|
Sermon
Sunday, July 31, 2005
The Reverend Pamela P. Snare
" .....the disciples came to [Jesus] and said, '… send the crowds away
so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.' Jesus
said to them, 'They need not go away; you give them something to eat.’
They replied, 'We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish.'"
(Matthew 13:15-16)
I have recounted, in a prior sermon, part of the story of the meal that I
prepared for twenty seven Benedictine sisters at the monastery in Normandy
where I lived as a Benedictine for a month last September, while on
sabbatical. But what I failed to tell you about was the struggle and the
difficulty I had in coming up with what to prepare for dessert.
Jerry and I made a conscious decision not to take any recipes with us on
sabbatical. It was part of our spiritual discipline to try to take only
what we thought was absolutely necessary--books and clothes -- and to
trust God to provide for us. You must understand that this was a big
decision for us, since we always take a folder of recipes with us on
vacation. And we were going to be away not for one month, but for three.
So, I had to rely totally on my memory in everything that I was going to
prepare for the sisters. Cake? I had no cake recipe in my memory, except
an Amaretto cheesecake. And what would be the French equivalent of cream
cheese? Pie? I had no pie recipe in my memory. Chocolate mousse? Well,
that was a French dessert and this was supposed to be an American meal. I
was at a loss. I kept going over desserts in my mind and I kept coming up
with zero.
For two weeks, Sister Sarah and I had been meeting for my daily session of
spiritual direction with her on the hill that runs the length of the
monastery and overlooks it. At the top of the hill is a dense forest, and
we would perch ourselves on an old iron and wood bench right beside the
forest, with a commanding view of the valley of the Bec river in front of
us. I went up the hill early that day, praying God to bring something to
me for dessert. Jostle my memory, delve into its depths, bring something
to the forefront of my mind. I brought every little thing to prayer, into
God's presence. It wasn't a conscious decision, it just happened.
I sat gazing over the valley, trying to allow my mind to be free and
unconstricted, banishing anxiety, so that the Spirit of God could have
free and unrestricted access to my consciousness. I noticed something
unusual out of the corner of my right eye. I cannot to this day tell you
what it was or exactly why I was prompted to turn to my right and look at
the forest beside me. But I did. And when I looked at the forest, the
trees were hanging, covered, with black, shiny, succulent wild
blackberries. More wild blackberries than I had ever seen in my life, and
I used to pick them as a child in North Carolina. Not just beside me, but
running the entire length of the hill, was a wall of glistening
blackberries. "Cobbler,” I thought. "I can make that from memory. Wild
blackberry cobbler with vanilla ice cream. There are enough blackberries
here to make 10,000 cobblers!"
Profusion, abundance, excess, luxury. "Only God," I thought, "only God
could provide so much over and above and beyond your needs or anyone’s
needs." In addition to offering a prayer of thanksgiving, I had two
revelations or epiphanies. One, this is like the multiplication of loaves.
Jesus didn't just give the people a snack to assuage their hunger until
they could go away and get food. They all ate until they were satisfied
and there were twelve baskets left over. Like the blackberries, there was
much more than 5,000 men (besides women and children) or twenty seven
sisters could consume. With God there are always leftovers; with God there
is always more than enough.
Secondly, "Pamela, why do you, and why do so many people, ever doubt God's
provision? Why do you doubt his goodness? Why are you ever afraid? Why are
you ever anxious? Why do you think in terms of not having enough? When you
simply acknowledge your poverty and bring it to him, he makes it work. He
doesn't just make it work, he brings more than you can ask or imagine. He
surpasses your dreams, your expectations, your desires."
"The disciples said to Jesus, 'Send the crowds away to get something to
eat.' He said, 'You give them something to eat.' They replied, 'We only
have five loaves and two fish.' "
What do you think of as your scarcity? Money, time, gifts, abilities? How
do you think of yourself as poor, as lacking, as having so little of it
that God can do nothing with it? As not being worth offering because it is
so little, so insignificant it cannot begin to meet the need? That, my
friends, is how the disciples were thinking. They didn't even offer their
five loaves and two fish to Jesus for him to use because they thought it
wasn't enough. And it wasn't enough as long as they kept it to themselves.
It wasn't enough as long as they didn't think about giving it to him,
bringing it to him to see what he would do with it. It wasn't greed. They
just didn't think it was enough, so they didn't offer it to him to use.
No, it wasn't greed at all. It was a fundamental lack of trust that
however little or however much we have, God can and will use it, and will
not only use it, but multiply it, magnify it beyond what we can desire or
imagine -- if we offer it in his service and according to his purpose.
This fundamental mistrust is echoed in our psalm this morning: "[The
people] railed against God and said, 'Can God set a table in the
wilderness?'" You betcha He can. He did it in the wilderness of Sinai for
40 years; he did it at a deserted place in Galilee; he did it in the
valley of the Bec river last September.
How often do you feel inadequate, or lacking in resources of time, or
money, or gifts, or abilities when you find yourself in the situation of
another's need or another's request? This happens to me on a regular
basis, indeed, I would say almost daily.
Try an experiment. When your first response to another's need or another's
request is, "No way. I cannot do it. I do not have the time, or the money,
or the gifts or the ability or the interior resources”; if you find
yourself saying, like the disciples in today’s gospel, "Lord, send them
away," then maybe you need to take some time and listen for whether Jesus
is saying to you, "You give them something to eat."
Bring the request or the situation into the presence of God. Ask, "What is
pleasing to you, Lord? What would gladden your heart?" Look deeply inside
of yourself; tell him your fears, your reservations, and tell him the
reasons for them. Surrender your unwillingness, your resistance, your
fear, in order to be open to his will and purpose for you. Empty yourself
of any emotional or intellectual investment one way or the other. Let the
most important thing to you be what is pleasing to him, and trust that if
you are to do it, he will give you what you need to accomplish it. Allow
yourself to be open and accepting of wherever he leads, whatever he shows
you. Acknowledge your poverty and ask for his help. If prompting in a
certain direction or clarity doesn't come, keep bringing the situation or
the request into his presence and wait and listen and pay attention.
This way is better, my friends, than saying either no or yes too hastily.
Because it acknowledges that everything that comes into our lives is not
by accident or chance, whether it be good or bad. God does not willingly
afflict or grieve his children, but God can and does use even our bad
experiences, even our failures, as opportunities for our growth and his
saving grace for others.
Bringing all situations or requests, good or bad, into God's presence
trains us in making our lives an offering to him. It trains us in learning
to trust. It trains us in accepting his will and his work for us. It shows
and teaches us what it means to be blessed; how to live in poverty of
spirit, and yet be filled. It acquaints us with God's abundance, and
goodness, and excess.
Several months ago I wrote Sister Sarah about a new adult formation
program which begins this fall, and of which I am in charge. It already
has been and will be a lot of work. It already has required and will
require a lot of time. She wrote to me, "When I received the newsletter of
Christ Church which spoke [of this program] for the first time, my heart
received a profound joy...I took that as a great sign of the condescension
of God for you...When I read what you wrote [in your letter about this
program], and the fact that the parish decided to begin it during your
absence, and that you are charged with its oversight, my joy was
increased. Yes, I think that the hand of God is at work in all of this.
Certainly, it will demand much work of you, but do not fret over that.
Take it as an affair of God, a gift that he has put into your hands, and
which is for his glory."
You see, my friends, the more we bring the situations of our lives into
the presence of God, the more we begin to discern his hand at work. He can
take our five loaves and two fish and feed a multitude--more than we can
hope for or envision. His will and work for us is not necessarily easy,
but it brings joy, abundant joy, to us and to others. And his will and his
work for us feeds the world with the bread of God's mercy and goodness,
his abundance and peace. And nothing in this world can gladden the heart
of God, or our hearts, more than that. AMEN.
Return to Recent Sermons |