July 28, 2024

10th Sunday after Pentecost, Pastor Lois Pallmeyer, July 28, 2024

Before I read the gospel, I invite you to take a moment to stand with your feet firmly beneath you. (Or if you remain seated, feel the solid strength of the chair.) Breath in, and feel gravity’s pull on you, grounding you in the deepest powers of the earth. Listen to these words from that passage from Ephesians again: May Christ dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love. As you listen to the gospel, sink back on your heels, and sense roots stretching from your spine right into the very heart of God.

The Holy Gospel according to John, the sixth chapter….  (John 6:1-21)

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Dear Friends in Christ, God’s grace and peace be with you. Amen.

Pardon me, but your roots are showing. Sometimes this is a rude reminder to a person who is a week late for their haircare. But maybe it should just be a loving boost to those who are showing their best selves.

I marvel at the power of roots when I’m in my garden. Each plant pulls up whatever nutrients it needs, in whatever measure it needs to produce fruit. How does that happen? How can those spindly little pepper or cucumber roots I buried in May stretch down into a muddy mix of compost and clay in my garden bed, to find just the right combination of minerals to produce the most beautiful assortment of fresh green vegetables?

The plants never seem to worry that there won’t be enough. They simply stretch their roots down further and find all that is needed. Their roots are showing, and it’s beautiful.

I’m afraid mine might show with a little less grace and beauty. Like Philip and Andrew[i], If asked how I might try to feed a crowd, I might become a little edgy. 5000 people? More? Oof. Even six months wages couldn’t buy enough food for a party that size. All those guests, hungry for something delicious, and me, feeling inadequate and unprepared in the kitchen.

It’s understandable, of course. My roots are in our society’s encouragement to super-size, stock up, and to hoard everything, as if at any minute, I may be facing a fierce wind, ready to topple my boat and sink my home, my bank account, and all my earthly possessions into the deep. I’ve been raised in the myth of scarcity, that fosters over-consumption.

My roots are fed too by a culture that wants me to focus on the inadequacies of what I bring to the table, rather than the openness of a world ready to receive anything I might offer. Our culture poisons us with the impression that we don’t have what it takes, bombarding us with messages that we’re not enough. We’re not smart enough. We’re not strong enough. We’re not pretty or rich enough. We’re not full of enough of whatever it seems we lack to be the people we should be.

It can immobilize us. We don’t have the wisdom we need to talk to a friend in a crisis, so we don’t call. We don’t have a beautiful enough home, so we don’t invite in the neighbor. We don’t have an eloquent message, so we don’t speak out against injustice. We don’t have a strong enough faith, so we don’t share a vision of God’s inclusive love to those who have heard something else.

A couple of loaves and a few fish, a milk-toast message and mediocre public speaking skills, but what is that when the whole world is starving? Well, as the little kid who offered his lunch might tell you, it’s a start.

That child’s generosity is the most miraculous part of the story for me. His roots are showing, and they’re gorgeous. He doesn’t worry about whether giving up his lunch will leave him hungry later, but simply trusts that it is enough. He is rooted in something more generous and life-giving than the fear of scarcity or of seeming inadequate. He is planted in the goodness of God’s ability to do amazing things with what little we bring, and it shows.

The gospel of John is always presenting us a Jesus whose roots show. Jesus taps into the extravagant power of God. He turns water into wine, and mud into eyesight. He walks on water and heals the sick. Jesus comes that we might have life and have it abundantly. Jesus, this Word made flesh, sends down roots into the very earth and draws up the great I Am[ii] to calm waves and multiply loaves, to resist the power of empire and fear, and turn back the power of death.

The world is full of the abundance of God and even our fears and worrisome focus on what isn’t there will not interfere with God’s ability to fill us, leaving enough for leftovers.

Of course, Jesus was not oblivious to the fact that there are far too many hungry people around the world, and we can’t be either. Some hunger for companionship, some for purpose or meaning, some for health or housing, but far too many are starving for food itself.

Truthfully, more than 1 in 10 persons globally cannot access the food they need to thrive[iii]. The roots of their crops are dried up from lack of water or intense heat, or because of a damaged climate. There are no nutrients left in their wounded fields, and they have nothing left to feed their children. It’s one thing to read a story of abundance when we live with more in our cupboards than we need, and our cucumber vines are dripping with fruit. But it’s quite different if we’re acknowledging a world full of people facing starvation.

This is where that child’s effort is most important to notice. Two fish and five loaves may not seem like much, but he gave what he had.

Can we do the same? Dear friends, below the surface of a culture that is built to convince us there’s not enough, and we’re not enough, our roots reach down into something deeper. We are grounded in the breadth and length and height and depth of love beyond understanding[iv]. You are rooted in the fullness of an abundant God. Take just a moment to tap into the bottomless grace which offers more than enough and find the generous spirit that feeds you. Follow the lead of that child in the gospel and watch what God can do.

Start with something that doesn’t overwhelm you. Deliver groceries to a neighbor who can’t get to the store. Drop off food in our bins for our neighborhood food shelf or offer to make a delivery. Help tend our vegetable gardens so we can share the produce. Join us this Tuesday to pack food at Feed My Starving Children. Sign up for a shift at Loaves and Fishes.

If you want to put your efforts toward changing things at a more systemic level, contribute to our 2nd Offering for July directed for ISAIAH[v].They organize faith communities to advocate for policies that reflect our shared values.  Economic and racial justice are central to their work. Or make an offering next month as our 2nd Offering will be directed toward ELCA world hunger[vi] initiatives. Our churchwide partners work to break the cycle of hunger and poverty both locally and globally. They do good work, and it shows. There are steps we can take, and the gospel reminds us that the smallest action can lead to remarkable outcomes.

Indeed, the one in whom we are rooted is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine. We are filled with all the fullness of God[vii]. It will start here, where just a scrap of bread will fill us beyond all comprehension and will change us into the very body of Christ, broken and given to feed a hungry world. Our roots will stretch into the endless abundance of the love of God and will equip us to feed the world.

Come and eat. God’s arms are wide open, and miraculously there is more than enough. Pardon me, but your roots are showing, and they’re absolutely beautiful. Thanks be to God.

 

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[i] John 6:1-21

[ii] The Greek in John 6:20 would literally translated, “And he said to them, ‘I am. Do not fear.’”

[iii] https://www.worldvision.org/hunger-news-stories/world-hunger-facts

[iv] Ephesians 3:14-21

[v] https://faithinaction.org/federation/isaiah/

[vi] ELCA World Hunger, https://www.elca.org/hunger

[vii] Ephesians 3:14-21