A Story Not Really About Dogs

Many people didn’t care for Jesus’ message. His closest followers had questions…

“It’s a dog’s life,” Jesus said, one day.

Several of the disciples nodded, one or two smiled, Peter said “pfft.”

They all looked at him. “What? Really? You think so?” he said. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Jesus, but things aren’t going great lately. The world’s not an easy place and people are struggling. Sometimes your ‘don’t worry, be happy’ message is a little hard for people to take.”

The other disciples were shocked and looked awkwardly at the ground. Jesus just smiled.

“Don’t worry, be happy,” Jesus repeated. “I like that. It should be a song. One day maybe.”

Peter just huffed. “I’m just trying to be realistic, Jesus. It’s a dog’s life? If only we could lie around all day, get food and water when we want, play with toys when we want, that would be great. But it’s not like that. Yesterday you were talking about being like birds or flowers or fields of grass. ‘God provides,’ you said. But it’s not like that for us. We have to work and fight for everything we have or we’ll have nothing.” 

By now, Peter began to notice the silence. None of the others were looking at him, except Jesus. Peter sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just don’t think it’s very realistic, okay?”

Jesus nodded a few times. “I hear you, Peter, and thank you. I appreciate you saying something. I know you’re not the only one who sees things that way. But listen, the thing about the birds and the flowers, dogs, other animals even, the thing is: they don’t do nothing.”

Peter looked at the others and they all looked a little confused. “Was that a double negative?” asked Matthew, who appreciated good grammar.

“Exactly!” exclaimed Jesus. “it’s not about just believing that God will take care of you and you don’t have to do anything. The birds, the animals, the flowers and grass already live in relationship with the world around them so that they have all they need. Each has a place in the web of creation, each relates to earth and sky and air so that they are fed and watered, each gives and receives in its own way, as needed. That's the greatest beauty of creation, that it works in relationship within itself. At least,” Jesus paused, “ all of creation but you and me. We must choose to. We often don’t. And when we do, yes, there is work to be done.

“I’m saying we shouldn’t focus on the stuff. You want to because you can see it and feel it. It’s what you think is real, and it is. But what if we could change how we look at life to be about what’s truly of value first: the things that are truly life-giving. Love. Caring. Kindness. Respect. That’s what I mean when I talk about finding God in your life. What if we could find empathy with each other and share what we need rather than worry about what we want. We all have so much to share.”

Peter looked unsure. “I’d say that’s a lot of work, especially in the world we live in.” Others nodded. So did Jesus.

“Yes,” said Jesus, “but imagine how different the world would be! You know, Peter, you thought I meant a dog’s life was great. But when people first started saying that, they meant the opposite. Dogs worked hard. Some still do. But whatever work they do - even as pets - it should be about making a relationship that benefits everyone. Just like the birds, the flowers, the grass and all the rest of creation. It’s not ‘don’t worry, be happy.’ It’s don’t be afraid, find the joy.”

A World of Story

You might have noticed that, for the last little while, most of my posts have been about story. Either the story-telling nature of the bible or re-telling bible stories or creating stories from the seed of a bible story. That’s because I’m on a sabbatical leave and stories are what I’m spending my time on.

In the United Church of Canada, ministers are eligible for a three month sabbatical every five years. That’s a time away from the regular day-to-day work of ministry to focus on two things which I think are intimately connected.

One is spiritual reflection and renewal. While there needs to be sabbath moments in everyday life, it’s good idea in any vocation to spend a longer, more concentrated time in renewal. Perhaps on a retreat or a pilgrimage, for example.

The other is to do work that is beneficial to the church or community for which there isn’t always - or ever - time. This might be a creative project like research, a study, writing or creating art.

So, while I’m grateful to the congregations I serve for taking over my work for three months, I’m taking the opportunity to work on story. Specifically, I’m looking at how we share what’s true and life-giving at the heart of the bible story and how we might tell or re-tell it for today’s world, especially for people who haven’t heard it before. To borrow a phrase from Marcus Borg, it’s like how we might tell the story again for the first time.

My particular emphasis is how we share those stories with children and with children of all ages. The lens through which I’m trying to create is Jesus’ encouragement that all should come to God as children. So, I’m creating stories to be shared in pictures and words, educational programming that’s story-based, and stories to be staged as skits or plays.

I think it’s important to understand the bible as stories, at the heart of which are essential truths that are life-giving and sustaining. I’m less interested in debating the historical authenticity or factual accuracy than I am understanding what we learn, appreciate and absorb into our lives. That, after all, is why Jesus and others teach with stories and why Jesus so frequently reminds us that it’s not about following the rules or behaving a certain way, but living out what’s in our hearts.

We live in story. Our lives, how they connect and intersect, is a narrative that we’re creating and living. How we relate that and interpret it is all story and we are always doing both those things, telling a tale and interpreting it’s meaning as we do. As much as we’d like to hang on to old Joe Friday’s saying from Dragnet, “just the facts” just isn’t possible. Our own context, our own experience, our own thoughts and perceptions are forever framing our story. And that may resonate with others when we share it.

More than one person has suggested that we’re the hero of our own story. That, too, might resonate with the idea of considering who we could be as a character in a bible story. That’s not just about searching for relevance in ancient stories, it’s about being able to see yourself in the story, now, as your life happens. When you can see yourself in the story, it takes on a deeper and more profound meaning. 

Miracles Everyday

Have you ever been invited into a miracle?

It should be abundantly clear from anyone’s telling of the story that it wasn’t planned. It wasn’t a rally or a convention, not a jamboree or a festival. There was no reason to think about organization. People just showed up. They came and came, and they kept coming and soon there was about 5,000 at the end of the day, hanging on every word and gesture from Jesus.

The people were restless and getting irritable. This had gone on a longtime, they were tired and hungry. It was getting dark. The disciples huddled in a little group. “Who knew Jesus could talk that long?” said one of them.

“It’s not his fault,” said another, “the people just keep following him and demanding more. More healing, more teaching, more preaching, more everything.”

“Well it’s not their fault, either,” said someone. “They’re desperate. Some of them need comfort, some inspiration, and they’re all just looking for a little hope.”

“Still,” said yet another, “ they could have planned better. Jesus just walks and talks and they just keep going with him, not watching where he’s going.” They paused, “where are we, anyway?”

“Who knows,”sighed one, “I’m hungry.” Others jumped in and they began to bicker and point fingers. People in the crowd were starting to notice. But then, one voice stood out. “I don’t think it’s right to blame the people. Or me.” It was Jesus.

“Things just happened the way they did and here we are,” said Jesus. “Later, we can talk about being prepared. And we will. A lot. But, for now, I think it’s more important to talk about what we have rather than what we don’t, and what we have is each other.”

There were a few nods. One of the disciples said “but Jesus, sure, we may have each other, but we don’t have food and the people are hungry. How are they going to be fed?”

“Well,” said Jesus thoughtfully, “you guys have anything to share?”

They all just looked at each other. A little annoyed, one of them said “didn’t you hear us Jesus, no one packed any food.” There were grumblings of agreement from the others.

People in the crowd were gathering around now, watching and listening.

“I don’t mean ‘did you pack a meal’ or ‘bring a buffet’ for everyone,” answered Jesus calmly. “Do you have,” he paused, “anything?”

They looked at each other and back at Jesus. One of them spoke up, a little sheepishly. Reaching into their pocket, they said “I grabbed an extra bun at breakfast.” A couple of disciples clicked their tongues disapprovingly, but Jesus said “that’s great! Can I have a piece, please? Anyone else?”

Another offered, “I’ve got an apple.” Then another, “I’ve got an old granola bar in the bottom of my bag.” A mom in the crowd said “I’ve got some cereal and a bag of goldfish crackers.” A man spoke up “I’ve got a couple of real fish. I was fishing before I came here.”

The question moved through the crowd like a wave. People searched their pockets, backpacks and bags. Small groups began trading bits of food and sharing together. Soon, everyone was happily fed and ready to head out on the journey home.

“See,” said Jesus, “we have each other.” “It’s a miracle there was enough for everyone,” said one of the disciples. “Yes,” Jesus replied, “and you were part of it. Remember that.”

Leftovers

The story of Jesus feeding a large crowd is one of my favourite miracle stories in the Bible. It’s also the only miracle story - other than the resurrection, of course - to appear in all four gospel accounts of Jesus’ life.

It’s a great story, and the general details are pretty consistent. A crowd has been following Jesus all day and, by late in the evening, they’re hungry. Jesus tells the disciples to feed them, but they have no food and not enough money to buy it. All they can find is some loaves and fishes. In John’s account, it’s a small boy who steps forward with five barley loaves and two fish. Hardly enough, but Jesus makes it enough. Indeed, more than enough because there are twelve baskets full of leftovers.

A miracle of Jesus' creation, miraculously making food appear, or a miracle of Jesus' inspiration, aided by the generosity of the small boy who was willing to share all that he had, a miracle certainly happens here. Yes, inspiring generosity enough, in a crowd that large, for everyone to share what they have so that everyone is fed is a miracle. I don’t think it’s explaining it away, but inviting us in, to be a part of the miracle - as we should be. And all are fed. And then some.

Let's step beyond the miracle moment for a minute. Each of the gospels recounts the same ending: there's leftovers. "Twelve baskets full" of leftovers. But no one says what happens to the leftovers. Do the people take them home? Does Jesus give the baskets to the disciples for later on their journey? Are they distributed to the poor?

I can't bring myself to believe that "twelve baskets full" of leftovers is meant to be just a sign of God's extravagant abundance and that's all. Surely there's a purpose for them.

So here's a thought. Everyone who experienced the moment of this miracle took that experience away with them. The experience changed their lives in some way. They also shared the experience with others. So frequently to so many, in fact, that it was a powerful enough story and tradition to be included in all four of the gospels.

It's that "ripples in the pond" effect, isn't it? Like any action we take, the moment of the miracle is just the beginning of its impact on our lives. The leftovers are its residual effect, the thing we take away with us, even the thing that we share with others. It's no wonder we should pay close attention to them.

Jesus didn't just feed the multitude that day. Jesus fed everyone they touched and everyone they touched and so on. A few verses later in John's gospel, we hear Jesus telling the people to look for a different food than the bread and fishes that they just received, a "food that endures for eternal life" (John 6:27), a food that Jesus can give them.  Jesus said to them, "I am the Bread of Life" (John 6:35) and those who come to him will never be hungry. Maybe feeding the multitude that day’s a metaphor as well as a miracle.

The spirit is fed by more than the moment of an experience, it's sustained by what we take away from the experience, live in our lives and share with others. Just so, the Bread of Life continues to feed us each and every day.

A living, breathing thing

I think the Bible is a living thing whose stories speak to us about what is true and right. It tells stories from which we learn how to live together and build positive relationships with God, the world and each other. Sure, there’s a lot of negativity, violence, death and destruction, but that’s to be expected when humanity’s involved. It’s also full of creativity, good, love and grace, and that’s to be expected when God’s involved. While we tend to look at those things as either/or situations, I think they’re and/with situations and the sooner we realize the stories are living, breathing things and not just words on a page, we’ll begin to understand that better. Just as we’ll understand how to bring those stories alive in our own lives when we realize the point of Jesus isn’t to distinguish between God and us, but to show us God in us and how we, too, are divine and earthly.

But sometimes we think it's a book. Sometimes we treat it like it’s just words on a page, rules to follow (or not), behaviour to mimic or avoid, be entertained, even moved by, but ultimately to use to reinforce what we’ve already decided, rather than learning from it how we might grow and mature into the truest of our selves.

Sometimes, the book is an icon, held up by the powerful to justify their power. And they can because, though the Bible is available in more forms than it’s ever been before and more people are buying them, fewer people really know what’s in it. Tim Beal wrote an excellent book about this a few years ago, The Rise and Fall of the Bible: The Unexpected History of an Accidental Book. I'm sure there's other books about this, some with shorter titles, but essentially he contends, with evidence, that very thing: while more Bibles are being purchased, in more forms and languages than ever before, less and less people are biblically literate. In other words, while The Word has become more accessible, we're reading it less. And worse, we're often simply believing what someone else tells us about it. And then tells us how to behave. 

The thing is, the Bible isn’t a book, really, it’s a library of books. So, in its collection, you shouldn’t be surprised to find a lot of diversity, spirituality, reality, some contradictions, some myth, some fiction, some history, some self-help and health, a little religion and maybe even some fantasy and science fiction. 

At least, it appears that way if we simply take the stories at face value. And that’s not what the Bible’s about. What makes it most meaningful and valuable is finding what’s at its heart, what essential truth a story is relating, what life principle it’s speaking to us today in this time and place, however strange and unfamiliar the story may seem at first.

I think that’s true of all sacred texts, whether they’re part of “the library” or not. What makes them sacred is being about life, how we create and live together, how we steward creation and community, how we love.

We need to share the stories. We need to wonder at how they speak to us, how we see the stories in our own lives, in our own time. We’ll need help with that, from researchers and commentators, even interpreters. We’ll need to hear other people’s stories. Maybe that sounds like work, but it’s how we build relationships. Stories are living, breathing things that come alive when they’re shared, remembered and taken into our lives.

Have faith: things don't always go according to plan

Stories of Jesus aren’t just about believing in God. That’s not enough. There’s more to believe in. Here’s what I mean.

It was a dark and stormy night … 

Jesus had seen the clouds moving in while they were having supper. It’d been a long day and the crowd that had been following him had stopped for something to eat. It was an outdoor meal, a simple one, a potluck with bread and fish and whatever else anyone had. But Jesus was tired. He decided to send the disciples on ahead, taking a boat to cross the lake to the other side. If they left now, they might beat the storm that was coming, and Jesus would have enough time to say a few last goodbyes, have a rest and walk around the lake in the morning.

Things don’t always go according to plan.

It was the thunder that woke Jesus up. The wind was pulling at his coat and the rain had just started. As he looked out on the lake with the first light of morning, he could see the wind picking up the waves. It would be a rough crossing. He could just make out a few boats, fighting the storm. There, at the front, were the disciples. He wasn’t much of a sailor, but he could see they were in trouble. There must be something he could do.

Meanwhile, the disciples were wishing they’d walked, too. The water was rough and dangerous and the storm was battering them from every side. Even the most experienced fishermen among them was afraid. And then one of them saw a figure out on the water, coming towards them. It seemed to be a person, not in a boat, but on the waves, climbing them, riding them, rushing towards them with each gust of the wind. The disciples were even more afraid. First the storm and now this: what could it be?

But as it drew closer, Peter could see it was Jesus.

“Don’t be afraid,” shouted Jesus over the storm, “you can do this!”

Thinking he meant to come out to him, Peter stepped out of the boat on to the water. He took a few steps, feeling the rushing water beneath his feet. “How is this possible?” he thought. And he could also feel the wind and the rain, and the thunder boomed overhead and the lightening lit the white waves. And he was afraid. And he began to sink.

“Help me, Jesus, I can’t do it,” he shouted.

And just then, he felt Jesus’ hand grab hold of him and help back into the boat. “Oh Peter,” Jesus said. And he got in the boat with him and he said, “Peter, where’s your faith?”

Peter said “I thought I believed in you enough, Jesus, I did. I thought I believed enough to be able to do what you were doing.”

Jesus sighed (loud enough to be heard over the storm). “No, that’s not what I mean, Peter. I know you believe in me. I know you believe in God. I know that. That’s not what I mean. That’s not enough, Peter. You have to believe in you.” Peter looked puzzled.

“Believe in yourself, Peter,” said Jesus again. “Believe in you, believe that you are an important part of this world. Believe that God is with you, just as I am. Believe that God’s spirit is in you and in the sea and in the wind and in everything around you. Believe in possibility and don’t be afraid. You’re not alone.” Jesus grabbed Peter’s arm. “Let’s show the others.”

Peter grabbed an oar and began shouting to the other disciples, telling them to row with the wind, to ride the waves, not fight them. He encouraged them to work together and not be afraid of the storm.

Before long, they reached the shore. Wet, tired and with more of an adventure than they’d wanted. But they reached the other side, ready for the next step of their journey.

It could be about the garden

There’s always more than one perspective. As we move forward towards the post-pandemic world, we’ll need to remember that living into the love that’s in all of us requires nurture and care and a little work. Or a lot.

Jesus told some people a parable.

A wise old woman looked out her window one day. She looked up at the sun and down at the earth and she looked at her calendar and her clock and she said to herself, “it’s time.” 

She picked up a large bag full of seeds and …

“Hang on a minute,” someone interrupted. “We’ve heard this one before. You told it last week. The seeds are God’s love and they’re scattered generously everywhere for everyone.” There were nods and murmurs of agreement. “Tell us a new one, Jesus.”

“But I am,” replied Jesus. “This story isn’t about the seed. Listen.”

She stepped out her back door and she began tossing the seeds to the earth, spreading them out as far as she could.

Some of the seeds landed on the path from her door. She remembered digging out the ground and putting in the nice, flat stones to make the path. The old woman smiled to see the birds enjoying their meal.

Some of the seeds landed on rocks. The wind and the rain had worn the rocks down over the years, making smooth little pockets where the seeds landed. The old woman smiled when the seeds sprang quickly to life, then just as quickly faded away.

Some of the seeds landed among weeds. The old woman picked some dandelion leaves and chickweed to go with her lunch. They were fresh and delicious and it cleared a little room for the seeds to grow.

Some of the seeds landed in the good soil. “Good soil,” laughed the old woman. It hadn’t been much before she started to take care of it, digging up the garden bed, tilling the soil, adding healthy compost and watering. She even put up a little fence to keep out the animals while things grew. And she checked every day, and talked kindly to the little seedlings as they grew, wishing them sunlight and rain. It wasn’t long before there was a beautiful garden, thriving under her care and nurture.

Jesus looked at the crowd. “How does your garden grow?” he asked.

There was silence and more than a few frowns and looks of confusion. “So we’re supposed to be good soil?” said someone. 

“You’re supposed to be who you are,” said Jesus. “We’re all different and we’re all just meant to be who we are. We’re valuable to creation just as we are, that’s part of the great wonder and variety.

“See, we’re just like the garden. We need to grow, to flourish, to be more fully who we are. That means we need work, we need feeding and nurturing, we need to stand in the sun and sit in the earth. The world around us affects how we are and what we’re like, too. And we grow together, in relationship with all things. 

“Everything comes from the earth and the earth needs our help and care, just like we do, ourselves. Love is in all things and it grows and brings life when we’re open to it, we nurture it and we care for it. So. How does your garden grow?”