Hungry for...?

Matthew 15: 29-37

²⁹ After Jesus had left that place, he passed along the Sea of Galilee, and he went up the mountain, where he sat down. ³⁰ Great crowds came to him, bringing with them the lame, the maimed, the blind, the mute, and many others. They put them at his feet, and he cured them, ³¹ so that the crowd was amazed when they saw the mute speaking, the maimed whole, the lame walking, and the blind seeing. And they praised the God of Israel. ³² Then Jesus called his disciples to him and said, ‘I have compassion for the crowd, because they have been with me now for three days and have nothing to eat; and I do not want to send them away hungry, for they might faint on the way.’ ³³ The disciples said to him, ‘Where are we to get enough bread in the desert to feed so great a crowd?’ ³⁴ Jesus asked them, ‘How many loaves have you?’ They said, ‘Seven, and a few small fish.’ ³⁵ Then ordering the crowd to sit down on the ground, ³⁶ he took the seven loaves and the fish; and after giving thanks he broke them and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. ³⁷ And all of them ate and were filled; and they took up the broken pieces left over, seven baskets full.

I love Advent. What’s not to love? Apart from the rampant commercialisation of a holy season of preparation and the rapid commodification of happiness, of course. And you may or may not be pleased to know that you are going on this advent journey with me, as I will be taking all the Wednesday services between now and Christmas.

I love Advent. I love that it is a season of preparation, a time to prepare ourselves for the coming of God made flesh, that for these short weeks we are intentional about walking the talk, spreading hope and justice, acknowledging our own limitations but allowing God to rise over them.

I love Advent. So for the coming weeks, I am going to very intentionally view our texts through one question – how does this help us prepare for God?

We have been talking a lot about social justice lately, in particular our commission from God to feed God’s sheep. The gospel today is the second time in Matthew Jesus is shown feeding people’s physical hunger through a miracle of plenty, a narrative which occurs 6 times in the gospels. Why is this image so desperately important it has to be emphasised so strongly, to the point where Matthew and Mark used it twice? One significant change between the earlier story and this is that the first crowd were mainly Jews, whereas this motley crew are mainly gentiles. But I am also reminded of the old story of the new pastor. On his first Sunday, the congregation gathered excitedly and expectantly. Everyone was suitably impressed afterward with his sermon. "My, how well he spoke," remarked one. "A superb sermon to be sure," said another. A third chimed in, "If he keeps this up we're in for a treat." On the following week he preached exactly the same sermon. The people were puzzled, but generously surmised that it had probably been too busy a week to prepare a new sermon. After all, he was moving into a new house and meeting all the people. Yet he preached the original sermon the following week as well, and the week after that. The people were very concerned, and the church leadership decided it was time to confront their new pastor. They met him after the service and asked whether he had any other sermons or whether he planned to preach the same one for his entire ministry. "I certainly hope not," said the pastor, "I plan to begin a new one as soon as you start putting the first sermon into practice."

Hospitality lies at the core of our faith. This theme is repeated over and over again in both the Old and New Testaments. It is embedded in our worship with the Eucharist – the bread and wine, the body and blood of Christ that we share. Without in any way taking away from our duty and pleasure in service, however, is the sure and certain knowledge that behind all of our own giving lies Christ.

When Jesus started to talk about feeding those who were with him, the disciples were a little worried. They knew full well the resources they had available, and they knew that there was nowhere near enough to feed all of these people. They are quite reasonable, I feel, in asking Jesus “Where are we to get enough bread in the desert to feed so great a crowd?”. To us, now, the answer is clear. There was nowhere in the desert that could sustain these people – all sustenance had to come from God.

Jesus, even at the height of his earthly ministry, followed by many, surrounded by demands, was still concerned for the most basic wellbeing of his people.  We can imagine the immense crowds surrounding the son of God as news of his power spread. No one could come to Jesus and not be healed. Yet even as he was working miracles of healing, he was aware of the simplest needs of his followers. His mission extended not only to his disciples or those in the greatest of pain, but to every single one of God’s children. God does not and can not differentiate between the worthiness or comparative pain of his followers, giving finite comfort depending on the value or otherwise of the life involved. God doesn’t save God’s compassion for those who really ‘need it’, leaving those with so called ‘lesser’ problems to struggle on alone. 

How do we see this Gospel as an invitation to prepare for Christ? Well, we know there are some problems which cannot be solved without the divine. Some hungers can not be satisfied here on earth. It is easy to fall into the trap of comparing our pain to others, to decide that we are better off than many and have no right to grieve, or alternatively to look upon the grief of others with a heart made hard by our own suffering. But Jesus never made this distinction. This love and grace and hospitality that we are commanded to share without discrimination is but a reflection of that shown to us. 

We can learn from both the example of Jesus and from the crowds. We can learn to give generously, trusting that whatever we have will through God’s grace be enough. And we can learn that the only requirement God has for us is that we show up. We will be fed.

Amen.

Qick! Look Busy!

Luke 21:5-19

5When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, he said, 6“As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.” 7They asked him, “Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?” 8And he said, “Beware that you are not led astray; for many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and, ‘The time is near!’ Do not go after them. 9“When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for these things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately.” 10Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; 11there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven. 12“But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name. 13This will give you an opportunity to testify. 14So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; 15for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. 16You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; and they will put some of you to death. 17You will be hated by all because of my name. 18But not a hair of your head will perish. 19By your endurance you will gain your souls. 

25 “There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. 26 People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. 27 Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in a cloud’ with power and great glory. 28 Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”

Jesus is coming. Quick, look busy!

This are apocalyptic texts. They are concerned with the end of the world, earthquakes, firestorms, wars and insurrections – hang on, sounds a bit familiar. These things have been going on for hundreds if not thousands of years – what’s going on here?

Where is the good news?

By the time the Gospel of Luke was being written, Jerusalem and the temple are already destroyed. When Luke has Jesus say

"Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven..."

he is repeating history. Jesus is dead. Jerusalem is destroyed. Vesuvius has erupted and buried Pompeii, wars and massacres have multiplied, and the horrified tales have spread across the world with the travellers and soldiers of the empire.  People’s horror driven narratives have been honed around campfires into the remembered rhythms of tradition. Luke is telling a restrained history of a world often on the border of unbearable suffering.

We are among the privileged, as Christians go. We are safe to worship without fear, gather and seek fellowship without suspicion, and actively share our love of God and God’s people expecting nothing worse than a little rudeness. There are many others living in situations far more like that presented by the Gospel of Luke and the book of Acts – those where fear and threat is a constant part of their life. Reports from North Korea tell of Christians being pulverized with steamrollers. In North Africa, believers are beheaded, bombed, and beaten. In Iran, pastors are imprisoned and church members are lashed for taking communion. In Eritrea, Christians disappear without a trace. In Indonesia, Christian women are forced from government roles. In Egypt and Syria, followers of Christ are massacred. Now, as then, Christians are far from safe. There has been betrayal within, “even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends.” When we hear of the very real suffering of our brothers and sisters throughout the world, it is hard to not become overwhelmed. It can feel like there is no way we can possibly effect the lives of those so far away, both geographically and culturally. Even within our own country, it is easy to feel helpless as we watch our elected leaders stray so far from the path we expected them to take. 

Yet in his own time of death and destruction, Luke says, not as untested promise, and in the face of hysterical and frightening hatred,

“not a hair of your head will perish. In your endurance, you will possess your lives.”

He bears witness to the experience of the church. The text is hyperbole honed by reality and truth, not religious bravado. It is not untried foretelling, but truth tried by fire. It remains yet our truth.

We have a tendency to hear bad news, but these texts are really about good news, about the Gospel. Jesus isn’t preaching gloom and doom; Jesus is preaching an ongoing reality. Jesus was not predicting some far off day of ultimate battle; he was talking about the reality of life in Israel, which was an occupied country and had been buffeted about by war during its entire existence.

As we accept the suffering of our world, refusing to give up because it is all too hard, continuing to love and hope and pray and make the small differences that we can make to further the kingdom of God in our own lives, then we are able to lift our heads and look for redemption. It is how we live in the midst of suffering that shows our soul. Within this time and place, our redemption draws near.

Christ the King

Ezekiel 34.11-16, 20-24

¹¹ For thus says the Lord God : I myself will search for my sheep, and will seek them out. ¹² As shepherds seek out their flocks when they are among their scattered sheep, so I will seek out my sheep. I will rescue them from all the places to which they have been scattered on a day of clouds and thick darkness. ¹³ I will bring them out from the peoples and gather them from the countries, and will bring them into their own land; and I will feed them on the mountains of Israel, by the watercourses, and in all the inhabited parts of the land. ¹⁴ I will feed them with good pasture, and the mountain heights of Israel shall be their pasture; there they shall lie down in good grazing land, and they shall feed on rich pasture on the mountains of Israel. ¹⁵ I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep, and I will make them lie down, says the Lord God . ¹⁶ I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak, but the fat and the strong I will destroy. I will feed them with justice. ²⁰ Therefore, thus says the Lord God to them: I myself will judge between the fat sheep and the lean sheep. ²¹ Because you pushed with flank and shoulder, and butted at all the weak animals with your horns until you scattered them far and wide, ²² I will save my flock, and they shall no longer be ravaged; and I will judge between sheep and sheep. ²³ I will set up over them one shepherd, my servant David, and he shall feed them: he shall feed them and be their shepherd. ²⁴ And I, the Lord , will be their God, and my servant David shall be prince among them; I, the Lord , have spoken. 

Matthew 25

³¹ ‘When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. ³² All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, ³³ and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. ³⁴ Then the king will say to those at his right hand, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; ³⁵ for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, ³⁶ I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” ³⁷ Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? ³⁸ And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? ³⁹ And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?” ⁴⁰ And the king will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” ⁴¹ Then he will say to those at his left hand, “You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; ⁴² for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, ⁴³ I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.” ⁴⁴ Then they also will answer, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?” ⁴⁵ Then he will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.” ⁴⁶ And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.’

Today is the last Sunday of the church year, our very own New Years Eve, a day for reflection on what has been and what is to come. A festival we call Christ the King, a name which for some (particularly those who support a republic) carries uneasy undertones of Patriarchy and irrelevance. It is from within this shaky space that I would like to examine a much older idea of what Kingship is all about.

In the Israel of the Old Testament, there were only Kings for about 450 years, but the language and duties ascribed to them has become part of our understanding of the nature of Christ. The King was the ultimate judge, an advocate for the helpless, and his duty was to bring justice to all his people. The King’s struggle for justice ensured more than just lawfulness – it brought peace and fertility to the land. The relationship between God and King was usually seen as very close – the King’s power was given and could be withdrawn by God. A common title ascribed to kings was “Shepherd of the people”, acknowledging the Kings especial concern for the widows and orphans – those who could not seek justice for themselves.

Ezekiel shows us a God who is angry that the Hebrew kings have not been good shepherds.  In the first part of our text, God boldly says – “Since I can’t trust the shepherds, I’ll do it myself.”  In this section we hear from the very mouth of God what a good king, a good shepherd, provides, “I will make them lie down.  I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak, but the fat and strong I will destroy.  I will feed them with justice.” Then there is a shift and God promises a new king, an earthly king, a shepherd who will do all these things in God’s name and on God’s behalf; “I will set up over them one shepherd, my servant David, and he shall feed them.”

It is hard, perhaps even impossible, for us to read this text today and not see the fulfilling of God’s promise of a worthy shepherd in the figure of Christ Jesus. This is of course one of the reasons why the genealogy of Jesus is of such great concern to the Gospels of Luke and Matthew – the Messiah we have been promised can so be identified as being a direct descendent of God’s anointed king David, and thus the line from God to King to Christ is preserved.

Part of Christ’s identity as King requires judgement, such as id described in the gospel we heard today. But when the sheep and goats are separated, there is universal surprise at the seperation. The people are not surprised by their behaviour – they were, of course, there. What they are surprised by seems to be the presence of Christ as well.

With all the words we associate with Christ – honour, glory, power, king, ruler, Lord – it can come as a surprise to realise that Jesus is in fact present in the hungry, the lonely, and the dispossessed. When we think about our identity as Christians, we tend to see things like adherence to our creed, affirmation of scripture, and belief in the Trinity as being the pointers to our faith. Yet none of these things are mentioned as Christ speaks about the separation of the sheep from the goats – all he is concerned with is the corporeal acts of justice and mercy we have enacted in our lives.

Jesus’ command to practice the corporal works of mercy is direct, uncompromising, and everywhere present in the entire New Testament. Taken as whole, every tenth line in the New Testament is a direct challenge to the Christian to reach out to the physically poor. In Luke’s gospel, it is every sixth line. In the Epistle of James, it is every fifth line. Involvement with the poor is not a negotiable item. This is mandated with the same weight as is any creed, dogma, and moral or spiritual teaching.
This is a lot harder than any affirmation of faith. To believe in something and to act upon it are two very different things. For those of us who are among the privileged, whether race, economic, class, gender or any combination of these, to enact justice and mercy is going to have a real and physical impact on our own way of life. We are going to have to sacrifice beyond what is comfortable to serve Jesus through his people. For me, as the season of Advent challenges me as to how I wait for God, it means taking a critical look at how much money I give in service to others. When I am deciding how many children I will sponsor, how much money I will give to the hampers, to the AMB appeal, to the charities and services that bring relief to those in need, I am having to give double what I am comfortable with to feel that I am truly serving God. It means instead of putting $10 into the sponsorship jar, I put $20. Instead of giving $200 for hampers, I give $400. This hurts – trust me, it really really does. But in my pain I know that through this action I am becoming one of the sheep – I am able to serve Christ.

There is a wonderful story out of the 16th century about Bishop Hugh Latimer, a great leader of the church. One Sunday morning he entered his pulpit and looked out to see King Henry VIII in the congregation. He knew that what he had to say that day would not go well with King Henry. He thought for a moment and then said to himself, but out loud for all to hear, "Latimer, be careful what you say today; King Henry is here." He thought for a moment longer and again said to himself, but aloud so others could hear, "Latimer, be careful what you say today; the King of kings is here."

The King of Kings is here. Let us welcome him with words and action into our hearts and our lives.

Amen.