Sermon for Proper 13 B - August 5, 2012

Sermon for Proper 13 B

August 5, 2012

As the rock poet Bruce Springsteen sang:

Everybody's got a hungry heart

Everybody needs a place to rest

Everybody wants to have a home

Don't make no difference what 

        nobody says

Ain't nobody like to be alone

Everybody's got a hungry heart 

When we are wandering and lost

on the lonely days of life

and the confusing paths we often take

we are left wondering if our hunger will ever be satisfied.

God’s ancient people Israel were fans of Springsteen.

Who knew, right?

In the book of Exodus, the Hebrew slaves

are liberated from anything that robbed them of life,

most especially Egypt’s massive economy

and its abuse of foreign workers.

But after crossing the sea into freedom

           they discovered freedom felt lonely.

           Liberation was risky.

           Emancipation was harder than being stuck in the past.

They knew they didn’t get out of Egypt on their own.

           And they knew that Moses guy wasn’t all that great.

           Some other mysterious presence was traveling with them

                     and watching over them

                     and setting them free from everything that robbed life from them.

But, when they got out on the wilderness trail

           and they felt their stomachs rumble,

           it got a lot harder to trust that traveling presence.

They murmured, they grumbled, they whined.

           You know, anytime I go on a youth trip

                     like the National Youth Gathering or camp,

                     my number 1 rule is always: no whining.

                                It drives me nuts.

           So imagine Moses and God having to listen

                     to all that whining and complaining:

                                We’re hungry.

                                We’re lost.

                                We’re thirsty.

It turns out God was more compassionate and patient

           than Moses was, or I would be, with the people.

                     God heard their grumbling. God listened.

                                This is the first bit of good news in the story.

                                God listens to the people.

                                God hears the cries of the hungry.

                                God’s heart is full of compassion.

So the second bit of good news

           is God responded.

                     A bunch of quail flew into the camp at night.

                                Catch them! Pluck them!

                                Grill them up with chipotle sauce!

                                          Those little quail legs weren’t very big,

                                          but they were succulent and there were plenty.

Then in the morning,

           they went out and saw the morning dew on the ground.

           And as it evaporated, it left a fine flaky something or other

                     that was like free toast for breakfast.

           They didn’t really know what it was,

                     so they called it: English muffins.

No, they called it: What is this stuff?  or in Hebrew, Manna?

Everybody’s got a hungry heart,

           and these people were fed and satisfied,

even if they didn’t know what breakfast was.

But there was just one stipulation,

           one limitation, one requirement from the Lord:

                     Only gather enough for each person for one day.

                     This is not the God of Costco,

                                where you buy enough for a 3months at a time.

                     This is the God of the corner market,

                                where you stop by every day for each day’s provisions,

                                and you say  “hi” and get to know the store owner.

The wilderness texts of Exodus

           are a central image for a life of faith:

                     God’s mercy, justice, love, and power set us free

                     to live an entirely new kind of life.

                                But that new life is a journey of discovery.

                                It’s a kind of wandering that can feel like

                                          we are lost and lonely and hungry.

                                Some days of this life of faith

                                          can leave us murmuring and grumbling

                                          and complaining against God or at least

                                                     our leaders and our neighbors.

                     We’re hungry!  We’re thirsty! 

Doesn’t anybody care about us anymore?

Are we being led on this journey

or are we utterly lost and alone?

Yeah, we can get some food now and then

but is it random food that comes from a heartless universe

or is it a gift of compassion and creative generosity?

That was the lesson God had for the ancient people of faith

           and it is ours today:

                     Do we receive each day’s provisions

                                as a random occurrence in a cold, empty world,

                                as a marketplace battle to get the most we can,

                                or is it all a gift of a compassionate, generous God?

Because if all the manna we collect along the way

to keep us going

is actually a sign, a word, a thoughtfully placed gift

then not only are we being led and watched over and directed

we are also deeply and profoundly loved.

Jesus was hanging out with a hungry crowd.

           He had just fed them,

                     and they followed him hoping not only to get dinner,

                      but breakfast and lunch and a snack and dessert.

           But they missed the lesson that came with the feeding:

                     Listen to your stomach’s hunger

                     and let it teach you about your soul’s hunger.

                                Everybody’s got a hungry heart.

                                And the food that satisfies our human lives

                                          is the divine presence that fills us up

                                          every moment, every day,

                                                     every one, every thing.

Jesus is embodying that gracious and merciful presence

           in his very being, his very body,

                     his words and signs and life and death, and resurrection.

           But people risk missing it,

                     and listening only to the stomach’s hunger

                     and not to the corresponding heart’s hunger.

           And it’s not that the stomach’s hunger isn’t important.

                     It’s that we are never satisfied with anything,

                                even a full stomach and healthy body,

                                if we don’t have full hearts and fed souls.

           In John’s Gospel, Jesus is known as the incarnation of the Word,

                     the enfleshment of God’s own purpose and meaning,

                                the bodily presence of the mysterious spiritual presence.

           In Jesus, the material and the spiritual come together,

                     and cannot be separated,

                     so that both hungers are satisfied,

                     and never one without the other, bread and love,

                                and we are truly filled and satiated and glad.

Like the Israelites,

           we tend to be a people who complain,

           complain that we aren’t happy and comfortable and stuffed

                     every minute of the day, every day of the week.

Our insatiable hunger is a symptom

of our fearful or prideful inability

to trust the holy presence that moves with us

through time and space.

Yet, God is more patient than Moses was or I am.

           God hears our cries, and gives us exactly what we need:

                     Daily provisions.  Enough for the journey today.

           Why did God only give enough manna every day for that one day?

           Why did the manna rot if anyone collected more than a day’s provisions?

                     Because our hunger is only satisfied

                     when every day our stomachs and our hearts are filled.

                                Everyday we must learn to trust again

                                that we do not wander alone,

                                          but journey with the one who loves us

                                          and watches over us and hears us and feeds us.

The lesson of the wilderness wandering

           and of Jesus feeding the crowds

           is that we learn how to receive everything in life every day and moment,

                     as a gift from the holy generous giver.

The good news is that every day

           is a day lived in God, with God, filled with love and mercy.

Every day God is listening and responding,

           providing and sustaining.

Where is your manna today?

What’s falling from the sky into your life today?

Where is your “what is this?” that surprised you?

It can be whatever you understand,

or whatever makes no sense,

whatever is profoundly miraculous,

or whatever is mundanely normal.

“What is it?”  It is the bread of life,

it is God’s gift to bring sustenance, joy, and energy to you and me.

It is everything Jesus was about.

It is bread and love.

What is it?  It is God’s gift to us!

           We are blessed to know this and name it and give thanks for it.

Like so many Olympic athletes,

           we can work hard and train and plan for years,

           but when that Gold medal comes,

                     it’s like it dropped out of heaven

                     and you can’t help but be grateful to the giver of all of life.

I read a story about ranchers in the Texas panhandle

           last year in the midst of the long drought.

                     When it suddenly rained one day,

                     all they could do was think: It’s like manna from heaven!

                    

These stories aren’t so much about once in a while miracles,

but about the enchantment of our daily lives with God.

I’m not saying there aren’t miraculous things that happen.

I’m saying it is all so miraculous and all from God

that whatever it is we call a miracle

is just a matter of degree or frequency.

Through faith, through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus,

           we have a life with God that is never alone

                     even when we’re lonely,

           never empty even when we’re hungry,

           never heartless even when we’re hurting.

Eat and drink up all of life’s gifts as gifts from God,

the God who hears and provides

who is the hunger of our hearts’ desire

and the groaning of our souls’ yearning.

Through faith we can live as if

every bite and drink is a sacrament, a holy gift.

So we have this bread and wine from Christ today

to lead us toward the sacred vision of life in God

           in all things and all times and all people.

Because the bread that satisfies,

the bread that is Jesus,

 is relationship and connection and unity,

divine and human relationship bound together in bread and love.

Everybody’s got a hungry heart,

and our stomachs and souls are satisfied

 when we share bread together as a gift from heavn,

           giving thanks to God for Jesus

                     in the Spirit which is so near now.