faith … and for the sick, maybe a chance, a chance to get healthy again … the crowds press forward, kicking up the dust …

Then or now, folks have a way of finding out where we are …

The text brings a knowing smile …

Jesus takes a boat … onto the sea, canvass billowing, the lap of waves, the smell of fish, a fresh wind - he knows it all, he’s familiar with the sea and those who make their living on it .. and there finds peace … a slow boat it is; he’s in no hurry … when the boat pulls ashore, the crowds are already there … they beat him to the punch … they’re waiting for him … no rest for the weary … the work is never done.

Let’s pretend for a moment that we don’t know the rest of the story … let’s pretend that it’s you and me … our heart is heavy with bad news, we’re tired, bone tired, dead tired … we taken time to get away from everything … we want to be be alone … “Don’t call me, I call you!” 

And the smart phone - oh, we should’ve turned the darn thing off … but we didn’t … bells and whistles and show tunes and clicks and gongs … email, instant messages, voice mail, notices and tweets … 

“Oh, just leave me alone!”

But no alone for Jesus … no rest for him today!

And now the story takes a turn … the heart of Jesus shines like a bright light in a very dark night … it says of him, simply, plainly, When he saw the great crowds, he had compassion for them … and he goes to work.

The work is never done …

For Jesus … or for us …

The work of the Kingdom … bring good news … raise up hope … engage in the stuff of life … make things better … fill in the low places where life is hard and hope is thin … bring down those high and mighty places puffed up with pride and power … prepare the way of the LORD, make straight his paths.

Jesus has compassion for the crowd …

By this time, the disciples show up … they, too, see the crowds … they listen to Jesus … they watch him work … they know he’s tired, they know he’s sad … they watch him go to work.

When evening falls … the disciples make their move … had they been thinking about it for awhile?

They’ve been thinking about it for some time, stewing about it … whispering to one another … and before Jesus can say a word, they say a few words to Jesus - Look here, Jesus, this crowd is hungry, and there’s no food to be found here; things might get outta hand … we suggest, send them into the villages … not that far away … they can buy food for themselves.

But Jesus has none of it … There’s no need for them to go away, says Jesus … you give them something to eat.

But we don’t have enough, not near enough to feed this hungry crowd … we have only five loaves and two fish … 

Bring the food to me, says Jesus.

And to the crowd, Sit on down, and make yourselves comfortable! 

With food in hand, Jesus looks up to heaven … gives thanks to his father … that’s what “bless” means here … no need to bless the food - that’s a pagan ritual … food is already holy, already blessed … it comes from God’s good earth … when Jews said a blessing before the meal, it wasn’t to do anything to the food but to bless God, to praise God, to hallow God’s name … Hallowed by thy name … that’s the blessing … Jesus gives thanks for the food …

And then Jesus breaks the bread …  

Truth be told?

Jesus doesn’t trust the disciples right now … they’re not about to share their food … all the disciples can think about right now is their own hunger … they’re not about to share what they have …

Jesus doesn’t waste any time even asking them.

Give me the food; I’ll handle it.

When he breaks it, he proportions it, fairly … everyone gets a piece of bread … there’s more than enough to feed everyone, if everyone takes their share, and no more … when the loaves and fish are divided fairly, everyone can eat.

The disciples don’t know that yet … don’t know how much they really have … or the power of sharing … a whole lot they don’t know about God, and life, and what the work of the kingdom is all about.

Jesus sees to it that everyone is fed … no one sent back home … nobody turned away … 5000 hungry men … women and children, too.

Give us this day our daily bread.

Some have suggested that when the crowd saw Jesus take the bread and fish, turn toward heaven, give thanks, start to pass it out, the spirit of fear was driven away … 

One-by-one, they reached into robes and satchels and found what little they had … some flat bread, a dried fish or two, a piece of cheese, some dates and nuts … folks were no longer afraid … they began to share with their neighbors what they had.

I don’t know if that’s what happened.

But as far as I’m concerned, that’s the greater miracle.

It would have been an easy for Jesus to simply make bread and fish … what a fuss the crowd would have made, patting their full bellies … but there would have been no redemption in that miracle … nothing to change the disciples, nothing to change the crowd … everyone would have loved Jesus a little bit more, for what he gave to them … 

Jesus isn’t interested in having folks “love” him … he wants us to love one another … brave enough to stop sending the hungry away … see the world - with the eyes of God.

I wonder …

Did the disciples ever feel ashamed of their behavior?  … did they talk amongst themselves about it, later that night, or the next week?

Palestine, Ukraine, Sudan, Libya … Arizona and Texas and California … a refugee crisis … people are hungry … children are crying.

If ever the Christian Church in America has an opportunity to step up and bear witness, it’s right now, right here, on our border … 

Some call ‘em illegals, some build walls, some send in the soldiers …  some wanna send the children away … fend for themselves … but Christians are taking the high road of faith … Presbyterians, Roman Catholics, plenty of other groups, too … to help America be the America of our highest and best dreams … the promise engraved on our Statue of Liberty:

"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Yesterday, the birthday of American novelist, James Baldwin.

An important moment for Baldwin came when he and a friend were standing on a street corner in New York City, waiting for the light to change. 

Baldwin recounts that his friend, an artist, "pointed down and said, 'Look.' I looked and all I saw was water. And he said, 'Look again,' which I did, and I saw oil on the water and the city reflected in that puddle." 

In that moment, Baldwin learned how to see, see the world differently than he had before.

Carl Sandburg the poet said: “In these times you have to be an optimist to open your eyes when you awake in the morning.”

The poet, Dana Gioia … wrote:

“What more could I have wanted from that day?
Everything, of course. Perhaps that was the point—
To learn that what we will not grasp is lost. “

Yes, we can do it.

We can feed the hungry.

Jesus my LORD, take my fish, take my bread … my hands are not strong enough to break it fairly for all; in your hands, it will be rightly broken, and fairly given … teach us, dear LORD, there’s enough for everyone … 

And when the dinner was done, and folks had eaten their fill … something extraordinary … 12 baskets of leftovers … enough for latecomers and midnight snacks … and who doesn’t love leftovers?

We can do it!

Amen and Amen!

July 3, 2011 - "Nothing Like a Good Yoke"

Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.

Let’s take a look at Galilee, where these words were said

Where Jesus lives and works.

After Jesus is born in Bethlehem, his family returns to Nazareth, their hometown in Galilee, and in Galilee, Jesus grows up.

His disciples are from Galilee.

He spends most of his time preaching there.

It’s to the people in Galilee that Jesus proclaims the Kingdom of God.

The people Jesus knows so well, and to them, he extends this greatest of invitations, Come to me … and I will give rest.

Galilee is in the middle of everything.

Travelers and goods moving up out of North Africa or coming in from the East, on their way to Rome, pass through Galilee.

Merchants and soldiers and politicians and teachers from Europe, Rome and Greece, on their way to Egypt, or to the East, pass through Galilee.

All roads lead to Rome and back again.

Galilee the Bread Basket of the Middle East.

Rich in agricultural resources.

A summer retreat for the wealthy.

Kings and queens and emperors frequent visitors.

Multi-cultural, multi-lingual … wealth and poverty … small towns and big cities, agriculture and fishing, itinerant  preachers and teachers for all kinds of philosophies and religions:

Cynicism

Hedonism

Eclecticism

Neo-Platonism

Skepticism

Stoicism

Sophism

Judaism, as well, had all kinds of competing schools of thought – Sadducees, Pharisees, Essenes and Zealots, just to mention a few … sort of like Protestant denominations: Baptists, Methodists, Pentecostals and Presbyterians, with lots of variations in every group.

Jesus speaks to people who are bombarded every day with endless options.

And the people are weary.

Jaded.

Hard to please.

Jesus quotes a proverb to describe them:

We play the flute, and no one dances.

We lament, and no one mourns.[1]

The people were saturated with the world.

Everything at their fingertips.

Sort of like our world today!

24/7, we’re told how to keep our hair beautiful, our teeth white, our waist slim, and have a fabulous love-life.

Politicians tell us they can do better than anyone else.

TV preachers offer wealth, health and happiness.

Financial gurus tell us how to beat the odds and grow rich.

Drugs to cure all of our problems – “check with your physician to see if our drug is right for you, and if it is, we’ll give you a month’s free supply.”

Then the fine print in the ad or the quick-reading voice on TV: “this drug has been known to turn your hair purple, cause delusions, increase appetite, shorten your left leg, cross your eyes, keep you awake at night, make you drowsy during the day, give you depression, suicidal thoughts, and generally make you a horrible driver.”

The self-help section of a bookstore – how many books can there be all promising us the moon? – five easy steps to wealth and happiness … six secrets to love and success … seven steps to personal power … eight ways to build a strong marriage … nine insights that will make you rich … 10 rules to overcome anxiety and depression.

Like walking through a carnival midway … barkers on every side, doing their song and dance – wanting to separate us from our money, promising thrills and chills and a chance to “win a big stuffed dog for your girlfriend.”

We’re bombarded morning, noon and night.

Young parents are a big target for merchandising:

Guilt-inducing ads about child-rearing, early-learning, potty training; getting your child ready for college, proper motivation, choosing their career, managing their moods, eating-habits, sleep patterns … sibling rivalry … tooth decay, self-confidence … IQ development … and all the dangers that supposedly surround childhood, until parents want to shrink-wrap their children and keep them inside 24/7.

TV, radio, magazines and the internet.

Political campaigns.

Health shows and medical infomercials.

Parenting books and conferences.

It’s tough to find our way through all of it.

And all of it plays upon our fears.

We’re afraid of missing out on something.

Not having enough.

Making the wrong choice.

Premature aging and wrinkles.

We’re fearful of many things.

And religion doesn’t always help.

Hell-fire preachers and brimstone peddlers.

Punishment.

Law.

Exclusion.

Judgment.

The kind of religion that fills a child’s mind with fearful images of fire and pain.

A friend of mine grew up in Oklahoma, not just the Bible Belt, but the Buckle of the Bible Belt … tells of a time when communion was served … he took the little cup and poured the juice into his mouth, but didn’t swallow it.

Held it in his mouth until worship was over.

Ran outside and spit it out.

He was afraid of “drinking unworthily” unto his own damnation and going to hell.

Another friend tells of hiding under the pews, hoping that God couldn’t find him, so afraid was he of God.

Fear squeezes out our courage … we stop thinking, we no longer ask questions, or admit our personal doubts - hoping against hope that God never finds out what’s truly in our hearts and minds.

We can’t let our neighbor know.

And we’ll never tell the preacher … who might just tell us that we’re gonna go to hell if we don’t shape up and get right with God!

Fundamentalist hell-fire preaching in America has had a terrible influence on how people think about God and how they live their lives.

Jesus offers a radical invitation.

Come to me!

Take my yoke upon you.

Learn from me.

The invitation of a rabbi.

To become his student – that’s what disciple means.

To follow this outstanding rabbi, and learn from him.

In Galilee, to be invited by a rabbi to join him was a high compliment … young men yearned to find an important rabbi and learn from them … and women, too – look at Mary at the feet of Jesus; code language for a disciple.

When the rabbi teaches, he’s giving his yoke to the student.

Jesus says: For I am gentle and humble in heart.

In other words:

I’ll not hurt you.

I’ll not ask of you anything more than I ask of myself.

Because I came to this world not to be served, but to serve.[2]

And then, the promise, the promise of rest.

After a long hard day of work, it’s great to get home, kick off the shoes, put up our feet, get a drink, sit back and relax … and rest!

It is with good reason that God rests after creation.

Makes the day holy … commands a day of rest for all of creation.

But with Jesus, something special.

Not a day.

Not a ritual.

But a relationship … in him, we find our rest!

I will give you rest, says Jesus.

When we’re well-rested, we think better.

Our world looks better, even the boss.

Well-rested, we can more easily figure out the difference between the trash and the treasure.

Well-rested, we make better choices!

Does Jesus tell us what investments to make?

Or what video games our children should play?

Or where we should vacation?

Of course not.

He offers us something deep and powerful.

An organizing principle.

A center-point.

So that we can be the salt of the earth and the light of the world.

So that we can be courageous:

Courageous to love and welcome.

Courageous to open wide the widows of the soul.

Courageous to get up in the morning and make the sign of the cross over our life: In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit – this is who we are!

And to Christ we belong!

What a gift to give to our families: our centeredness in Christ.

And these days, where we’re bombarded every minute of the day with medical ads … in Christ,  do the best we can, of course; take care of ourselves; be responsible … but in Christ, come to grips with our mortality – that’s the real issue here – mortality; the world is frightened of death – from ancient Egyptians and their pyramids to our endless quest for youth and beauty, we’re driven by a giant fear, the fear of our mortality.

The truth be told: we grow old, strength ebbs, and one day, dear friends, “when the roll is called up yonder,” we’ll close our eyes one last time, draw our final breath, and life will be no more.

Yet in Christ, rest.

Through Christ, courage.

With Christ, peace.

We’re at peace with death, because we have peace with God.[3]

God is the LORD of life AND the LORD of death … we neither live unto ourselves nor die unto ourselves, but unto the LORD Jesus Christ.[4]

We have a gift for you today … a card to carry with you - put it in your Bible, stick it on your refrigerator … and share with a friend.

If you want more of these cards, let us know … we’ll have more next week … after worship today, come up to the LORD's Table to get a card or two.

Dear Christian Friends, Jesus your rabbi.

Let his words enter deep into your heart and mind:

Come to me all you that are weary and overburdened and I will give you rest … take my yoke upon you … learn from me … I am gentle and humble … my burden is light, and my yoke is easy.

Amen and Amen!

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[1] John 11.17.

[2] Matthew 20.28.

[3] Romans 5.1.

[4] Romans 14.7-9