SERMON: Loaves and Fishes

This week I passed a significant milestone in my life. I completed the first draft of my novel. My first novel. It’s 520 pages long, and I actually got to write the words THE END at the end of it. I’ll probably erase those, but man! It felt good to write them.

 

And it was hard, too. I mean, I’ve written books before, but they were always non-fiction, theology. You do an outline, you sit down, you pound it out. Boom! You’re done. But fiction, that’s HARD. I’ve been on the steepest learning curve I’ve ever encountered writing this book, and I have learned so much about plotting, pacing, characterization, and something that surprised me, point of view was a toughie.

 

But as challenging as it has been, it has also been exhilarating. I usually write for an hour a day, and unlike many other projects I’ve worked on, writing this book I have almost always felt like I had more energy, more life, more zip than I did when I sat down to write.

 

Now, I don’t know if it’s any good, of course. It could be that this book is complete crap. But I do know that what it has done in me to write it is nothing short of miraculous. I’ve put in a little bit of effort, and yet I feel like what I’ve gotten back from it is exponentially larger. It defies logic, yet if our Gospel story is any indication, it might be some kind of cosmic law, as well.

 

In this reading, Jesus is doing what he is here to do. He’s ministering to people, he’s teaching them. He is in the center of his integrity, and even though he gets tired, there seems to be no bottom to the well he’s drawing from. He’s handing out the small amount of bread he’s got, but for some reason, it doesn’t seem to give out, there’s enough for everybody, in fact, there’s more than enough.

 

The world’s economies work on what is called a scarcity model—there’s only so much stuff in the world, so we have to hoard it and make sure only the right people get what little there is. Even the church has operated on this model. In the Anselmian model of the atonement—the model still proclaimed by the Roman Catholic Church—there is only so much grace in the world, and it must be doled out a little at a time, through the sacraments, and only to those people who deserve it.

 

But the Gospel turns this upside down. The Gospel preaches an abundance model. The Gospel proclaims that there is enough for everybody, that we should be wasteful, even wonton with our valuables—with our food, with food and shelter, with affection, with our creativity, with laughter and tears and especially with love.

 

Lao Tzu says the Tao is a well that is continually drawn from, but which never dries up. Now, it’s true that there may only be so much oil buried under the sands, but we got along fine without it for millions of years, and we’ll find a way to go on without it again. But of the things that REALLY matter—compassion, forgiveness, love, creativity—there is no shortage on these things. These are things people really need. And if we made a little effort and stopped this hoarding nonsense, little things like food and shelter would be no problem, either. There is enough in the world for everyon, everyone, everyone to live a full and happy life.

 

In our own parish, we’ve been struggling with this balance of scarcity and abundance. I don’t think this is because we have bought into the scarcity model, but because we have not been operating out of our own integrity. We are a spiritual community. It is not our calling to run a business, to manage property and tenants, or to maintain buildings. It is not what we are here to do, it is not something we are necessarily very good at. No wonder it sapped all of our strength and almost forced us to collapse.

 

We went through a very difficult time, there, where there was no energy or new life, or creativity, or vitality. And we’ve all been very tired.

 

But Jesus doesn’t call us to that kind of life. Jesus says that he came that we might have life, and have it more abundantly. I don’t know about you, but I am so ready for some of that abundant life in our community. I am ready for some fun, I’m ready to get together with my friends and do something OTHER than pour over by-laws. I’m ready to brainstorm, to vision, to dream, to get creative with ritual, music, liturgy, and art. I’m so done being a businessman—I’m ready to be a human being again. How about you?

 

I thank God that Mary Sue showed up on our doorstep—that we can hand over to her the things that excite her and give her life—those very same things that sapped life from you and me.

 

As our readings a few weeks ago from St. Paul attest, the eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” because we all have gifts and talents that contribute to the whole. And when each and every one of us is operating from the center of our integrity, which we are all doing those things that excite us, that spark our creativity, that give us life, then the story of the loaves and fishes is not just a quaint myth but a living reality in our midst. When we are each doing the things we are on this earth to do, none of us will feel put upon, or burned out, or abused—just the opposite. We will have energy and creativity and drive to burn.

 

So whatever your gift is—whether it’s writing novels, or sermons, or songs, whether it’s making furniture, or painting paintings, or healing or cooking or massage, whether it’s done in community or alone—I encourage you to DO THAT. And there’s a word for what you’re doing: MINISTRY. For when you are in the center of your integrity, when you are doing the very thing you are here on this earth to do, you edify not only yourself, not only the people around you, not only your community, but the world.

 

Indeed, I would go so far as to say that when you are doing the thing that you do best, you are ministering to God. Because when you are doing that thing you do, you unleash a torrent of abundance that heals and nurtures and inspires everyone. And THAT is the abundant life that Jesus calls us to, both as individuals and as a community.

 

The Buddha said that he distrusts miracles, and if by miracles you mean something that a rare few people can do, something extraordinary and supernatural, then I have to agree with him, because it distracts us from what we are here to do. But what Jesus did with those loaves and fishes, that wasn’t a miracle. That was something that each and every one of us is called to do, every day of our lives: What we are here to do. Because when we can do that, everyone benefits, and there’s always enough to go around, and more to spare.

 

So if you’re tired, worn out, or discouraged, I invite you to ask yourself, “Is this what I’m here to do?” Because I suspect if it is, you wouldn’t be tired, and if it isn’t, why are you knocking yourself out? And what are you waiting for? Let us pray…

 

Holy and inspiring God,

Thank you for helping us hold things together over the past several months.

But now, it seems we have turned a corner,

Help us to take a step back and reassess where we are putting our energy.

Help us to identify those things that you are truly calling us to do

And give us the courage and the willingness to do those things,

Not only for our own salvation,

But for the salvation of the world,

For we ask this in the name of the one who taught us

from the center of his integrity, even Jesus Christ. Amen.