What the world needs now

The other day, I was having a conversation with someone from a very different Christian denomination than my own. It wasn’t contradictory, confrontational or disagreeable. In fact, we were pretty much agreeing, though we described it more like “being on the same page.”

I think we’d also both agree that we don’t necessarily represent how people would traditionally know our denominations or, as we might say these days, our institutional brand. We talked a little bit about the institutions called “churches” and how much that’s just not Jesus. We come to God from very different traditions, but we come to one God. We embrace Jesus as part of the journey and travel very different journeys, but it’s the same Jesus, the same love. Neither of us would insist that ours is the only way, nor would we insist that the other is “wrong” in any way, nor would we insist that anyone else must travel our way. We each engage God in the way that’s meaningful for each of us, traditions, rituals, language and understanding. We are different in so many ways.

But that’s okay. That makes things richer, fuller, more lively. If only we could stop stumbling over some of those institutional things on our way to understanding each other. Those things that somehow cause us to see difference as wrong, as something to be feared, something that blocks us from learning or engaging or understanding. Or loving.

I mean, Jesus was a good Jew who went to the synagogue. But he also challenged many of the things that went with that label, reinforcing instead the laws and commandments that were at the heart of living in relationship with all creation because God is in all creation. He lived and taught love.

Jesus teaches us to love as he showed us in his life. In fact, the key part of Jesus' own demonstration of love in his life was in building relationships, coming to know people, who they are, how they are and why they are - experiencing them and engaging them with all his humanity. Jesus didn't say don't be angry, don't grieve, don't be emotional, don't be surprised, don't question.

He said “don’t be afraid.” He said that a lot. He said "don't hate." He doesn’t seem to have said that often enough.

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbour and hate your enemy.’  But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous." (Matthew 5:43-45)

In fact, I think Jesus wants us to bring to every relationship all the spirit, emotion, knowledge and questioning intellect we can. But not hate. Loving as Jesus taught means the absence of hate. All that other stuff is there, but not hate. Instead, there could be wonder, patience, a desire for learning, a willingness to listen, an understanding that we are made better when we understand each other.

Hate makes the walls that constrain our love. When we break down those walls with love, we leave hate behind. We engage those things that stir that emotion within us, but we engage them seeking understanding. We bring compassion to our anger, empathy to our grief, and wonder to our fear. The world needs that. Now.

Everyone can learn

There’s a story in the Gospel of Mark in which Jesus is approached by a woman who asks him to heal her daughter who is possessed by an “unclean spirit” (Mark 7:24).  There’s a brief, but probably a little heated, exchange of words and Jesus tells the woman to go home where she will find her daughter asleep and the demon gone.

This story is often accepted as simply another “miracle” story. In fact, in the larger context of Mark’s gospel, it is part of a series of miracles performed by Jesus, one of a series that demonstrate his divine power: feeding the 5,000, healing people, walking on water.  It would be easy to leave it at that.

But something else is happening here, too. At this point in the gospel narrative, Jesus has been busy. He’s been healing and teaching and travelling and he’s tired. He has gone somewhere to get away from the crowds that have been following him. Then this desperate woman comes to beg him for another healing, this woman who is not a Jew. She is Syrophoenician, or Canaanite, – gentiles looked down on by the Jews of Jesus’ day. Jesus says to her, “let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs” (Mark 7:27).

What? Did Jesus just tell this woman that God’s blessing (food) is for the Jews (the children) first and not for her? Yes, he did. Did he just say she was a “dog?” Yes, he did.

Jesus said that? Yes, he did. At least, that’s how the story’s told.

But here’s the best part: the woman responds that even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs. And Jesus, hearing her wisdom, replies “for saying that, you may go – the demon has left your daughter.”

As unnerving as it may be to hear Jesus say something so discriminatory and mean – especially the Jesus who proclaims the Good News for ALL people and teaches that we should love our neighbour, no matter who they are, even our enemy – as unnerving as it may be to hear that, the point is what came after: Jesus learned.

In this very human moment, when Jesus is so weakly and vulnerably human, the woman teaches Jesus, reminding him that the grace of God is for all.

Trying to picture this scene in my mind, I imagine an exhausted Jesus, perhaps a little short-tempered, grumpy even, looking to rest. And this woman standing up to him for her child. I wonder if Jesus might even have said something like “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was saying that for, you are right. And the strength of your conviction has made your child whole again. Thank you."

Jesus has spent so much time teaching others, here, perhaps, is a little miracle of teaching that reminds us of the humanity of Jesus. And it's important for us to recognize this side of Jesus. In our quest to follow Jesus’ example and live – and love – as Jesus taught, we, too, will have those very weak and vulnerable moments when we fail, moments when we are less than we can be. These are moments we must learn from, moments that may hold a life-changing learning.

Take the Time

The story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead is so often told as a miracle of Jesus power to give life, whether physical or spiritual. But what if there’s another lesson here, not for the dead, but the living?

“Jesus,” the boy called, “Jesus, you must come now. Lazarus needs you.”

“So many people need me,” replied Jesus with a sigh, “but I will come with you.” And he put his arm around the boys shoulders and they all headed out of town towards Lazarus’ village.

It was a long and tiring walk. And when they got there, they could see that people in the street were upset and crying. The boy ran ahead and when he returned he had the worst news. Lazarus had died.

Jesus stopped walking. Everyone was very quiet. They could see Jesus was upset.

But Jesus walked straight to his friends house. When he saw Lazarus’ family crying, Jesus went and sat down with them. He said nothing at all. He just sat with them. The disciples could see there were tears in his eyes. “Jesus wept,” someone said later.

The disciples felt very uncomfortable. They just stood around, not knowing what to do. 

“Shouldn’t Jesus be trying to cheer them up?” Simon said very quietly to no one in particular. “This is so awkward,” said John, “I’m so uncomfortable when people cry.” 

“Yes,” whispered Andrew, “me, too.”

“If only we’d gotten here sooner,” said Thomas.

“Our dad always said to be strong and get over it,” said James. “He said there’s no crying in fishing.”

“Mmhmm,” said someone, “for sure,” said another.

Jesus heard them and came over.

“I hear you,” said Jesus. “Thomas, big things happen in our lives when they’re supposed to happen. And no, it’s not okay to think you can be tough and get over it. You don’t get over being sad, you learn to live with it because it’s part of who you are. And crying isn’t just okay, it’s important. When we cry it gives us a chance to say something words can’t. It helps us let out our feelings.”

The disciples all looked at their feet. There were a few mumbled “sorry, Jesus”-es and a sniffle or two.

“Hey, listen. You can’t just cheer people up or hope they’ll pretend they’re okay just cause you feel uncomfortable. The best thing you can do is just sit with them. Try and understand they’re hurting and just sit with them.”

The disciples looked at each other.

“We don’t need to say anything?” said Thomas. “Not really,” said Jesus.

“What if they just want to cry?” asked Simon. “Then that’s okay,” said Jesus. “Just let them know that you’re there and that you love them. That’s what God’s doing, too.”

“Should we bring Kleenex?” asked John. “Oh yes,” said Jesus.

Simon looked around at the room full of people. “We’re going to need more Kleenex,” he said. Jesus smiled.

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.