Sermon transcript for August 3, 2014
Feeding the Multitude
Matthew 14: 13-21
Belmont UMC—August 3, 2014
Ken Edwards, preaching
When Jesus instructed the disciples to feed the crowd of people, the disciples must have felt overwhelmed. Matthew writes that there were 5000 men, plus women and children and we like to count the women and children, too. So the crowd could have been as many as 10,000 people or more. The town in which I was raised had a sign that read, Welcome to Springfield, population 10,000, so I always try to imagine that they were trying to feed my entire home town with five loaves of bread and two fish.
The disciples’ respond to Jesus, “We have nothing. . .” (v. 17a) They wanted to send the people away. No wonder!
I served two small churches when I graduated from seminary. One was a small church and the other a very small church, and though the small church was active and vital it didn’t have much in the way of money. My salary was supplemented by the Conference and my full-time salary the first year was $10,500.
One of the first persons I met was the treasurer, Raymond, who lived next door to the church in a neat, small ranch house. He told me that he had been very close to the previous pastor and when he left he vowed not to get close to another one. He seemed distant and a little crusty at first. Over the next few months he warmed up to me and my wife. My grandfather had died right before I graduated and this man became a surrogate grandfather to me. We would stay up until 1 AM working in his shop, refinishing furniture and telling stories.
I had asked him for a copy of the budget when I first arrived and he said, “We don’t have one; we just pay the bills when they come in. And you need to watch your spending because we don’t have enough money to pay them all.” I had made a case for having a budget but he was unyielding. After a few months I realized what Raymond was doing to balance the budget. He never put any money in the offering plate when it was passed in church. He would wait until he paying bills and he would make up the shortfall by writing a check to the church. His wife confirmed this but Raymond denied it. He was a generous man, even if he was a bit of a liar.
The church didn’t have much but we were doing some great ministry and the church was growing in numbers. We had an active youth group and we were involved in several local outreach ministries. We paid our Conference askings in full every year. Still, I spent a lot time worrying over what little we had to work with.
One day I came out of church and found two women in the parking lot. They were attached to metal detectors and had the headgear listening for sounds that would bring them hidden treasure. They saw me and stopped and frankly the sight of them irritated me. I said, “Ladies, I hope you find some treasure because we’ve been looking for it around her for a long time without success. I’ll leave the front door unlocked so you put whatever you find in the offering plate.”
And then I said, “If you want to find treasure here, you need to come back on Sunday morning and meet the people. They are the real treasure of this church.” The two ladies fled to the car and sped away.
This was a turning point for me. I heard myself say that the people were our real treasure and it caused me to quit fretting over having little or nothing to work with. On Sunday I took a long look at the people (70-80 people on most Sundays) in the church and I said, “God we don’t have a lot of money, but we have a church full of resources. I was kind of like the disciples who said, “We have nothing. . .” But then they added, “but five loaves and two fish.” And Jesus took what they had and managed to feed the town of Springfield with it. Imagine what Jesus could do with 70 or 80 committed disciples.
We are often guilty of seeing what we do not have and forgetting that a little is a lot in the hands of God. Small churches use their size to excuse them from service. “We are too small and cannot do that.” Large churches find other excuses, often focused on scarcity rather than the abundance of God.
In Mary Pipher’s book Seeking Peace, she references the scene in the movie, Jaws, where the local sheriff is chumming for the great white shark. When it appears out of nowhere and its size is so overwhelming, the sheriff says in a major understatement, “We’re going to need a bigger boat.” (p. 176) Pipher was writing of her recovery from an emotional breakdown while on a book tour. In her recovery she realized that she needed a bigger container. She needed God, for prayer and meditation, and space for something beyond herself.
The disciples need a bigger container (and so do we), one that reminds them and us that five loaves and two fish are huge in the hands of God. Once we acknowledge what we have and give it to God, anything can happen. We give what we have to God and God’s deep compassion becomes the catalyst for a miracle.
There was a story being passed around last week from one of the Sunday School Classes in this church. One year the class was signed up for Room in the Inn for the following Friday night. It happened to be Christmas Day and no one signed up—everyone was too busy to host homeless guests in the Community Center. Then one person said, “I could bake a turkey.” (“I could bring 5 loaves and 2 fish.”) And her simple act of selflessness inspired the others and before the end of the day a feast had been set for those who were homeless and hungry.
Today about 400 Central American children will cross our border looking for hope and a new home. They are hungry and desperate and fearful. That’s more than 10,000 children a year; that’s a multitude. Some will say, “Send them away. We do not have anything to give.” Others are hearing the call of Christ to give them something to eat and they are heading to the border to give what they have. Because that is what Jesus would do. And they will watch God’s compassion give birth to a miracle.
“Taking the five loaves and two fish, Jesus looked up into heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And all ate and were filled.”
This morning I want to encourage you to come to the chancel as we look up into heaven and bless bread and wine, and I want you to look around at the people in this church. We will not be able to say, “We have nothing. . .” We will say, “We are blessed. We are full to overflowing. We bring what we have and we watch God work the miracle.
Sermon transcript for July 27, 2014
Meditation for Service of Healing Prayers
July 27, 2014
Belmont UMC—Ken Edwards, preaching
Today’s service invites us to a time of healing prayer. This may be new to some of us, even though Services of Healing and Wholeness are a part of our tradition. We’ve offered services of healing prayer during Lent but not on Sunday mornings. This service came out of a period of discernment by the worship staff. And while the idea of coming forward to be anointed with oil, a sign of God’s continuing love for us, and having someone pray with you may seem new to us, prayers for healing are not new.
We are probably more familiar and comfortable with praying for others. I receive numerous prayer requests during each week. I see them in church newsletters I have served in the past, in emails from Sunday School classes and on the Tennessee Conference website. We are glad to offer prayers for others in need. Sometimes prayer for ourselves or those closest to us makes us a bit reluctant. We are always more comfortable being on the giving end than on the receiving end of prayers.
There are many needs for healing in our broken and hurting world. During Holy Week this year, as in every year, the sanctuary was surrounded by Stations of the Cross. In one station stood the cross we recess to the lawn on Good Friday. In front of it were ribbons in many colors. The colors represented different needs for healing and people were invited to tie one of the ribbons on the cross. On Good Friday, when the cross was taken to the front lawn, others tied additional ribbons to the cross. I still have those ribbons in a basket in my office. I took them to staff meeting recently as a visual reminder of the needs of our community and our church. The represent a fraction of the woundedness and brokenness that exist around us all the time.
After Jesus called the disciples and they began to share the good news with others, they became overwhelmed by the numbers of people who were coming to them—so many that they did not have time to eat. At one point Jesus invited the disciples to go away to a quiet, deserted place to rest. But the people kept coming. He said that they were like sheep without a shepherd and he had compassion on them. (Mark 6-30-34) We are often overwhelmed by the enormity of human need and our prayer list grows faster than we can keep up.
We all come here in need of healing of body, mind or spirit. Who among us has not felt a bit wounded by living in this world? Some of are in need of physical healing. Others are in need of emotional healing or healing from painful memories. Some of us know people who suffer the wounds of Post Traumatic Stress. There are broken relationships in need of healing. There are those among us who are struggling under the heavy weight of grief. There are some who suffer from dark bouts of depression.
This past week I read Parker Palmer’s description of the deep depression he experienced in his forties. He wrote of his healing this way. “I felt at home in my own skin, and at home on the face of the earth for the first time.”
What are the areas of your life that are in need of God’s healing touch?
At one church I served we held monthly services of healing prayer. We gathered on Sunday nights. The services were simple and open ended. We read scripture, sang hymns and shared together in Holy Communion. After people took Communion they were invited to kneel for anointing and prayer. The size of the crowd varied depending what was happening in the life of the congregation.
One Sunday morning an older woman named Dot came to me at the end of the worship service and told me that she had been diagnosed with inoperable cancer. The doctors told her that the cancer was treatable but not curable. She was a dear, sweet lady who rarely asked for anything for herself. She was not comfortable telling me about her illness but she asked to be on the prayer list.
Dot came to our Service of Healing and Wholeness the next Sunday and brought her daughter and her two sisters with her. I recall worrying that the service might giver her unrealistic expectations regarding her diagnosis.
After receiving the bread and cup of the Eucharist, Dot made her way to one of the stations where she could be anointed and prayed for. I watched her and said my own prayers for her.
Weeks and months passed and Dot’s health steadily declined. Finally, she entered hospice care at her daughter’s home. The associate pastor and I took turns visiting with her and praying with her. Each week Dot would greet me in a very weak voice, but she would say, “I have some things on my heart that God wants me to tell you.” Each week this quiet and introverted lady would tell me something incredibly profound and prophetic. It was obvious that she and God were communing closely during these last days of her life.
One day she said, “God wants me to tell you to quit worrying so much about you children’s behavior in church. Spend more time playing with them and less time disciplining them and things will go just fine.” I wondered if my family had put her up to that, but I never forgot it.
One day she said, “I never told you about my healing, did I?” I was perplexed. She proceeded, “It happened that night at church when those kind people put oil on my forehead and prayed for me. I was so anxious and afraid of facing this journey with cancer and I needed God to give me peace and reassurance. When they prayed for me, peace flooded me and has not left me since. God gave me what I needed and I am so blessed.”
What areas of your life need healing?
God meet us here at the place of our deepest need. We need to come with a posture of openness and a level of vulnerability that we are not accustomed to having.
Parker Palmer said that for years he lived in denial about his depression but it kept following him around shouting at his back, throwing rocks and hitting him until he hurt. One day he turned around and said, “What do you want from me?” In acknowledging this deep need, he began to find wholeness.
At the basic level of why we pray is that we believe in the God who loves us. God meets us here as we come with open hearts.