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First
Reading
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Psalm |
Epistle |
Gospel |
Amos 7:7–15 |
Psalm 85:8–13 |
Ephesians 1:3–14 |
Mark 6:14–29
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There is an old folktale about two farmers who became entangled in a boundary dispute. Finally after many bitter words and threats, one farmer got a few of his friends to come at night and move a fence back twenty feet, cutting down all the trees in the way. The other farmer in retaliation went out the following night and took a bag of salt and dumped it into his neighbor’s well. A few days later, the second farmer discovered a salty taste in his well also, for both wells drew on ground water from the same source.
I’d like to learn of the sequel to the story. What do the farmers do now? Do they recognize that forgiveness and repentance are real possibilities that hold out hope for the future, and are intrinsically necessary for their continued common prosperity? Do they work now together in cleaning their wells and defining their boundaries, recognizing that vindictiveness and revenge ultimately poison everyone involved. I suspect we need to take the writing of this sequel seriously, for the rage and divisiveness of our society today threatens to poison all our wells too.
It’s easy to wish for a romanticized church of the past, when we didn’t seem to have the formidable problems we have now. The major issue appeared to be what Sunday do we start the pledge campaign or where will we hold the church picnic. It’s also tempting to yearn for a glorified church of the future, when all will get the message and everyone will recognize that we were right all along. But the only church we are a part of, is the church right now, and the key to discipleship is asking where do we go from here.
It’s understandable that people are afraid to declare themselves as people of faith. Hardly a day goes by when we are not criticized for something Christians did in the past, or pressured to feel ashamed for something we are not doing in the present. We also may feel that we are given a bad name by the actions of some other Christians.
A few weeks from now, we will read the lesson of the feeding of the crowd with a few loaves and fishes, and Jesus will discuss with the disciples the significance of the event. Jesus will recall Moses feeding the ancient Israel in the desert with the manna provided by God. Then Jesus will say that he himself is the bread of life, the true bread from heaven. At this point, some of the disciples cannot accept this, leave and go back to their synagogues. Jesus asks the twelve, will you leave me too. And Peter replies for them, to whom will we go, for you have the words that give eternal life.
Yet this touching episode would not have been but for underlying commitment of Jesus. Jesus tells the disciples by word and by example, I will not leave you, for you are part of humanity that I have come to redeem and which I so love. I wish to enlist you as my disciples in helping me accomplish my mission. Last Sunday we might recall that Jesus was not ashamed to respond to the disciples in the boat when they called. Jesus was not reluctant to be associated with such a frightened and hapless crew.
If there was one message I would wish you would take with you this morning, it would be to remember that God is not ashamed to be with us, be it on the Ithaca Commons, or inside the mall, or in the research lab. Christians proclaim that God is accessible and not hiding: That God has not deserted us, that we are not alone and adrift in a sinking boat.
It will be difficult work to write the sequel to the farmers with the salty wells. The wells won’t give sweet water over night. It will be a challenging task for people of faith to join others in helping to write the sequel in our time. Yet now is always the time to begin.
And I offer this to you in the name of the Living God, Amen.
