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"The Miracle of Fellowship" Sermon Preached By Rev. Richard E. Stetler - August 4, 2002 Acts 2:43-47; Matthew 14:13-21
The boy
spoke to the girl by cupping his lips over his teeth so that the
source of his embarrassment would not show. She responded to him
very confidently and as she did, her braces were clearly visible.
She said, "Hi! You name is James, isn't it? I believe we are in the
same class." He produced a big grin and said, "Really?" After he
met someone who was wearing the same smile, all the fears about his
appearance vanished. How many
of us are carrying something we feel is too awkward to share? Like
the boy, we cup our lips so that no one will see our braces. This
probably happens more often than we might imagine. In our culture we
pride ourselves on being individuals, on taking responsibility for
ourselves and on bothering no one with our problems. We have
been carefully taught that each of us is unique, a one-of-a-kind. We
use many metaphors to describe ourselves. Our individuality has
been linked to snowflakes since no two of them are remotely alike.
Sometimes we have been referred to as caterpillars who must crawl,
struggle against our imprisoning cocoons and then finally spring
forth as liberated butterflies who can soar over yesterday's
barriers.
Being
an individual, however, can give us many lonely moments.
The young man in the commercial was only cured of his fears when he
met someone who was like him. People who have experienced the death
of a spouse feel displaced. Frequently their healing process is
enhanced when they find others who have learned how to manage their
vacuum with healthy alternatives. Folks
who find their lives being controlled by some addiction, often find
recovery much easier by being with others who are experiencing the
same challenge. Something wonderful happens when two or three are
gathered. It is called fellowship, a connection that binds people
together. In our
lesson this morning, we find Jesus reacting to the news of his
cousin's murder. No doubt the details of John's senseless death had
reached his ears and he needed to be alone. Jesus wanted to find a
lonely place where he could sort out his feelings. What
confronted him was a crowd who had needs of its own. They were feeling
John's loss as well. A person who had made God very real to them and
who had been unafraid to speak out about King Herod's immoral
life-style had just had his life snuffed out by the request of a
sensuous dancer. When Jesus saw the people approaching, he had
compassion for them and ministered to their needs. Individuals
can remain individuals even in a group. We do the same thing each time
we gather for worship. We enter the church on Sunday mornings without
the slightest understanding of what others are dealing with in their
lives. Was the crowd approaching Jesus a community? The answer is,
"No," but that was about to change. As the story
unfolds, we learn that the hour of the day was late. People were no
doubt hungry. The disciples urged Jesus to send them home. Jesus said
to his disciples, "That is not necessary. Feed them." They said, "All
we have are five loaves and two fish." Sensing the reticence of his
disciples, Jesus directed the people to sit down. He offered a blessing
over the loaves and fish and told the disciples to share them with the
people. Jesus'
challenge was to help a crowd of individuals to become a community. In
those days, no one journeyed any distance from their home without
packing food and drink for themselves. This was evidenced by the
innocence of a boy who was willing to share what he had brought. The
miracle of feeding the 5,000 was that Jesus gave permission for a crowd
of individuals to experience being in community. They shared their
food as Jesus had modeled and there was plenty for everyone. Our lesson
indicates that there were 12 baskets of leftovers by the time everyone
had finished eating. Where do we suppose those baskets came from? They
were the containers of choice in which people carried their food and
drink as they traveled.
In fact, if
the truth were known, the crowd was made up of Jewish United
Methodists. We never go anywhere without a casserole. Every time we
have a pot-luck here at the church, we are witnesses to a miracle.
There are always doubters who say, "All we have here are five loaves and
two fish." By the time we are ready to eat, an entire table full of
food appears. Individuals bring something to eat and as a community, we
share. There is always plenty. We will
always meet individuals. Why not help them experience being in a
community? Sometimes a crowd of individuals needs a little motivation to
experience what we do. The young boy provided such encouragement when
he gave to the disciples his gift of bread and fish. The lad's greater
gift was that he enabled Jesus to invite everyone to share. That was the
miracle.
Is there
someone you know who is having a challenging time right now? Invite
them to come here. People generally say "yes" when someone invites them
to participate. An invitation can shatter the imaginary security
bubble of individualism that most of us are unaware we display. Why
not invite them to share just an hour of their time. God will take it
from there. People have
said, "Church is not my thing. I don't think like church people think.
That was true until I found this place." When pressed why they kept
coming, the answer is always the same, "It is the people. There is a
freedom here that I assumed did not exist in a church."
Miracles
occur all the time when we remain in fellowship. What loaves and fish
do each of us have to share? Perhaps your bread might be to share St.
Matthew's with someone. Maybe your fish might be to share your story,
thus giving others permission to love you.
We feed each other and
that is how everyone who comes into our fellowship remains nourished.
THE CONGREGATIONAL PRAYER
Loving and infinite
God, our lips sing the praises of your presence in our lives. Our
Scriptures remind us of your faithfulness. Our presence at our Lord's
last supper has helped preserve our memory of what Jesus asked of us.
Yet, we confess that we can easily forsake the truth in our desire for
expediency. We can separate our faith from the way we choose to live.
We often prefer inspiring worship experiences over loving our
neighbors. We would ask that you heal our spirits. Breach the divide
between our desire to serve you and our hunger to feed our unmet needs.
Lead us toward a life that radiates the Gospel in all that we do.
Amen. THE PASTORAL PRAYER
Thank you, God, for
these moments together, for the time of quiet, for the realization that
life is far more than all that happened to us last week and for the
sense of peace that comes flowing through us when we focus on your
infinite love. When we truly fathom the depths of that love, nothing
else matters.
While our ears listen
to a constant litany of news that is filled with hurt and pain, cause us
to find much for which to give thanks. We are grateful for the many
unsung heros of this church -- for those who care for our gardens, who
watch our children while we worship, who count our offerings, and for
those who prepared our sanctuary for this morning. We are grateful for
those of us who have not misplaced our ability to smile and to speak
kind, friendly words. We are appreciative of those who volunteer
everything they are while doing deeds that will go unrecognized except
for you who miss nothing.
Help each one of us
as we commune this morning to remember that Jesus sent us forth to be
healers in the world, a process that begins in our own community. As we
light our individual lights, may the illuminating power of our community
be such that it blinds the eye of darkness. We pray these
thoughts through the spirit of Jesus, who taught us to say when we pray
. . .
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