THE SEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

July 23, 2006

Isaiah 57: 14b-21

Ephesians 2:11-22

Mark 6:30-44

Year B/Proper 11

While the question of the existence of God is a basic one, the greater question, the question that humanity really wrestles with, is the question of does God care about us? Does God seek a relationship with us? Ultimately that is what scripture is about.

Scripture isn’t a bunch of stories about virtuous men and women who loved and served God well. It is a library of books about a particular group of people; people who were often closer to the criminal than the holy; people who lied and cheated, murdered and manipulated. This people, Israel as we know her, also experienced great suffering, yet she was able to see through her tears clearly enough and taste them deeply enough, that she became aware of a Presence in her midst; a Presence she came to call “Yahweh”.

In the mix of wickedness and misery, tears and oppression, Israel deeply believed that God cared for her and loved her. When Israel was at her best she was God-focused. When she was at her worst she was self-focused, and when that happened she built all kinds of walls and often ended up shutting God out in the process.

The world is full of walls; the Vietnam Wall of Memorials, the Berlin Wall for example. All walls serve a purpose, but not all walls serve the purposes of God. Walls can lead to grief and division; literal and spiritual. The Jewish law functioned as a wall that kept people apart; the circumcised from the uncircumcised, the clean from the unclean, Jew from Gentile. When we look at the Middle East today the walls still stand firm, making it even more amazing for Paul to say, two thousand years ago, that Christ has broken down every dividing wall; that God’s peace and love are available to everyone, even those whom the Jews considered most alienated from God. He wrote those things well aware of all the discord about those issues running rampant in the early church. He wrote them to the Church at Ephesus from behind prison walls in Rome.

With the latest horrible conflict in the Middle East, it struck me this week what an incredible conversion this was for him. For Paul and early Christians to declare that the doors of God’s abundant grace were thrown open, over and against the law, was nothing less than miraculous. It would equal something like the Jews and Hezbollah falling in love with one another.

Today Jesus calls his disciples to come to a lonely deserted place. He has just learned of the beheading of John the Baptist. The news of John’s execution, at the whim of a spoiled adolescent girl, must have been every bit as crushing as the beheading of a loved one by a terrorist today. There is no doubt that Jesus needed time apart; that they all needed time apart. Jesus’ ministry had been riding a wave. Wherever he went desperate people followed, but there is a time for activity and a time when grief needs to be honored; a time for God to restore. This was the time. Only no one told the crowds following Jesus.

Once Jesus and the disciples had arrived by boat to that place apart the crowds were already waiting. The disciples wanted Jesus to send them away. Instead, the gospel says he had compassion on them. The accurate Greek translation of “compassion” is something like having one’s insides wrenched from one’s body because of the depth of feeling and concern.

Jesus saw that they were like sheep without a shepherd. Shepherds put their life on the line to defend their sheep from every danger. That’s why Jesus said he was the Good Shepherd. That’s why the spiritual leadership of pastors and bishops is called to reflect and model Jesus. That’s why Jesus, in spite of his weariness, moved to compassion for the crowds, continued to give the healing medicine of the Kingdom of God to those who needed it most that day.

When it grew late the people grew hungry. The disciples said it was time to send them all home, but Jesus said to feed them. Feed them?! Even if there was some way to buy food it would cost thousands of dollars in today’s currency. But Jesus says “You feed them”.

And it happened. Something happened. I do not know exactly what, but something profound happened because all four gospel writers made sure this event made it into their gospel accounts. Whatever the details, it was perhaps, like the Transfiguration, beyond description, an experience that leaves one empty of words because a whole universe of words could never begin to capture the fullness of what transpired. But let there be no doubt that God’s love and care was filtered through Jesus that day and no one was left hungry.

Everyone knows that the Roman Catholic Church practices what is called “closed Communion”, in as much as only Roman Catholics are allowed to partake of the Sacrament. The power of that exclusion doesn’t really hit you until you experience it. As a student at Aquinas Institute of Theology and as Vicar of an Episcopal Mission that resided in a Christian Brothers Monastery, I was always drawn into inclusion when it came to the Sacrament; even when it was risky for the clergy involved.

When St. Boniface dedicated their new addition next door, being the only girl priest among all guys, I felt a bit self-conscious. But all the boy priests seemed delighted to have a girl priest among them. I was even seated in the midst of them all. I felt so welcome – until it came time to distribute the Sacrament, when those distributing Communion avoided me like I had the plague. In action it said “You do not belong. You are not worthy”. It reminded me that former Archbishop of Canterbury, George Carey, once said, “the Roman Catholic Church does not own the Eucharist”.

A recently published British Book entitled, “Echoes of England. The 8^th Air Force in World War II”, tells of Roman Catholic Chaplain, Fr. Gerald Beck, who would distribute communion to the combat crews. One soldier recalls, “It was not uncommon to see a Protestant boy receive….Many many times I have seen Father Beck driving his jeep at top speed from B-24 to B-24, making sure that no one was denied communion before take off….”

I might add that last night I read the chapter in that book called “Death”, telling of the horrific deaths many of those boys suffered. The action that Catholic Chaplain took is the kind of action that not only breaks down walls, but brings unification in the love and presence of Christ. Who can doubt that those soldiers were fortified and strengthened by his openness? Who can doubt what Jesus would have done?

This week the national news told of a young boy in Lebanon. I didn’t catch his name, although I think he is sixteen years old. It told of his passion; begun long before the latest conflict, of helping anyone in need; feeding them, clothing them, providing them shelter. He told the reporter speaking to him it doesn’t matter to him at all whether they are Jew, Christian, Hindu, whatever. The only thing that matters is their need. Many often stay at his own home and he now has several other young people who have joined him in his passion. This is certainly what Karl Rahner (Roman Catholic Jesuit priest and theologian) meant when he spoke of such people being “Anonymous Christians”. Yes, the church has a long history of that kind of ministry, but it proves that God is not limited to the church; especially when we become self-focused as opposed to God-focused.

The unity that Paul writes of today is not something brought about by human compromise or tolerance of worldly ways. The peace Paul describes is not just a cessation of conflict. The peace to which Paul alludes are not things at all; but a person, the person of Jesus, God’s own Anointed One. How can we be fed unless we gather around the One that feeds us and provides all that we need? Can we tell Jesus to send some away and others not? Was Jesus wrong when he tells the disciples to feed them all? Was he mistaken when he said to Peter after the resurrection, “Feed my sheep”? He didn’t say “Feed my sheep if they deserve it.” There were no conditions. He didn’t’ say “Feed my sheep as long as they agree with you.” He said “feed them” – period.

When Jesus fed the multitudes he was not being nice to his friends or a group of people with minor imperfections. He was feeding those who would turn on him, who would scatter to the four winds at the first sign of trouble. He was feeding those, even among the twelve, who will swear they never knew him.

Jesus tore down walls and extended God’s mercy to those who were scattered and alienated. He had compassion on the crowds; as he has had on us. He beckoned the lost and the leaderless and taught them that in him God had come near to them. We must remember there was a time when we did not belong. Our relationship with God is not a right, it is a gift, but the gift is not ours to withhold from anyone, because it is the way God has chosen heal the sickness that poisons the world.

“You have tasted the kindness of the Lord”, Peter wrote. We have tasted the kindness of the Lord. Therefore we are called to be reflections of the Good Shepherd, so that others too may taste and see that the Lord is good – and loves them beyond their knowing.

AMEN

The Rev. Virginia L. Bennett, D.Min.

St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church

Edwardsville, Illinois