
| Note: No sermon is quite the same when you read it. You miss the inflections, the expression that you gain in the hearing. The words below are only a close approximation of the sermon, taken from handwritten notes. Nevertheless, the words (as best as can be deciphered!) are shared with you here. The Webmeister |
Fourth Sunday in Lent 2 Chronicles 36: 14-23; Psalm 122; Ephesians 2: 4-10; John 6:4-15 TTHE GREAT WRITER Evelyn Underhill, in describing the feeding of the five thousand, writes that "[w]hen all were fed, when the job was done, they gathered up twelve baskets in full; one basket for each apostle. God does not starve his staff; He always leaves them . . . with enough food in hand for the day. Give without reserve, and you will gather up enough to fill your own lunch basket." Give without reserve. What does that mean? What does it mean to give without reserve? If you looked at an article on the front of the Houston Chronicle this past Friday, you would've read about how tired many Houstonians are of giving to our neighbors in Louisiana in the wake of hurricanes Katrina and Rita. The writer of the article describes a survey conducted by a sociologist, to which most respondents in Houston replied that evacuees are a nuisance, that they have given little in return to our city that brought them in just eight months ago. Respondents in the survey seemed to feel that they've already given enough. They've volunteered, they've written checks, and they've those donated small bottles of shampoo and soaps from hotels. Yes, the city of Houston may be an individualistic city, but during the efforts of Katrina and Rita, we came together. But now our city is tired. Tired of giving. And my question, to all of us, is why did we give? When we gave, was there something we wanted in return? Was there something that we wanted, but maybe didn't say? Maybe we wanted lower crime rates. Maybe we wanted a stronger economy. Or maybe we gave just to feel good about ourselves. Whatever the reasons, this survey in the Chronicle indicates that "giving fatigue" is widespread in our city. For me that article poses an unanswerable question, but one that is worth asking, can we give too much? And if so, how do we know? If you listen to the Gospel this morning, the answer to that question becomes quite clear. And the answer, is no, you can't. Give without reserve, and you will gather up enough to fill your own lunch basket. Or as Anne Frank once wrote, "[n]o one has ever become poor by giving." Winston Churchill reminds us that while "[w]e make a living by what we get, we make a life by what we give." Our city might be tired of giving, but in truth be told, our giving has only begun. As part of the body of Christ, we have an obligation to show hospitality, even to the inhospitable. As Christians, we may give without reserve because our hope and our conviction is that God will show up and provide. There was once a man and his wife, who had three young children. And one day, after coming back from a football game, the man entered the house and found his wife lying on the floor unconscious. He called an ambulance, she was taken to the hospital, and she was declared dead of a heart attack. She was in her mid 30's. When her body was taken to the funeral home to be prepared for burial, the man and his three children spent some time privately with her body in one of the visitation rooms. The young children were naturally curious, and so they walked around and under the casket looking at it from all different angles. And the youngest child, a boy his father if he could kiss his mother. The father replied, "Of course son, but she won't be able to kiss you back." And so the boy did. Afterwards, the oldest child took the younger two outside the funeral home, and they each found a smooth pebble. When they walked back into the room with their father and their mother's body, the three children each took their pebbles, and one by one, they placed them in their mother's hands. When they were all done, they turned and said to their father, "We can go now Daddy." Those children gave without reserve to their mother. They had nothing to give her, but God provided. God provided three pebbles. Lest you think those three pebbles were insignificant gifts, know that today they still rest in their mother's hand, and will for years to come. And they aren't just rocks, those pebbles are a part of each one of those three children they are a part of each of them. No longer pebbles, they are living breathing sacraments, outward and visible signs of an inward and spiritual grace. Those pebbles are a part of them that is going with their mother into the ground and into eternity. God provides when we have nothing left to give. Give without reserve, and you will gather up enough to fill your own lunch basket. Three pebbles. Five loaves. Two fish. These are just a few of the things that we give that multiply themselves as they are being distributed. The five loaves and the two fish were multiplied by Jesus in their distribution so that there was enough left over to fill twelve baskets. And the effect of the three pebbles was multiplied through the sense of peace they offered to those three children throughout time. If we are limited by our resources, God will provide for us. But first we have to be willing to give. We have to be ready to give because as we all have heard and know so well that it is through giving that we receive. It is through giving without conditions placed upon it. Giving without expecting something in return. Giving without reserve. Free, delightful giving. When we give that way, without expectation or other strings attached, we are then opened to receive. This world is waiting for your gift. This world needs what you have to offer. And this city is thirsting for the gifts you have been given that can make our city a better place to live for all of us. Give without reserve, and you will gather up enough to fill your own lunch basket. Give without reserve, and God will provide. Amen The Reverend James M. L. Grace March 26, 2006 *Past sermons may be found here. |