Not by bread alone

Today, simply a scripture. As you read these instructions of Moses to the Israelites, meditate on how they apply to your life today. The Israelites were about to make a transition from the wilderness to the land of plenty, but still there were enemies to fight and land to conquer. Consider the lessons about bread and prosperity, as well as remembrance and thankfulness contained in this passage:

Keep and live out the entire commandment that I'm commanding you today so that you'll live and prosper and enter and own the land that God promised to your ancestors. Remember every road that God led you on for those forty years in the wilderness, pushing you to your limits, testing you so that he would know what you were made of, whether you would keep his commandments or not. He put you through hard times. He made you go hungry. Then he fed you with manna, something neither you nor your parents knew anything about, so you would learn that men and women don't live by bread only; we live by every word that comes from God's mouth. Your clothes didn't wear out and your feet didn't blister those forty years. You learned deep in your heart that God disciplines you in the same ways a father disciplines his child.

So it's paramount that you keep the commandments of God, your God, walk down the roads he shows you and reverently respect him. God is about to bring you into a good land, a land with brooks and rivers, springs and lakes, streams out of the hills and through the valleys. It's a land of wheat and barley, of vines and figs and pomegranates, of olives, oil, and honey. It's land where you'll never go hungry - always food on the table and a roof over your head. It's a land where you'll get iron out of rocks and mine copper from the hills.

After a meal, satisfied, bless God, your God, for the good land he has given you.

Make sure you don't forget God, your God, by not keeping his commandments, his rules and regulations that I command you today Make sure that when you eat and are satisfied, build pleasant houses and settle in, see your herds and flocks flourish and more and more money come in, watch your standard of living going up and up - make sure you don't become so full of yourself and your things that you forget God, your God,

the God who delivered you from Egyptian slavery;
the God who led you through that huge and fearsome wilderness,
those desolate, arid badlands crawling with fiery snakes and scorpions;
the God who gave you water gushing from hard rock;
the God who gave you manna to eat in the wilderness, something your ancestors had never heard of, in order to give you a taste of the hard life, to test you so that you would be prepared to live well in the days ahead of you.

If you start thinking to yourselves, "I did all this. And all by myself. I'm rich. It's all mine!" - well, think again. Remember that God, your God, gave you the strength to produce all this wealth so as to confirm the covenant that he promised to your ancestors - as it is today.

If you forget, forget God, your God, and start taking up with other gods, serving and worshiping them, I'm on record right now as giving you firm warning: that will be the end of you; I mean it - destruction. You'll go to your doom - the same as the nations God is destroying before you; doom because you wouldn't obey the Voice of God, your God.

Deuternomy 8 (from THE MESSAGE: The Bible in Contemporary Language © 2002 by Eugene H. Peterson. All rights reserved.)

Grace and peace,

Ron

Receiving hospitality

Some years ago I traveled in Panama on a mission trip with a group of teenage youth. We walked through a neighborhood (not the poorest, and not the richest, but nonetheless, people of very humble means) inviting the children and their parents to come to a gospel meeting that the local church was having every evening. These families were very, very poor in comparison to United States families. In the middle of one particularly steamy afternoon, one of the families we were visiting showed their hospitality to my two young companions and myself by inviting us to share some refreshment with them. I politely declined, but the head of the household would not hear of it. One of the children was dispatched to get a Coca-Cola, and the mother went into the corner that was a kitchen to prepare something. Perhaps this family remembered the words of the Hebrew writer:

Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.
- Hebrews 13:2 - NRSV

We certainly knew that we were no angels. If God had given us wings, we might have been too tempted to fly away. Out of embarrassment. I looked over into the eyes my partners to see if they understood just what was about to happen. Both gave me a quick nod of comprehension. We had been clearly warned, more than once, to be careful about what we ate and drank. The local water supply was such that food or drink prepared from it could easily inflict a fairly severe physical revenge upon us. But these young people understood clearly the issues. Whatever we were about to eat, however carefully prepared, however tasty, it held the potential to make us all really ill. On top of that, the cost of this afternoon's refreshment was easily equivalent to several hours' worth of labor for the father. And because of the brevity of our stay, we knew that it was highly unlikely that we would ever be able to repay them. Yet we all understood that to decline would be to inflict the worst possible insult upon this humble family.

We smiled. They smiled. We ate. It was delicious. We drank. It was cold. We smiled bigger. We gave them our sincere thanks, and continued on with our afternoon's work. God, in his traveling mercies, protected us from any unintended negative consequences. Instead he filled our hearts with fond memories of warm conversation and cool refreshment in the midst of a hot day. All of this with a beautiful family who clearly understood the biblical notion of hospitality.

Hear the words of Jesus:

"When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous."
- Luke 14:12-14 - NRSV

Now, it wasn't Sunday when we had our Panamanian banquet, and the elements of the meal were not those we use for the Lord's Supper, but I hope that we all realize that there was something holy about that meal. The sacred and the mundane are not separated, not encased, but connected permeably, so that each of these flows from one to the other in our lives. Partaking of the bread at the Lord's Table can never be completely removed from whether or not we share hunger-preventing bread with the poor whom we encounter. When things are right, the richer will share with the poorer. The girls and I would certainly have been much more comfortable if we could have treated this humble family to the banquet of their lives, but God chose to use their generosity to teach us a lesson about what real hospitality really means.

One of these days I hope that God repays this family for their kindness. Something bigger than a Coca-Cola and a snack. Perhaps it will please God at the end of time (or the beginning of eternity?) when we are all in heaven to allow the girls and I to bring a meal to the heavenly table of this beautiful family. Not that we could or would be the host; no, that will be God's place. The girls and I will merely be the servants of God, showing respect, showing hospitality, bringing providence, where both hospitality and providence are due.

Who will want to be at the table with us?

Grace and peace,

Ron

It's all about bread

In 1 Samuel 25, the biblical historian tells this fascinating story about David. Having lost favor with King Saul, David has become an outcast hiding in the desert, the mountains, the desolate places in Palestine. Over time David accumulates a small army of fellow outcasts who accept him as their unquestioned leader. David's little army hides out in the vicinity of the huge estates of a very wealthy man, Nabal. Whether it is land, or grain, or animals, or servants, Nabal has exceedingly more of it than any one family can need or use. The presence of David and his cohort protects Nabal's prosperity from the violence which is frequent here in the outlands. Even the wild animals have a hard time getting to Nabal's flocks because of the shielding presence of these soldiers. And, unlike most wandering bands of soldiers, they are scrupulous about not taking any of Nabal's livestock for their own consumption. Nabal is, after all, a fellow child of Israel.

There is peace until the time of the sheep shearing. Then Nabal has his wife Abigail supervise this feast that is literally fit for a king. Except there is no king, and there are none of the king's people. Just Nabal. Nabal has enough food to gorge for days, and enough wine to stay drunk through the entire feast. David sends his men to ask for some food as a sign of hospitality and as a gift of thanks for the protection that they offer. Perhaps Nabal thinks like many people who read this story today: David is only some Mafioso who wants protection money. David is some guerilla whom loyalty to the king demands that he not support him (but a person who is too dangerous to report). Nabal hastily rebuffs them. His wealth is his wealth. This answer makes David furious. Just before David wipes Nabal and his people from the face of the earth, Abigail brings 200 loaves of bread and five cooked sheep (and a lot of other food and delicacies) to feed David's people. In a pinch. In a hurry. She saves the day, even though she cannot save her husband from the wrath of God.

Why is David so angry? Is it because his will has been thwarted? Is he really just some thug whose gang has been dishonored? If this is all that it is, then why is God angry enough to respond in this way? Some readers of the text say that the historian is only trying to cover up for the David that later becomes the king. I don't think so.

Nabal violates two different basic principles of his culture and Torah: the principle of hospitality and a principle of social justice - those without food must be fed. First, when someone comes to visit us, it is only good manners to offer them food and drink; we will not let them go hungry but will offer them the best of whatever we have available. Second, how can we stuff ourselves to the point of nausea and let the excess rot when there are those who live only minutes away who are going hungry? How can Nabal do this? How can we do this?

At the same time, these principles are somehow connected with this celebration, this feast of Nabal. If this celebration had any religious content or background (we can't be sure, but if it didn't, it should have), then how can a person celebrate their thankfulness to God in such a lavish way and know that someone on their porch remains hungry? Surely such behavior would make God furious. These same principles explain why Jesus is so careful to see to the feeding of those who have come to hear him.

Then Jesus called his disciples to him and said, "I have compassion for the crowd, because they have been with me now for three days and have nothing to eat; and I do not want to send them away hungry, for they might faint on the way." The disciples said to him, "Where are we to get enough bread in the desert to feed so great a crowd?" Jesus asked them, "How many loaves have you?" They said, "Seven, and a few small fish." Then ordering the crowd to sit down on the ground, he took the seven loaves and the fish; and after giving thanks he broke them and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And all of them ate and were filled; and they took up the broken pieces left over, seven baskets full. Those who had eaten were four thousand men, besides women and children.
Mt 15:32-39 - NRSV

Somehow, when we come together on the first day of the week to share communion, that solemn feast, that bread and that wine are connected with how we deal with bread the rest of the week. If we are to rightly celebrate this feast in the presence of God, wisdom and compassion (and perhaps even self-protection) require that we think about the needs for bread in our community and in our world. The Lord's Supper is a part of our weekly living, after all. It is sacred, but not separate. It is holy, but it is not wholly removed from how we live life.

Give us grateful hearts, our Father,
for all thy mercies, and
make us mindful of the needs of others;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.
- Common Book of Prayer

God willing, we will talk more about this tomorrow.

For you I pray blessings, and the wisdom to use them wisely -

Ron

Fishing around for some bread

Have we ever really understood the importance of "bread" to the people of God? How does the symbol connect with the reality? What does it mean to break bread, to share bread? What does the history of bread have to do with the present and the future of bread? I believe that the answers to these questions are more important that we might imagine at first. To help us get a glimmer of the significance of the little word describing this hugely significant idea, we will consider today some relevant scriptures from the life of Jesus and then conclude with a prayer.

Then Jesus called his disciples to him and said, "I have compassion for the crowd, because they have been with me now for three days and have nothing to eat; and I do not want to send them away hungry, for they might faint on the way." The disciples said to him, "Where are we to get enough bread in the desert to feed so great a crowd?" Jesus asked them, "How many loaves have you?" They said, "Seven, and a few small fish." Then ordering the crowd to sit down on the ground, he took the seven loaves and the fish; and after giving thanks he broke them and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And all of them ate and were filled; and they took up the broken pieces left over, seven baskets full. Those who had eaten were four thousand men, besides women and children.
Mt 15:32-39 - NRSV

He said also to the one who had invited him, "When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous."
Lk 14:12-14 - NRSV

I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh." . . . . So Jesus said to them, "Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever."
Jn 6:48-59 - NRSV

While they were eating, Jesus took a loaf of bread, and after blessing it he broke it, gave it to the disciples, and said, "Take, eat; this is my body." Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks he gave it to them, saying, "Drink from it, all of you; for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. I tell you, I will never again drink of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom." When they had sung the hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.
Mt 26:26-30 - NRSV

As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. But they urged him strongly, saying, "Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over." So he went in to stay with them. When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight.
Lk 24:28-31 - NRSV

When they had gone ashore, they saw a charcoal fire there, with fish on it, and bread. Jesus said to them, "Bring some of the fish that you have just caught." So Simon Peter went aboard and hauled the net ashore, full of large fish, a hundred fifty-three of them; and though there were so many, the net was not torn. Jesus said to them, "Come and have breakfast." Now none of the disciples dared to ask him, "Who are you?" because they knew it was the Lord. Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same with the fish. This was now the third time that Jesus appeared to the disciples after he was raised from the dead.
Jn 21:9-14 - NRSV

A prayer for the bread

Lord Jesus Christ,
because you broke bread with the poor,
you were looked on with contempt.

Because you broke bread with the sinful and outcast,
you were looked on as ungodly.

Because you broke bread with the joyful,
you were called a winebibber and a glutton.

Because you broke bread in the upstairs room
you sealed your acceptance of the way of the cross.

Because you broke bread on the road to Emmaus,
you made scales fall from the disciples' eyes.

Because you broke bread and shared it,
we will do so, too,
and ask your blessing.
- San Antonio Conference 1989

May God bless us as we break bread today with those whom we love.

Grace and peace,

Ron

Rock and sand

Today, a scripture, a prayer, and a meditation.

"Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell - and great was its fall!"

Now when Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowds were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as their scribes.
- Mt 7:24-29 - NRSV

Walter Brueggemann has written a prayer specifically for this scripture:

No more sinking sand

God of heaven and lord of earth,
Tamer of heaven, lover of earth,
sovereign over the waters that surge,
provider for birds, beasts, and fish,
chooser of Israel and commander of all humanity.
Your vistas remind us
of how close and small we keep our horizons,
how much we blink at your power, and wince from your justice,
how much we waver in the face of your commanding mercy.
You, you, you only, you, God of heaven and lord of earth.
Comes the rain upon our parade,
and the floods upon our nations,
and the winds upon our personal configurations,
Comes your shattering and your reconfiguring
in ways we doubt or we fear.
We discover yet again, how sandy we are,
with the quaking of our foundations
and our fantasized firmaments.
We are filled with trembling and nightmares that disturb.
And then you-rock-solid-stable-reliable-sure
You rock against our sand,
You rock of ages,
You rock that is higher than us treading water,
You rock of compassion -
be compassionate for us, our loved ones
and all of our needy neighbors,
You rock of abidingness for our sick
and for those long loved, lingering memories,
dead and in your care,
You rock of justice for the nations,
fed up with our hate,
exhausted by the greed of our several tribes,
You rock of communion in our loneliness,
rock of graciousness in our many modes of gracelessness.
Come be present even here and there, there and here,
Move us from our sandy certitudes to your grace-filled risk,
Move us to become more rock-like
in compassion and abidingness and justice,
Move us to be more like you in our neighborliness
and in our self-regard.
Yes, yes, yes - move us that we may finally
stand on the solid rock, no more sinking sand.
God of heaven, Lord of earth,
hear our resolve, heal our unresolve,
that we may finish in sure trust and in glad obedience.
We already know what to do by our careful pondering
of you. Amen.

May we learn to be like a rock like God is a rock:
steadfast in resolve and in mercy,
strong in faith and flexibility,
loving through both compassion and justice.
May we realize that if we will be a rock like God is a rock:
Crashing waves and smashing storms
are to be expected.
Tumbling stones and careless birds
will scar and mark.
Heat will bake and frost will flake.
Still our steadfastness and shade
will be landmark and comfort to those
who have yet to dig down
to the real Rock.
The real rock on which we rest.
Imitate the Rock.
Imitate Jesus.
As unreal as it seems,
it pleases God for this to be the plan.

Grace and peace,

Ron

Who's prejudiced?

He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: "Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, 'God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.' But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, 'God, be merciful to me, a sinner!' I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted."
Luke 18:9-14 - NRSV

At first pass, the words of Jesus might have us think that this parable is about those who are humble before God, and those who are not. "For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted." And that point would not be unimportant. But this story is about much more than the relationships between humans and God.

Luke is careful to provide an introduction to the parable that gives the real interpretive clue here: "He told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt." The Pharisee is the "self-righteous" soul looking down at the "sinful" tax collector. The Pharisee's sin of pride against God is compounded by his arrogance toward his fellow worshiper, his fellow human being.

We can see the Pharisee speaking pridefully toward the tax collector, but in what way is the tax collector's treatment of the Pharisee humble? The tax collector stayed on the margins, on the boundary, and would not even come close to the other worshipers because of his self-perceived unworthiness. The Pharisee is standing by himself, too, but it seems apparent that he is doing so to avoid the contamination of his lesser company, and not as an act of humility. It seems intuitively obvious to say that we don't want to be like the Pharisee, but rather like the tax collector in this parable.

But are we innocent of similar prideful and demeaning acts? Are we so innocent of prejudice? I think that it is rare that we totally avoid these things. Let me demonstrate.

As most of us read this parable, we tend to read it with a certain unrealized prejudice. When we read or hear the word "Pharisee," we are already prepared to jump to the conclusion that something unpleasant is about to be said or done by that person. But is that what Jesus intended? We would readily admit, based on what we have heard about first century tax collectors, that the tax collector is totally out of character for tax collectors when he behaves in this pious, reverent, and humble manner. This is not what we would expect from a tax collector, after all.

Why then do we paint an entire fellowship of Jewish people, the Pharisees, with broad paint strokes as arrogant and prideful? I believe that this is a result of an interpretive prejudice that we have learned over the past centuries from the language of others. If the tax collector is out of character for his class, then why can't we see that this is what Jesus intended for us to see about the Pharisee as well? For the sake of the clarity and strength of the parable, doesn't it seem much more likely that the people to whom Jesus spoke the parable would be astonished that a well-behaved, Torah-loving, daily-prayerful Pharisee would behave in this prideful way? The contrast in character would make the wrongness of the behavior stand out that much more clearly.

The problem is that we tend to believe and use the language that we have been given instead of looking hard at the world around us and using our own judgment. Since we don't see a lot of real, Jewish Pharisees running around in our contemporary world, how does this affect us as we live our life this week? Let me give you one example.

Consider the rhetoric that we use about the poor in America. "They don't want to work." "Why should they work all day long and make less than they would if they were on welfare." "This is America: if they would only pull themselves up by their bootstraps, they could find a way to make a living and move up in the world." "They are shiftless and lazy." Are these statements true? Perhaps sometimes, but usually these arrogant truisms tell other people more about us than they do about the people of whom we speak.

This is especially risky for those who work with at-risk children. Yes, the behavior of these children frequently makes us cranky. But how much of that behavior is the result of severe traumas inflicted much earlier in their life? How much of that behavior is the result of unintentional trauma that we inflict by the names we call their behavior, or the pigeonholes we place them in because of that behavior? Should we be surprised if they behave like outsiders if we treat them as outsiders? I don't think that any of us does this intentionally, but aren't there ways that this kind of behavior sneaks up on us?

How about the families of these children? Yes, some of these people drive us nuts. But how might we be driving them nuts? Are we really always innocent? What are we doing that plays into their fears without realizing it? Do we think that it might be scary for a parent, already afraid that she is losing her child, to hear that her baby would rather spend his holiday with you than with her? I know how I would feel about that. How about their ability to come see their kids? Do we ever bemoan how seldom they visit these boys that we love? But can you imagine how difficult it is to support two other kids as a single parent while holding a barely-above minimum wage job? And then have to buy gas at $4.00 a gallon to get your piece of junk over 100 miles away from home and back?

We have to be careful that our good intentions don't lead us to unintentional arrogance and blindness. We need to remember that we're not just one generation away from poverty, but that if circumstances were to change, we could be just weeks or months away from that same kind of debilitating poverty ourselves. "But for the grace of God, there go I."

Which leads us back to the Pharisee. What if the Pharisee had prayed, "Lord, but for your grace, I would know the heartbreak of this tax collector. Show me how to help him." How much different would the world have been. If we can pray and enact this kind of prayer about those whom our lives touch, how much more powerful will our ministry be? How different will our world become?