Loaves and Fishes

The church's community food pantry was almost empty.  Only a few cans and boxes remained.  The monthly trip to the food bank had only provided enough food for a couple of weeks and the money in the offering barely covered that bill.  Even though there was little food, people continued to come asking for help, continued to worry about money, and continued to lose their jobs.  Will everyone who needed help receive it?  Were the needs of the people too big for God?  Would God provide as the economy remains unstable?

John 6:1-15 talks about how the disciples were also faced with the hunger of large numbers of people.  Philip saw the great masses of people and believed that the problem was too big.  Andrew saw the five loaves and two fishes and believed that they didn't have enough to solve the problem.

When we look at John 6, we see that Jesus used this opportunity to demonstrate to his disciples that God would provide.  He didn't try to tell them about God's abilities.  He had everyone sit down and he blessed the food that was there.  After everyone had eaten, Jesus had the remaining bread collected so that all could see how much more was left over.  He authenticated what God had done by physically showing how much more God had given than was needed.

 

I am reminded of the folktale, "Stone Soup," where as individual ingredients are added to the cooking pot until eventually a community soup is made.  We may not start off with an entire soup, but each of us has a bit of onion or carrot that can be added to create the soup.

The director of the food pantry uses the collected money to buy 3 to 4 times as much food at the food bank.  The volunteers harvest bushels of vegetables from the community garden after planting tiny seeds.  The local supermarkets donate produce and baked goods which are approaching their expiration dates.

A month ago an anonymous donor filled the shelves of MCC Lubbock's  food pantry just as the last bags were being given out.  In another life, I would have called this result "Luck," but experience tells me that God is at work.  Someone took what s/he had and allowed God to multiply it into baskets of loaves and fishes.  Thanks be to God.

Why Pray

Why pray? -Because I want a relationship with God, just as God wants to have one with me.  Praying (talking) is just one aspect of developing a bond.  One of the ways I move from being an acquaintance to being a friend is telling God how my life is going.  I sometimes cry in anguish with

God. Other times I laughingly tell God of the wonderful things happening in my life. Although God knows all of these things, by sharing God and I are forming a connection that can survive through difficult times.

Why pray? -Because if I do not honestly speak to God, how can I be honest with myself? At my most hurt, I raged at God.  This candid reaction to pain allowed me to learn that painful experiences are not the fault of God.  AND God shares in my pain just as my earthly parents do.

Why pray? -Because I need to hear what God has to say to me.  Prayer is more than talking to God.  It also involves listening to what God want me to know and understand.  When I sit quietly and open my mind, God shares just as I have with God.

Hope

How do you find hope today?  What if every where you look for hope, all you see are obstacles?  How do others deal with oppression on a daily basis?  Hope is a often a difficult feeling to find, especially in our economically unstable world. 

As I begin my field education at Hope Community of Shalom, I am meeting people who are seeking the basic things in survival.  Hope to them means that they have food for the weekend and clothes that aren't ripped or too small.  It also means that their kids have a place to go where they aren't sitting in front of the TV or getting into trouble on the streets.  Hope means that grandparents have a place to meet with others who are raising grandchildren.  Hope means discovering that God loves people even when they feel like they are unloveable.

What has impressed me about Hope Community is the fact that it was created based on the desires and needs of the neighborhood in which it was founded.  People walk to the building to get groceries, eat a meal, shop for clothes, and worship God.

This past Sunday afternoon I worked in the food pantry, which is aptly named "Loaves and Fishes."  I worked with two men who are also patrons of Hope.  They came to receive services and decided to also give their time.  Others went to Fiesta Domingo, the Sunday evening meal, and helped clean up.  Some people come to Hope and receive goods and services without helping AND that is okay too! 

Hope can be given and can be received.  Hope can be witnessed and can be experienced.  Look for the Hope that is in our world and share it. 

Communion

The lights in the sanctuary dimmed in preparation of Communion. The pastor asked everyone to go to God in prayer. I sat silently thinking to myself, “Can I go to Communion? Is it sacrilegious to participate when I didn’t really believe? I need to feel another person’s touch. What am I supposed to do?”

I struggled with my thoughts as the head usher stepped beside my row. The usher had moved on to the next row before I could make my body move. As I stepped into the aisle, I felt like every person knew that I was a skeptic. I gasped for shallow breaths expecting at any moment that someone would tell me to sit down.

When my turn finally came, I went to the first server available. The woman gave me the elements, softly saying, “Receive the body and blood of Jesus.” Then she laid her hand on my shoulder and whispered a quiet blessing. Her gentle touch seemed to tell me that she welcomed me into fellowship with her.

That first Sunday I accepted communion (definitely with a small “c”) with the people of MCC Lubbock. As defined by the dictionary communion can be an “interchange or sharing of thoughts or emotions” and “the act of sharing, or holding in common.” Because I was able to step forward and begin a deeper relationship on that Sunday, I was later able to accept Communion with and from God. I had to learn that others were accessible to me before I could grasp God’s presence in my life.

Are you in the service industry?

What does it mean to be a follower of Christ? The answer seems to be presenting itself to me around every corner.

As I sit in the airport, I watch people who are in the service industry who are harried as they try to rearrange seats, clean up after spills, and pacify the angry traveler who arrived at the gate as the plane is taking off. If the airport personnel handle disagreements with patience and kindness, the patrons around them often come away with a better view of the airlines and the airport.

As I am writing these words a man splashed his coffee on me. He felt horrible, apologizing over and over. My response to this little accident makes the difference in how I present myself as a Christian. Do I react with anger and live up to the too-often seen Christian in word, but not in walk? Or do I come across as a true follower of Christ and say, "Don't worry about it. You didn't do it on purpose."

Each of us who consider ourselves to be followers of Christ are in fact in the service industry. We meet travelers when they are angry, lost, confused, and often seeking. Our job is to show others about God's grace and as we do this we become better servants for God. Are you ready to serve?

Stranger at the Table

Last Sunday the guest preacher was concluding his sermon as a woman walked into church and moved to sit on the front pew. Our congregation shifted uncomfortably with knowledge that the woman was a stranger, extremely late, and dressed in old, torn clothes. A few whispers were heard as church members struggled with the idea that a stranger would walk past several empty pews to sit on the front row. Concern that she would disrupt our service was what several of us thought.

After the sermon hymn, I moved to the front so that I could consecrate the elements for Communion. I stood behind God's Table and as is the tradition at most MCCs I welcomed all who came seeking God. After distributing the elements to the other servers, I took my place as a server. The woman sat on that front row looking at me with sad eyes and I beckoned to her. She whispered, "Are you sure? I can come? I didn't know if it would be okay." This woman, Glenda, was a stranger at God's Table not because the church members didn't know her and not because God had thrown her away, but because she believed that we, as a church, and God, as divine judge, viewed her as unworthy of receiving grace.

As I began writing about the blessing I received from Glenda's presence, I realized that God was using her to speak to me. Glenda has been a recurring indicator of where God is leading my ministry and today as I write, I finally am listening to what God has to say. Glenda doesn't realized or remember that she and I have met on several previous occasions. Twice she has come to MCC Lubbock, once for a service and another time for our garage sale. Another time I ran into her at my local phone store when I was paying my bill. Each instance I clearly remember our interactions and her ever-present need for acceptance and understanding.

This week as we read and study about ministering off the beaten paths I acknowledge that Glenda is a "big fish" for me. A close friend dubbed each incident of God trying to direct me as a "big fish" and often reminds me that ignoring God's call might land me in the same predicament as Jonah faced. Over the past couple of years I have been trying my hardest to ignore that God is calling me to work outside of a mainstream church. Although I have acknowledged that I will probably be ministering to those who feel rejected by society, I have celebrated the idea that God wants me to serve those who are on the fringes of society and who may feel excluded from conventional churches.

Last Sunday as I held Glenda while she sobbed, I recognized that I not only embraced a hurting woman, but also the idea that I was made to minister to others who feel removed from God. This one opportunity wasn't terrifying or taxing. In fact I felt joy from comforting Glenda and showing her the love that God has put in each of our hearts. God has created me to welcome the stranger to the table and then sit with him or her while we eat.

Holy Week

Holy Week is such a busy time at MCC Lubbock as it is at many churches. Set up for Maundy Thursday. Set up foot washing stations. Have the service for Maundy Thursday. Clean up from Maundy Thursday. Set up for Good Friday. Have the service for Good Friday. Clean up from Good Friday. Stuff Easter eggs. Prepare Easter breakfast. Get up at 6 am. Have the sunrise service. Clean up from Easter Breakfast. Set up for Easter 11 am service. Have Easter service. Have Easter egg hunt.

Whew! Somewhere in the midst of all the hustle and bustle of this time of year, congregants are expected to find a way to undergo a tiny bit of what Jesus experienced. Sometimes we get lost in all the duties and expectations and don't take the time to feel what all the services are supposed to allow us to feel.

The Seder Meal that we celebrate every other year at MCC Lubbock is of particular significance to me. We break the matzah, the unleavened bread of bondage. Just as the Israelites were in servitude to the Pharaoh, we continued to be bound by ignorance, oppression, and fear. The bitter herbs or maror are eaten to symbolize the bitterness of slavery. We must acknowledge that as long as we prosper off of those who cannot escape poverty we are chained to our society just as the Israelites were chained to Egypt. We eat baitzah, a hard-cooked egg, that represents the cycle of birth and death. For me as a Christian the baitzah reminds me that due to Christ's death and resurrection, I have been given the gift of rebirth. The haroseth, which is made of chopped apples, nuts, and wine, signifies the mortar used with the bricks the Israelites made while enslaved by Pharaoh. The sweetness of the haroseth suggests the taste of freedom that comes to me through God's grace. Karpas, parsley or other greens, are eaten as a reminder of new growth that comes each spring. Finally four cups of wine are drunk at various parts of the meal.

Long ago, Jesus shared a similar meal in a borrowed room with his twelve disciples. He ate this symbolic meal as he prepared to be crucified. He was the lamb that was given as a sacrifice for the sins of all people. He went willingly knowing that his pain was necessary to demonstrate the grace that God offered and continues to offer. AND he knew that these events were not going to be an ending, but a beginning.

This year, will you take the time to remember the sacrifices that God made over two centuries ago? Will you stop in the craziness of eggs and chocolate and special dinners to commemorate the joy that this season represents? Like Mary Magdalene at the tomb, will you cry out to the world, "I have seen the Lord"?

Reconnection

Recently I've been reconnecting with friends who I haven't seen in many years. Facebook has been an amazing opportunity to find people who I knew from childhood. Sometimes when I send a message or a request to someone, I don't feel very sure of myself. Does this person want to have contact with me? Are we going to relate to each other as well as we did when we were younger? A lot of concerns and fears come when I think about reuniting with old friends.

I also felt this way when I reconnected with God. In a sense God was a friend with whom I had lost contact. I had walked away from God and didn't look back until my emotional life became such a mess that I was desparate. I had pretty much said, "God, you are of no use to me. I'm leaving." As a human I know how I would react to someone treating me that way. "If that's the way you feel, good riddance. I don't need you either."

When I approached God after my planned ignoring, I waited for the disdain and aloofness that would be expected from humans. I tried to sneak into church as a casual observer. First God wasn't going to allow me to sit on the sidelines. And second God didn't react as I expected. I was welcomed much as the prodigal son in the parable. God didn't lay any guilt on me for the way I had behaved or for my absence. I was welcomed with love and understanding.

I had never understood that God wasn't like us humans. God knows that I have faults and need to grow in many areas. Instead of holding it against me, God greets me with a hospitality that I have rarely extended to those who hurt me.

I have begun to realize when I am asked to be like God that this type of hospitality may be what is expected of me. Am I willing to put aside old hurts to see the changes in people or in myself? Do I keep my grudges close to my heart where they can never be healed? Or do I try to offer grace as Jesus did for us?