Are we all in the same boat?

Matthew 14:22-33

22_Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. 23_And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, 24_but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. 25_And early in the morning he came walking toward them on the sea. 26_But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear. 27_But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”

28_Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” 29_He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus. 30_But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” 31_Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” 32_When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. 33_And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”

May I propose that the boat in this story isn’t just a boat? The central space of a cathedral is called a “nave” from the Latin navis which means “ship.” Classic style cathedrals and churches are built so that if you stand in the nave, the middle of the church, and look up at the ceiling, it looks like the interior of an upturned ship. That’s because the early church used the metaphor of a boat to describe the church. So the disciples’ boat is the church itself, and the disciples are all believers.

The disciples are together in a boat on the uncontrolled sea, making little headway against high winds, a good image for the early church Matthew preached to. Christians were a tiny minority. The Jews were not always very tolerant of the first Christians. The Romans had begun local persecutions by the time Matthew was written. So to tell a story of the disciples, tempest tossed on the unfriendly sea, alone in a boat, must have struck home to Matthew’s readers.

For Jesus was not with the disciples in the boat. Jesus had required them to get in the boat and go to sea without him. “What kind of mess has Jesus got us into?” they must have wondered. They weren’t getting anywhere because “the wind was against them.”

What are the winds blowing through the lives of churches that seem to impede our journey? Unlike the early church, American Christians aren’t persecuted for their faith. But anything that pushes us away from the direction Christ wants us to go are stormy winds that defeat our faith.

Bob Dylan had a song, “The times, they are a-changing.” We have an expression about “the winds of change.” It isn’t difficult to imagine the boat of the church being blown backward by the winds of change. Times are changing, whether we like it or not. Issues arise in church life that we have never had to cope with before. Sometimes changes come almost too fast to adjust to, so there is a tendency just to stop rowing and relax awhile or give up and stop even trying to make headway. Of course, when we do that, we drift aimlessly.

That’s what happened on the boat on the sea of Galilee. The Gospel says that Jesus could see the boat far from shore at evening time. The disciples must have stacked oars or furled the sails, because they were still there when Jesus came to them the next morning.

Jesus walked on the water to get to the boat. In the Old Testament, walking on the sea is something only God can do, according to Job, Psalms, and Isaiah, among others. Matthew’s point is not that Jesus can defy the law of gravity, so to think of Jesus’ feat as just another miracle misses the point. “It was a commonplace of ancient thought that no human being could perform this feat. … In biblical thought, only God walks on the sea” (NIB). Jesus walking on the sea is Matthew’s dramatic way of making a proclamation. Who is Jesus? The One who walks on the water, deity in the flesh. The boat, the church, is tossed and battered by the angry waves, but these do not impede the Christ, the Son of God. 

When the disciples saw Christ coming to them, they became afraid. There is no hint in the story that the disciples were afraid before then, but when they saw Jesus walking on the sea, “they were terrified.” Terrified! They know that only the deity can walk on the sea because they are good Jews who know their Bible, but instead of recognizing right away who Jesus is, they cry out, “It’s a ghost!” They have been so overcome by their cares, worries, pressures and concerns that their journey has come to a standstill, and now they don’t even recognize who it is who comes to them, even though Jesus comes to them in a way that unmistakably identifies him as divine reality, not superstitious apparition.                             

“Take heart,” Jesus says, “It is I. Don’t be afraid.” The literal translation of Jesus’ words is, “Be courageous. I am. Don’t fear.” I am are the same words God used to identify himself to Moses. “Who shall I say sent me?” Moses asked. “Tell them, ‘I Am’ has sent you,” God replies (Ex. 3:14). To have Christ present is to have God present, and there is no reason for the church to fear. In the storm and winds and waves, we are admonished to be courageous.

“Lord,” Peter says, “if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” In Matthew, only believers call Christ Lord, so Peter knows who he is talking to. But Jesus still doesn’t seem very substantial, so Peter wants a little more proof.

After all, the last time Peter saw Jesus, he was back on the mountainside. And we know that Jesus lived two thousand years ago. So Peter and we have the same problem: if Jesus is back there, how could he possibly be here? The evidence of the here-and-now presence of Christ seems pretty good, but we ask for a little more proof, please. We’re not quite sure yet that Jesus really is with us, come what may.

“If you are the son of God,” is how Satan began tempting Jesus. It’s how Peter starts off in the boat and it’s exactly how we often start our conversations with Christ. We are rarely really satisfied that we have already experienced Christ’s presence, because if we were, we would act differently. We would treat each other differently. We would manage our money differently. We would take better care of God’s world. We would pray more, use less, and give more – if, if, if . . . Jesus really is the son of God. But we love our excuses too much, we love ourselves too much, and we refuse to acknowledge that everything we have is a gift from God to be used for God’s purposes, down to our very lives. But we would believe it, wouldn’t we, with just a little more proof? So we say, “It’s a good trick for you to walk on the water, but tell ya what, Lord, how ‘bout making me walk on water, too! If it really is you, that is.”

And Jesus just flings our challenge back in our face. “Come!” he commands. And now we’re stuck, aren’t we? We tested the Lord, but now the Lord is testing us! What to do, what to do? We have some faith, but we’re afraid.

The story is told of a farmer who went to the store where the shop keeper asked him, “How’s your cotton coming along?”

“Didn’t plant cotton, scared of the boll weevil,” the farmer replied.

“Oh,” says the clerk. “Well, what about your corn?”

“Didn’t plant corn, scared of the drought.”

“Potatoes?” asked the clerk.

“Scared of the tater bug, so I didn’t plant potatoes,” said the farmer.

“Did you plant anything?” asked the clerk.

“Nope,” said the farmer, “I just played it safe.”

There we are, challenging Jesus to give us a little more proof, and Jesus trumps us, and we’re stuck. Do we swing our legs over the side of the boat, or do we just stand still and play it safe?

Peter is stuck between fear and faith. But even in such a tough situation, trust wins. Peter takes a chance on Jesus. It’s all the way: he bets his life that Jesus really is who Jesus appears to be. He goes over the side. Barbara Brown Taylor described what that moment might have been like:

“Peter swung his legs over the side of the boat and, while all the other disciples watched with their hearts beating in their mouths, he placed his feet on the surface of the water—the waves crashing against the side of the boat, the wind whipping his hair into his eyes—he put his feet flat on top of the water, took a huge, trembling breath, and stood up. Then he took a few hesitant steps toward Jesus across the heaving surface, like the first steps he ever took in his life, and he was doing fine until a gust of wind almost toppled him, and he got scared and felt his feet sinking into the black waves below and he went down like a stone.”

Peter was doing fine until two things happened. First, he left the boat. We are all in the same boat together, and none of us has the privilege of striking off on our own, just doing whatever makes us feel better. We are one body. For members of Christ’s church, the words “me” and “mine” are vanquished by the words “we” and “ours.” Even faith is no reason to try to go it alone on the Christian journey.

Second, he took his eyes off Jesus. He was doing pretty well until he “noticed the strong wind” and became frightened. Then he sank. So what was he looking at? He could have walked in faith, but he looked at the wrong thing and so he sank in fear. When we notice things in our faith-walk that make us take our eyes off the Christ, we sink. Like Peter, we vacillate between faith and fear. In faith we stand, but in fear, we sink.

What is in control – fear or faith? Peter, God bless him, had faith enough to know that faith isn’t just believing beliefs, faith is doing beliefs. Faith in Christ is betting your life that Christ really is Lord. That is what Peter did. He bet his life that Jesus Christ would enable him to walk on the water. Faith is doing what we don’t think we can do. Faith is beliefs in action.

But we are deceived to think that if we had enough faith, we could overcome all our problems miraculously. We should not ask God to make exceptions just for us in the ordinary ebb and flow of daily life because we want a miracle to help us serve God. But we do fantasize that God will miraculously heal our infirmities, make us rich, keep us safe from harm, because after all, isn’t our heart in the right place?

Thinking that faith is for miracles is wrong. We are not given faith so we can be spectacular, but to believe that Jesus is with us in our boat, and to act accordingly. Our faith is not just something we affirm; it is how we act and what we do, and how we live and what we give! We sin, sin even in faith, if we just ask for miracles rather than use what God has already given us to row the boat.

So, what are we looking at, the winds which push us or the Christ who is with us? Paul wrote, “We live by faith, not by sight” (2 Cor 5:7). The reality of Christ is discerned with faith’s eyes, says Paul: “we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal” (2 Cor 4:18 ).

“Turn your eyes upon Jesus,” says the old hymn. “Look full in his wonderful face, and the things of the earth will grow strangely dim in the light of his glory and grace.”

Rethinking Marriage

What the Christian religion has to do with marriage is a huge subject, so at best this is an overview. I call it Rethinking Marriage because that’s what the early Christians did. The early Christians inherited two models of marriage from their forebears. Jews who came to follow Christ naturally brought the Jewish understanding of marriage into their Christian faith and Gentile Christians, almost all of whom were former pagans, brought that model. Of the two, the Gentile model drew more attention from the apostles than the Jewish model.

Jesus hardly talked about marriage at all except to endorse the existing Jewish understanding that the marital union between husband and wife was supposed to be both physical and spiritual, and that the loyalty of husband and wife to one another was to be greater than any other such bond. He also taught that a marriage is dissolved by death, which was no new teaching, of course.

The apostles were Jewish, of course, and considered themselves Jewish until they were martyred. The distinction between Jew and Christian came later. So we should not be surprised that the apostles taught what Judaism has long held, for example:[1]

·    Marriage is holy and sanctifies life. Marriage is a spiritual union between a man and a woman as the fulfillment of God's commandment.

·    The purposes of marriage are two. First is companionship, based on God’s words in Genesis 2.18, "It is not good for a man to be alone," referring to Adam without Eve. The second purpose is procreation, based on God’s first commandment in the whole Bible, given to Adam and Eve in Genesis 1.28, "Be fruitful and multiply." In Jewish thought, God blesses sexual relations between husbands and wives for both purposes.

·    In addition, Jews viewed marriage as a contractual agreement with legal rights and obligations on husband, wife, and their families. This is little emphasized in Christianity mainly because that has been taken over by the state.

With those views to build on, the apostles soon learned that they had their work cut out for them in educating former pagans. In the Roman world, wives were little better than chattel to their husbands. Only in the upper classes which ruled the empire was there any semblance of mutuality in the marital relationship, and that because women could inherit the estates of their fathers. (Well, money talks). But the moneyless ninety-five percent of the world’s women lived in a society that was strongly patriarchal. So was first-century Judaism, but not like the Gentile world. The main effect of apostolic teaching was to reimagine and redevelop how husbands and wives related to one another on the basis of their faith in Christ risen, and this meant that their most important identity was not husband or wife, not even man or woman, but adopted son or daughter of God and brother and sister of Jesus Christ. Hence, wrote Paul, just as in Church there should be no distinction between Jew or Gentile, nor between slaves or freemen, even so basic as male and female was not as important as the fact that, “you are all one in Christ Jesus.”[2]

There was thus a radical change in the way that husbands and wives should relate to each other because there was a radical new foundation for all human relationships, including marriage. Why did the apostles teach Gentiles such a radical change from the Gentiles’ existing understanding? I think it was because they learned from women that Jesus was risen. Jesus chose to appear first to Mary and some other women. The first thing that Jesus did on the first Easter morning was elevate the status of women magnitudes higher than ever before. I think the apostles found this quite humbling and it made them rethink the role of women.

Probably the most controversial apostolic teaching about marriage is Ephesians 5:22-33:

   Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.

   Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless.

   In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. After all, no one ever hated his own body, but he feeds and cares for it, just as Christ does the church - for we are members of his body.

   "For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh." This is a profound mystery-- but I am talking about Christ and the church. However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband.

What nags us today is the word, “submit.” We tend to overlook that of the 214 words here, only 26 are directed to the wife; all the others are about the husbands.

Paul compares marriage to the church and Christ. In God's eyes, a husband and wife are, in some mysterious way, a single entity. It is a profound mystery, how two can become one. It has no parallel except the way in which the church is the body of Christ in the world.

Before men get all excited because the Bible says for wives to submit to their husbands, they need to consider the model they are held to. Their model in marriage is Christ and nothing else. Husbands are to love their wives just as Christ loved the church.

The Christlike model for husbands to follow is one of servant-leadership in the manner that Christ leads the church. Christ leads us not by an authoritarian bark of command, but by the sacrificial pouring out of his Spirit. Servant leadership is leadership without ego. It is humble. It shuns power for power’s sake and does not seek prestige. It is self-giving and does not dominate.

A servant-leader listens deeply with the heart as well as the head. He is not arrogant and can change his mind. The servant-leader heals and mediates. He seeks justice and a shared vision for the common destiny.

It is to this sort of husband whom wives are admonished to submit. The scripture says that wives are to submit to their husbands as to the Lord. Our God is a God of love and care. God is present and working for the good of his people. God’s anger is fleeting but his grace and love abide always. God always acts redemptively to save and cherish and treasure.

It would appear, then, that wives are to submit to husbands who mirror the character of the Lord, even though husbands will never do this perfectly and often not even very well. Wives are not admonished to submit to violent husbands. Wives are not admonished to submit to a husband who is abusive or who buries her personal worth with dominance and overbearing. Wives need not submit to husbands who treat them with contempt or scorn or who fail to value them as a sister of and in Christ.

Yet, if the husband does represent the character of Christ, the wife is to submit. What might such submission mean? I suspect that both the husband and the wife would discover that they are impressively liberated from petty disputes and needless arguments. They would discover that their joint identity as one flesh before God would flower into the deepest possible love and appreciation for each other. In losing themselves in each other they would discover who they are.

Husbands and wives living together in grace are mutual heirs of the Kingdom of God. They share mutual equality and mutual dignity as co-inheritors of God’s reign. They live in mutual humility under God's grace. They share a mutual destiny in the fullness of God’s life and in the coming, but ever-present, reign of God.

The foremost obligation of a married man is not to be a better husband; it is to be a better man. Our task is to be recreated men, transformed, and reformed in the image and likeness of Christ. No husband has any right to expect his wife to submit to him until he has submitted to the Lordship of Jesus Christ and begun to move on to perfection.

The chief task of married women is not to be better wives but to be better women. Women are called to the transformation of their persons and character in the likeness of Christ. No woman can be a Christlike wife who is not a Christlike woman.

The French have a saying, “The heart has its reasons that reason does not know.” Within the Christian faith is a series of mysteries:

▸     Whoever will save his life must lose it.

▸     Jesus died but still lives.

▸     The kingdom of God has not yet been established, but it is among us now.

▸     Jesus ascended into heaven but the body of Christ is on earth as the church.

It is part of the maturing of faith to accept these mysteries as perhaps unfathomable to reason, but knowable to the heart and spirit. Our faith has its reasons that reason does not know. A mystery of God cannot be explained; we can only encounter God in it.

We are called to have Christlike marriages. Within the Christlike marriage are other mysteries: The two will become one. Leadership means sacrificial servanthood. Submission means liberation. In this mystery of marriage the husband and wife will encounter God and love one another most fully.

My tips for husbands and wives:

Commit yourselves first of all to Christ and the kingdom of God.

Then jointly submit your marriage to his Lordship; make it an anniversary ritual.

It is the husband’s responsibility to keep the romance alive. Continue to court your wife!

Do not have a child-centered marriage for when the kids are gone you’ve got what?

Enduring marriages are not automatic. They result from choices each spouse makes throughout.

Don’t let problems fester. But also agree on an expiration date.

Pray together: pray with each other and pray for one another.

---

[1] http://judaism.about.com/od/weddings/a/all_marriage.htm

[2] Galatians 3:28

A Litany for Fathers Day

Leader: For fathers everywhere, who have given us life and love, that we may show them respect and love.

People: Holy God, hear this prayer for our fathers.

Leader: For fathers who have lost a child through death, that their faith may give them hope, and their family and friends support and console them

People: Holy God, hear this prayer for our fathers that mourn.

For men who may or may not have children of their own, but act like a father to someone in need of advice, support, nurturing, and love.

Holy God, hear this prayer for our father figures.

For stepfathers who have assumed that role with love and joy, who have loved the children of another as their own and created a new family.

Holy God, hear this prayer for stepfathers.

For adoptive fathers, who have heard the call of God to lovingly step forward for those that need their care.

Holy God, hear this prayer for adoptive fathers.

For fathers who have been unable to be a source of strength, who have not responded to the needs of their children and have not sustained their families.

Holy God, have mercy on absentee fathers.

For fathers who struggle with temptation, violence, or addiction. For those who do harm, and for those whom they have harmed.

Holy God, have mercy on fathers that struggle.

For new fathers, full of hope. For long-time fathers, full of wisdom. For the fathers yet to be, and fathers soon to be.

Holy God, hear our prayer for the fathers of your Church.

For those that have shaped our lives without claim of family or kinship. For those who have taught us, guided us, shaped us and molded us into servants of Christ our Lord.

Holy God, hear our prayer for the fathers of our faith. Amen.

Jesus is served

John 6.5-14

When he looked up and saw a large crowd coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?” He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he was going to do. 

Philip answered him, "Six months wages would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little.” One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?” 

Jesus said, “Make the people sit down.” Now there was a great deal of grass in the place; so they sat down, about five thousand in all. Then Jesus took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated; so also the fish, as much as they wanted. When they were satisfied, he told his disciples, “Gather up the fragments left over, so that nothing may be lost.” 

So they gathered them up, and from the fragments of the five barley loaves, left by those who had eaten, they filled twelve baskets. When the people saw the sign that he had done, they began to say, “This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world.”

I will never forget the miracles one day as I was standing almost right next to Jesus. I was just a young lad then, but I recall them vividly.

King Herod had just executed John the Baptist, Jesus' cousin. So, Jesus came to our area, which was out of Herod’s jurisdiction. One day a huge crowd followed Jesus out to the countryside. My father and mother and I were early arrivals, getting space up front. We could hear Jesus talking to his disciples before everyone was assembled.

I had heard that Jesus was a miracle worker. I could not have told you what a miracle was for a hundred shekels of silver. But I know now. I saw miracles before my eyes when I went with my father one day to the countryside to hear Jesus of Nazareth speak. There was an enormous crowd, my father said at least five thousand.

The people kept streaming up. After a while, Jesus said to a disciple (Philip, I learned later), “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?”

Philip glanced at Jesus with alarm. “Where are we going to buy bread!” he stammered. “When did it become our responsibility to feed these people?”

Jesus just sort of gazed at Philip with the same expression on his face that my father gave me when I had said or done something particularly stupid. Philip saw it and glanced at the ground, chastened. But he still spoke. “Six months’ wages would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little.”

Jesus said nothing but turned to look at the crowd. After a few minutes Jesus preached to us. I don’t recall all he said. It was a long time ago. Years later, I learned what Jesus taught in the Sermon on the Mount. What he said in the countryside that day was much like that.

It was the miracles that have stayed with me.

My father looked intently at Jesus as he spoke, almost as if he’d never heard anyone preach about God and justice and charity and forgiveness and love and mercy and good deeds and … well, a lot of things. My mother was sitting near me and she was also fixed on what Jesus was saying.

“Bear one another’s burdens,” I remember Jesus said, “for this is how you fulfill God’s commandments. Love the Lord your God with all your soul and all your mind and all your strength and love your neighbor as yourself. This is the greatest commandment. Do not return evil for evil, but for everyone who hates you, love them in return. Pray for those who wish you harm, love your enemies, and do good to those who wrong you.” Here he paused and looked frankly rather impishly around while a grin crossed his face, “For in doing this it will be as Proverbs says, like bringing heaps of coals upon their heads!”

The crowd roared at that, my mother and father included. I saw many people clap their hands and nod in agreement. “That’s right!” many exclaimed. “The prophets taught all this, too!”

Before long Jesus stopped preaching and walked into the crowd. Now I understood why so many people had come out. Many were sick, ill, or injured. Parents had brought children for Jesus to bless; some of the children were ill, too. Lame people wanted to walk again normally.

Jesus had great compassion for them. He prayed with most, blessed many, reproved some (but not harshly) and cured many. I knew as I watched that Jesus was a holy man.

By now the sun was getting low. Some of the disciples came to Jesus and said softly (though several of us heard), “This is open country and there is nothing here. It’s getting late. Send this crowd away to the local villages so they can buy themselves some food.”

Jesus said to them, “They don’t need to go anywhere. You give them something to eat.”

At that the disciples looked at each other uneasily. They didn’t know what to say. Well, neither did I. One of them looked at me and I knew he’d must have seen me earlier re-wrapping the bread and fish my mother had given me to carry. I started to push it behind me but it was too late.

The disciple turned to Jesus and said, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?” 

I could not believe my ears. What did I have to do with their debate? I looked quickly at my mother, who was frowning. I glanced up at my father. He stood with pursed lips and narrowed eyes.

Jesus may be special, I thought, but his disciples aren’t so great. Jesus had handed them a problem and they just ducked it, then tried to hand it off on me, a kid!

Jesus shook his head a little. Then he looked at me with a very kind, indeed, hopeful expression on his face. I stopped trying to hide the five loaves and two fish. Jesus held out his hand toward me, then looked at my father and mother. He said nothing but his face showed hopeful expectation. I saw something else, too. I saw the face of someone I could trust.

Without waiting for my father’s permission, I placed the food bundle in Jesus’ hand. He smiled broadly and squeezed my shoulder. He turned to his disciples and said, “Make the people sit down.”

It took a few minutes. With everyone sitting, they could all see Jesus as he stood. He raised a loaf of bread toward heaven and gave thanks for it, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to his disciples. Then he gave them the fish.

The disciples stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Jesus still had a loaf in his hand. He took two steps toward me and gave it to me. I held it for a moment, unsure of what to do myself. Then, hesitatingly, I tore off a piece of bread and handed the loaf to my mother. She took a piece and handed it to my father.

I could see my father was torn. Jesus had no permission from him to confiscate that bread. It was dad’s property, and he had the right to keep it. He looked at Jesus, but Jesus had stepped to the other side of the disciples while they imitated what Jesus had done, giving the bread to the people.

My father shook his head slightly. He really didn’t know what to do. Well, what he wanted to do was not what he knew he should do. He said aloud, talking to no one in particular, “You remember what Jesus said? ‘Whoever has some will be given abundantly more, but whoever does not have much will have even that little taken from them’.”

My father tore off a piece of bread and passed the loaf to the man sitting nearby. This man took it and stared at my father. The other man said, “What did he mean by that?”

My father paused, then said, “I think he meant that in God’s kingdom, we will not get unless we give. If we don’t give, then God take from us even what little we have.”

The other man said, “That’s why you’ve given me your bread.” Then he turned toward the next family and gave the bread to them. “Here, take this. We brought bread, too, but hid it because we wanted it for ourselves.” He motioned to his wife who reached under the folds of her robe and took out four or five round loaves. She and her husband kept one and passed the others to their neighbors.

I looked around, stunned to see the same thing happening everywhere. People were laughing, some were crying, all were at peace with one another. Indeed, we were all filled with joy! And all around, hands disappeared beneath robes or into backpacks and reappeared with loaves of bread and perhaps some smoked fish.

My mother and father and I came out on the short end because no one offered us any of their food. We had to make do with just the single piece of bread we’d each tore off to begin with. This bothered me a little but it was not possible to stay upset with such spirit all around.

After some time, Jesus told his disciples, “Gather up the leftovers, so that nothing may be lost.”

The disciples picked up a large basket each and went among the people, telling what Jesus had said. Few demurred. The baskets were filled by the time they finished. I laughed at how the disciples had to lug those heavy baskets back to Jesus!

Jesus took a wicker plate and filled it with bread and fish. Then he stepped over to me and handed it to me. It was a big heap of food! Then he gave another plateful each to my mother and father.

At that I heard someone call out, “This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world!”

Jesus’ teachings became suddenly clear. In the Kingdom of God another’s joys become our laughter, another’s pain becomes our tears. One who is naked wears our clothes. One who is hungry eats our food. The Kingdom of God is a sort of spiritual cooperative. When we serve our neighbor in need, we will be served when we need it. When the love of God goes from us, it comes back to us.

Five loaves of bread and two fish. What no one thought would be adequate for God’s work turned out to be far more than enough. A banquet was served that day, a banquet of life and love and grace, almost more than the disciples could carry.

Here are the miracles I saw that day: people’s hearts were changed, barriers were broken, generosity flowered, and we loved one another. Jesus gave to us, and it was Jesus we gave one another. If those are not miracles, nothing is!

Are you hungry? Go to Jesus’ table as we did, for it is Jesus being served. And there is no greater miracle than that!

Pentecost - Filled with New Wine

Acts 2:1-21

1 When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place.  2 And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting.  3 Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them.  4 All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.

5 Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem.  6 And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each.  7 Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans?  8 And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language?  9 Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia,  10 Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes,  11 Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.”  12 All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?”  13 But others sneered and said, “They are filled with new wine.”

14 But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, “Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say.  15 Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning.  16 No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel:

17 ‘In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.

 18 Even upon my slaves, both men and women, in those days I will pour out my Spirit; and they shall prophesy.  19 And I will show portents in the heaven above and signs on the earth below, blood, and fire, and smoky mist.

 20 The sun shall be turned to darkness and the moon to blood, before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day.  21 Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’

Pentecost was a Jewish celebration long before it was a Christian one. It was one of the designations of the Feast of Weeks, which came after Passover. In Jesus’ day, Pentecost was a time to renew the covenant God made with Noah. This festival day seems to be the reason the disciples gathered in one place. They were good Jews and wanted to observe the holy day.

Jesus had ascended to heaven, leaving his disciples behind. He had told them that God would give them a great gift after he departed. Jesus had indicated it would be the Holy Spirit. Sometimes we hear that the Holy Spirit was not among human beings until the day of Pentecost, but that’s not the case. The spirit of God moved over the surface of the waters, says Genesis. Ezekiel and Isaiah both spoke of the Spirit, as did the Psalmist. Of course, Peter spoke of the Holy Spirit when he quoted the book of Joel in his sermon in our passage.

So the disciples were waiting for something to happen, but they didn’t know exactly what or when. The Scriptures don’t tell us what they were actually doing just before the Spirit hit them. Of course, what matters is not what they were doing before, but what they did after.

What would we have seen if we had we been present on the day of Pentecost? The Scriptures say there was a sound like the rush of a violent wind and “divided tongues, as of fire,” which rested on each of them.

In the Old Testament the word for wind and the word for spirit are the same. Was it the wind of God, the breath of God, or the spirit of God which moved over the surface of the deep as Genesis opens? Take your pick, the word for all of them is the same.

So this wind that Acts tells of isn’t just some brisk breeze, maybe not even something that the disciples felt muss up their hair. They heard something that sounded like wind, but wasn’t necessarily something you could fly a kite in.

One thing we know about both wind and fire, though. They are both energy. Fire spreads quickly when pushed by the wind. And maybe that’s what Acts is trying to say happened on that day of Pentecost: The Spirit of God pushed into the disciples as irresistibly a strong wind, and the fire of God set them ablaze with apostolic fervor. And their message spread quickly, like a wind-driven wildfire out of control. Just a few verses later, we are told that three thousand people were baptized into Christian discipleship that day. I imagine poor Peter and the other apostles were just about exhausted when they finally went to bed that night. And ever since, the church has counted Pentecost as its birthday.

The immediate effect of these tongues, as of fire, was that the Jews from every nation who were in Jerusalem heard the gospel being proclaimed in their own language. The passage lists about seventeen different languages, ranging from Latin to Arabic. It was such a babbling mess that some onlookers sneered and accused the apostles and others of being filled with new wine.

Now, there’s an interesting image: filled with new wine. New wine was a metaphor Jesus had used. Luke 5 records that some Pharisees complained that Jesus ate and drank with tax collectors and sinners. Jesus answered them, "Those who are healthy don't need a doctor. Sick people do. I have not come to get those who think they are right with God to follow me. I have come to get sinners to turn away from their sins."

Then some other people present chimed in that Jesus’ disciples were not properly pious – they didn’t pray enough or fast. Jesus answered, “No one pours new wine into old wineskins. If they do, the new wine will burst the skins. The wine will run out, and the wineskins will be destroyed. No, new wine must be poured into new wineskins. After people drink old wine, they don't want the new. They say, 'The old wine is better.' "

I knew a master welder who told me that he would not take on as apprentices someone who already knew how to weld. “Too many bad habits,” he explained. In the same way, Jesus was explaining that he chose disciples who had not already been ruined by the church – I mean by the Pharisees. People who are complacent in their religion, who have become comfortably numb and self-satisfied in orderly routines of religion, are poor candidates for revival and effective discipleship.

The Pentecost scoffers are absolutely right, then, that the disciples and others are filled with new wine, though not for the reason they think. Peter caught on to their insult right away. He jumped up and threw their mockery right back at them: “Hey, we’re not drunk! It’s only nine in the morning!” I bet that got a laugh, because the unspoken implication is that they might get drunk later—say, about the same time the scoffers would. Peter turned their mockery into a joke, got the crowd on his side and proceeded to give the first recorded sermon by a follower of Jesus Christ.

Peter’s whole sermon is about being filled with new wine. Not fruit of the vine, but spiritual power by the blood of Christ, shed for all for the forgiveness of sins. We use wine in remembrance of Christ’s blood every time we share communion. We come to the Lord’s table asking for God to pour out the Holy Spirit on all of us gathered here. And in faith we believe God does. Every communion is a little Pentecost, when we are filled with new wine and the Holy Spirit.

So Peter talks about a new thing in the world. The spirit shall be poured out on both men and women. Young and old shall receive this new wine; they shall prophesy and dream dreams of divine revelation. Creation itself will give witness to the grand things God is doing to save all humanity and all who call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.

A fellow named Bud Ogle is a church worker in Chicago. One year, the evening before Easter Day, Bud saw a cluster of women standing on a street corner. Normally only prostitutes and drug pushers worked the streets that time of night, yet these women did not appear to be either. He got closer and recognized two of them, regular attendees at his church.

The women told him, “We’re reclaiming this street corner for God. We’re taking it back from the drug dealers.” Spontaneously, they had decided to stand vigil against the forces of evil in the neighborhood.

A few hours later, during the Easter sunrise service, seven people spoke, three of them newly recovering addicts. “I was good as dead,” said one. “Now, with the help of Jesus and all of you, I’m coming back to life.”

Why is it that it seems that drug addicts or prostitutes or persons with similar dysfunctions are apparently the only ones who realize that they are good as dead if something isn’t done? Listen, we are all as good as dead unless we are filled with the new wine of Jesus Christ!

Gosh, wouldn’t it be great if one Sunday during our worship service some people going thought that we were all drunk, even though it’s only ten-thirty in the morning? Maybe they’d pull in and ask, “Hey, what’s with you people?” And we’d answer, “We’re filled with new wine!” – the new wine of Jesus Christ, the new life in Jesus Christ, because of the blood he shed for our sake. 

If you go to Jerusalem today you can visit the Upper Room, where Jesus instituted the Lord’s Supper with his disciples. You can visit the court where Pilate sentenced him to death and walk the route Jesus carried his cross to Golgotha. Yet the room where the events of this passage took place is unknown. There is a tradition that these events took place in the Upper Room, but the Bible does not say that.

Why is the place of this day lost to history? I think it is because there was nothing about the location that was significant. The significance was what happened, not where.

Something amazing happen to a group of quite ordinary people. They had their nostalgic memories of the past (“Remember when Jesus fed the five thousand? Those were the good old days”). Then they were jerked into the future, to bring it about by work in the present life of the world. When the Holy Spirit hit them, it hit them all together, at the same time, and it blew them right out of their meeting room into the mean streets of Jerusalem and the world.

It was the transformation of a group of folks newly given something ultimate to do, to tell the entire world about Life. And they were given the ability and power to do it, the power of the Holy Spirit.

For this reason, perhaps, the place of Pentecost is unknown. The apostles did not end the day by hanging a sign out front that said, "Holy Spirit come here Sundays, join us." They carried the Good News out into the world. They did not expect the world to come to them.

If we believe that the great days of the Church are in the past, then we must also believe that the great work of Christ’s sustainment is waning. What happened on Pentecost can happen again—here and now—when we are willing to be picked up, possessed of God, and be used as God’s instruments, when we are willing to set aside the pleasures and profits of the secular world so we can be instruments of God’s love and witnesses to Christ’s salvation.

On these Sundays when we are together in one place, God comes into our lives to renew our redemption and our redemptive purpose, to heal our wounds and sustain us in our community of faith. God sends us to carry each other’s burdens, to meet one another’s difficulties, to encourage one another. God calls us to live above mundane things and to rise above despair and anxiety. God calls us to God’s self, to seek God’s face in our hearts and the hearts of others. So we meet together. May the Holy Spirit rest on us and send us out of the church as witnesses into the streets where we live and work.

Let us pray to hear a sound like rushing wind and be visited by tongues as of fire. If the Lord chooses to bless us with a new Pentecost, then may he blow us out of our comfort zones and away from the old and familiar so that we, like the apostles, will go into the world with the Good News of Christ Jesus.

Disclosure

Luke 24, verses 13 thru 34 tell of a man named Cleopas walking to the town of Emmaus, near Jerusalem, accompanied by an unnamed companion. It is the Sunday of Jesus’ resurrection, which they had heard about. A man came along and asked them what they were talking about. Cleopas told the man about Jesus and his death on a cross and some women who had gone to Jesus’ tomb only to learn that Jesus was alive again. 

Then the man delivers a postgraduate-level explanation of the ministry, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Cleopas and companion are impressed and invite the man to have dinner with them. He does, and during the meal Cleopas and companion suddenly recognize the man as the risen Christ. But suddenly, he vanished from their sight. Here is the passage:

13 Now that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem. 14 They were talking with each other about everything that had happened. 15 As they talked and discussed these things with each other, Jesus himself came up and walked along with them; 16 but they were kept from recognizing him.

17 He asked them, “What are you discussing together as you walk along?”

They stood still, their faces downcast. 18 One of them, named Cleopas, asked him, “Are you the only one visiting Jerusalem who does not know the things that have happened there in these days?”

19 “What things?” he asked.

“About Jesus of Nazareth,” they replied. “He was a prophet, powerful in word and deed before God and all the people. 20 The chief priests and our rulers handed him over to be sentenced to death, and they crucified him; 21 but we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel. And what is more, it is the third day since all this took place. 22 In addition, some of our women amazed us. They went to the tomb early this morning 23 but didn’t find his body. They came and told us that they had seen a vision of angels, who said he was alive. 24 Then some of our companions went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but they did not see Jesus.”

25 He said to them, “How foolish you are, and how slow to believe all that the prophets have spoken! 26 Did not the Messiah have to suffer these things and then enter his glory?” 27 And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself.

28 As they approached the village to which they were going, Jesus continued on as if he were going farther. 29 But they urged him strongly, “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening; the day is almost over.” So he went in to stay with them.

30 When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him, and he disappeared from their sight. 32 They asked each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?”

33 They got up and returned at once to Jerusalem. There they found the Eleven and those with them, assembled together 34 and saying, “It is true! The Lord has risen and has appeared to Simon.” 35 Then the two told what had happened on the way, and how Jesus was recognized by them when he broke the bread.

What does this story tell us about recognizing Jesus? It is a disclosure, yes, but to what end? And to what effect? Do such appearances happen today? 

I want to read from verse 30 again: 

When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed it and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight.      

They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” 

That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. They were saying, “The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread. 

Supper at Emmaus, by Caravaggio, 1601

The basic outline of the story is pretty simple: two people were walking on the first Easter morning to a village called Emmaus, a few miles from Jerusalem. As they went, the resurrected Jesus came up and started to walk with them, but the two travelers didn’t recognize him. They are surprised that this stranger doesn’t appear to know what’s happened in Jerusalem the last few days. They tell the stranger about the prophet, Jesus of Nazareth. But then the stranger takes over and explains the significance of the events they related.

Sometime during this discourse, the hearts of Cleopas and his companion (probably his wife Mary) began to burn within them, but we don’t learn that until later. Later they stop for the night and invite the stranger to have dinner with them. The man took the bread, blessed the bread, broke the bread, and gave it to them. It was then that Mr. and Mrs. Cleopas recognized him. They suddenly know that they are in the Presence of the risen Christ. This kind of experience is called “epiphany.” It means manifestation. But the moment was fleeting, and Jesus vanished from their sight.

What shall we make of the stories of the risen Christ appearing? What do the stories mean and how literally do they describe what happened? 

Probably almost everyone here recognizes the reference in today’s passage to the sacrament of Holy Communion. Jesus took bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to them. That is the heart of Eucharistic meal. All but one or two of the resurrection-appearance stories in the gospels include some reference either to baptism or communion. For example, the angels the women see at the empty tomb are clothed in white robes. We know from early church records that people being baptized in the early church were clothed in white robes as a sign of their new life in Christ. In John’s Gospel Jesus calls the disciples from the shore while they were out fishing in a boat. They join him on the shore where Jesus prepared bread and fish for them. We don’t use smoked fish in Communion - thank goodness! - but a few early Christian communities did. The practice did not last, though, for which I am grateful. 

The problem with these stories is not that they were written down twenty years or more after the events they relate. There is no problem that the appearance stories reinforce the sacramental practice of the very early church. No, the problem I have with the appearance stories is that nothing like them happened to Paul, and yet the other apostles all accepted Paul’s claim that the risen Lord had appeared to him. 

I am imagining a conversation between Peter, the other apostles, and Paul in Jerusalem. Peter says to Paul, “After Jesus was crucified to death, he appeared to all of us in a closed room and held out his hands so we could see the nail holes and showed us the scar in his side where the Roman soldier had stabbed him. Then one day some of us were fishing and we saw him on the shore, so we had breakfast with him. He cooked us some bread and fish and gave them to us. So tell us how Christ appeared to you.” 

Paul replies, “Well, I was traveling one day to Damascus. On the road I saw a brilliant flash of light that blinded me. Then a voice from mid-air spoke to me. The voice said it was Jesus, and I should follow him.”

Peter looks at Matthew. Matthew looks at James, and they all look at Thomas, who had demanded to touch Jesus’ wounds to be convinced. Thomas says, “Yep, that was Jesus, all right.” “Sure thing,” agree James and Matthew. “Yes indeed,” says Peter. 

Why would the other apostles accept Paul’s story as authentic, when their experiences of the risen Christ were so very different? I can only conclude that the form of the appearances was not very important. What counted was their content and what difference it made in the ones who saw Christ.  

When the New Testament speaks of appearances of the risen Lord, the word translated as “appeared” is better translated as “was disclosed.” It means to become profoundly aware of something. The means of disclosure is through the senses. There really is something “out there,” but the power of the disclosure is internal, what happens within the one who sees or hears. 

“Disclosure” describes a sensory perception through which the disciples discerned the God-given truth that Christ was still alive. Was dead, is now alive – what could that be but resurrection? Consider also that the three-dimensional embodiment of the risen Christ, such as at the empty tomb and the lakeshore, is absent from all the apostles’ letters. Peter’s sermon at Pentecost did not say that he had eaten fish with the risen Christ. Peter instead said that Christ was raised up to sit on his heavenly throne, exalted to the right hand of God. Such descriptions are hardly fleshly. They seem visionary interpretations. 

What exactly was perceived in each appearance the New Testament relates is not clear, nor even indicated in all cases. On the Damascus road, it seemed like a lightning flash. This flash was an objective reality since Paul’s companions saw it, too. But Paul understood more than his senses perceived. It is there that disclosure resides.

For the Cleopases, the resurrection was at first only a rumor. But its possibility fascinated them. They talked about it at length and discussed all the details they had learned. Within these discussions was a restlessness to find rest in God. They didn’t know exactly what to believe, but they deeply hoped for God to be alive and present. Yet they failed to recognize the stranger who walked beside them. 

Pastor Susan Andrews wrote, 

On Sunday mornings in contemporary America, modern disciples come through the church door weighed down by cynicism, stress, pretense, power. They are sophisticated lawyers and skeptical scientists and shell-shocked journalists – skilled practitioners in the seductions of the world, but nervous novices in the realm of the Spirit. They, like the first disciples, yearn for the living presence of God. But they are too preoccupied, suspicious, too busy actually to recognize God. In their objective world of fact and truth and matter and money, the church’s world of mystery and meaning and risk and relationship seems silly. And so they are eager to discuss and debate the idea of God, but unprepared to experience or recognize the presence of God.” 

In the novel The River Why, there is a fisherman named Gus who lives on the Oregon coast. Gus’s full name is Augustine, after St. Augustine, a towering figure of the Church who wrote one of the most influential books in western history, The Confessions of St. Augustine. In it, Saint Augustine told how he sought truth and met a Christian named Ambrose. Ambrose’s witness changed Augustine’s life. Augustine saw life as a journey and wrote, “We are made restless until we rest in Thee.”

Gus is a seeker, too. Gus is seeking God, even though he doesn’t know it. One night he's talking to another fisherman named Nick, whom he respects. Nick becomes for Gus what Ambrose was for Augustine. He leads him to God.

Nick told him that when he was a young man working the deck on a boat in the North Sea, he had left his safety line unattached. A wave swept him into the freezing water. Just as he was going under, a fisherman on the boat threw him a line with a large hook on its end. Nick’s hands were so frozen that he could not manipulate the hook into his clothing. About to drown, he grasped the hook in one hand and jammed it through the other. Then he passed out. He awoke on the deck, safe. 

He told Gus, “I knew that I had been born anew. Nothing will ever be the same again.” He showed Gus the scar on his hand and said, “Behold, son. Behold the sign of the fisherman’s love for a wooden headed fool.” 

Gus couldn’t sleep that night. He kept hearing Nick’s story over and over again. He felt things that he had never felt before, and he knew those things were from the soul.

Gus got up very early and walked up the mountain behind his cabin. As he was walking along the mountaintop the morning sunlight suddenly broke over the mountain ridge across the valley, shining an almost unbearably brilliant light into the darkness. He felt a chill start in his thighs, go up his spine, to the top of his head. He felt the sense of a Presence. “It was,” he said, “as though an unseen, oldest, longest-lost friend had come to walk the road beside me.”

Disclosure.

I cannot tell you how to have your own disclosure. Epiphany moments are gifts of the Spirit, and as the Gospel of John says, the Spirit, like the wind, blows where it will. But epiphanies are not what validate our Christian discipleship, anyway. At the end of a day long ago in Jerusalem, the nature of Paul’s conversion experience seemed not to have been important to the other apostles. They confirmed Paul in the faith because he was a changed man. They accepted Paul as their brother because they could see that the work he was doing was the work of Christ. 

As soon as Cleopas and his companion recognized the risen Lord, he disappeared from their sight. God’s presence is often elusive, fleeting, dancing at the edge of our awareness. God’s boldest presence is still mysterious and transitory. We perceive God’s presence in fleeting moments, and then the mundane closes in again. The reports of Christ’s life and presence may seem an idle tale to some, but to those who have witnessed God’s transcendent presence they are a transforming reality. Cleopas and companion would never see Christ like that again, but it would not matter, for their lives were permanently transformed.

Christ is alive! Christ is present! That is our witness.

What do we disclose? More importantly, whom do we reveal? When the world sees us, do they see Jesus disclosed by and revealed through us?

The case for Christ in 16 minutes

 If it is not true, it is of no importance. If it is true, it is of supreme importance.