Community Church Sermons
August
3, 2008
Pentecost 12
Gen. 32:22-31
Matthew 14:13-21
Rev. Rhonda A. Blevins
Listen to this Sermon!
Last week was my
favorite week of the year! You know why? It was “Shark Week” on the Discovery
Channel! Hours upon hours of shark tales for me to enjoy. You might be
wondering why I enjoy Shark Week so much, so let me tell you. I once swam with
sharks. My husband and I like to scuba dive, and the last dive I went on off
the coast of North Carolina, we encountered maybe a dozen, maybe 1,500 sharks.
One in particular came right up beside me (20 yards) and said “hello.” As I was
lingering there, some 70 feet under water looking into the eyes of a sand tiger
shark, the most interesting thing about that encounter was the fact that I felt
no fear. Just a sense of awe and
wonder. I knew the statistics and
realized the probability of getting killed by that shark were small; I also
knew there are exceptions to the norm and realized that this predator had the
power to kill me. But there I was,
looking a predator in the eye, unafraid. Why? Faith! (Or perhaps stupidity . . . but I like to think it was faith.)
Now, in that
moment I didn’t articulate the details, but in looking back, I think I had
faith that regardless of what happened, it would all work out. If the shark
killed me, I would soon be in heaven and my husband would enjoy the life
insurance policy. If he maimed me, well, God would see me though that as well.
And then I’d have a REALLY good sermon illustration!
When you analyze
this story, the only way I would be 100% sure to avoid a shark attack would be
to never get in the ocean. Just like
the only way to be 100% sure you’re never in a car accident is to never ride
with Tim Meadows, or to ever get in a car at all. The only way to never have
your heart broken is to never love.
There are many,
many ways in life that we can find certainty, but the cost of that certainty is
often entirely too high. Thank God for the risk-takers! Thank God for those who
have risked loving us even though we might fail them or even die on them. Thank God for those who have risked their
lives, some even lost their lives that we might live in freedom. Life is risky
business, and to live fully we must take some risks.
What does this
have to do with our scriptures today . . . with Jacob wrestling with God or
Jesus feeding the multitude? Everything! Let me explain
Let’s first look
at the story of Jacob wrestling with God. This might just be my favorite Old
Testament story because I’ve had a few knock-down, drag-outs with the Almighty
myself. I imagine every thinking Christian
does. But wrestling with God is risky business. Jacob left the ordeal with a
limp. I left my wrestling match with God with a theology that doesn’t fit
nicely into any box and landed me in a heap of trouble with my fundamentalist
employers. Wrestling with God is risky business.
Then there’s Jesus and the story of feeding
5,000 men, and probably something like 20,000 when you count the women and
children. The context to this story is
that Jesus had just learned of the beheading of John the Baptist, his cousin,
his friend, and his partner in this new, spiritual revolution. His reaction was to seek solitude, so he got
in a boat by himself and went off to what the scripture calls a “lonely place.”
Reading between the lines a bit, Jesus was upset, grieving, and probably his
own impending execution weighed heavy on his heart. So he needed to be alone to think and pray . . . but he didn’t
get that alone time. The crowd followed
him, 20,000 strong. When he saw them,
the Bible says he had “compassion on them and healed their sick.” Setting aside his need for solitude, the
wounded healer goes to work:
“When it was evening, the disciples came to Him and said,
‘This place is desolate and the hour is already late; so send the crowds away,
that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.’ But Jesus said
to them, ‘They do not need to go away; you give them something to eat!’ They
said to Him, ‘We have here only five loaves and two fish.’ And He said, ‘Bring
them here to Me.’ Ordering the people to sit down on the grass, He took the
five loaves and the two fish, and looking up toward heaven, He blessed the
food, and breaking the loaves He gave them to the disciples, and the disciples
gave them to the crowds.”[1]
I wonder
what must have been going through Jesus’ mind as he looked at the throng of
20,000 hungry people and compared their hunger with the measly little loaves
and fish. I’m not one who thinks that Jesus was omniscient, that he knew everything
that had ever or would ever happen. I think he was more human than that. So I’m
not convinced that when Jesus TOOK that bread, when he BLESSED that bread, when
he BROKE that bread, and when he OFFERED that bread, I’m not convinced he knew
exactly what would happen next. It was a risky thing for Jesus to do. It could
have ended miserably with 19,995 hungry men, women, and children staring at him
like a hungry shark. He risked humiliation.
He risked failure. He risked
himself in one ill-advised moment of sheer faith.
And what
happened next? We don’t really know,
but we do know that whatever happened, it made an impression on his
followers. So much so that it’s the
only miracle story that appears in all four gospels. Did more bread and fish
appear out of thin air, like manna from heaven? Or did those who were wise enough to pack a picnic emulate the
generosity of their lord, offering what they had to those who had nothing. Was this the first great potluck
supper? And if so, does it diminish the
story? I don’t think so. The “haves” sharing their abundance with the
“have nots” is indeed a miracle. A
miracle we could still use a little more of even today.
All we
know is that Jesus took a great risk; and as the Bible says, “They all ate, and
were satisfied.” In his compassion, he cared about their hunger. And they ate. Every man, woman, and child.
I heard a true story a few years ago that I
want to share with you, though my details may be a little fuzzy. A reporter
went to visit Mother Teresa to write about the work she was doing in Calcutta,
India amongst the poor. After spending about a week with her he was getting
ready to leave. As they were saying their goodbyes, this fragile, yet sturdy
woman asked him in what ways she could be praying for him. Without hesitation
he told her that he would like prayer for clarity in life. Mother Teresa looked
at him and told him that she was sorry that she was unable to pray for this for
him. A bit bewildered he asked why. She said that she herself had never had
clarity, but she had always trusted that God would provide. She told this
reporter that she would pray that he would be able to trust God even when
nothing seemed to be very clear.
I’ve held this story close to me ever since I
heard it because of the powerful truth and insight within it. The truth is life offers little clarity, but with
faith we can enjoy the journey anyway.
In a couple of weeks I’m going to the beach.
I slip into my wetsuit (or push, prod, and poke), and I’ll step off a boat into
a vast ocean full of unknowns underneath. And with just a little faith, I’ll
enjoy every single minute of it!
May you trust God in uncertain times, and may
you know the great joy of walking in risky faith!