Deuteronomy 8: 1-10
Ephesians 4: 25-5:2
John 6: 37-51
O God be in my mouth as I speak for you and fill this place with your great grace, that we may leave this place less of what we use to be and more of what we ought to be, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen
All that the Father gives to me
will come to me; and him who comes to me I will not cast out.
It is not often that I have the opportunity to preach a sermon that is a sequel. I do this with some hesitation since most of us know that sequels are usually not as good as the original.
Think for a moment about one of
my favorite summer movies, Raiders of the Lost Ark. Remember the sequel,
Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.
It stunk.
In fact the only sequel that I
can think that was better then the original is the second star trek movie, The
Wrath of Khan. Okay, you now all know what kind of movies I like to
watch. As my wife reminds it is lucky that a science fiction geek like myself
has insurance and can hold down a job.
But getting back to what I said
earlier, this morning’s sermon is my sequel to what is best described as The
Mystery of the Missing Box.
Three weeks ago, I told you
about my box of books that was lost when I shipped them to Virginia Seminary
this summer for my doctoral work. This morning, I am happy to report that that
the missing box has been found and is now sitting safely in my office here at
St. Martin’s. (The seminary sent it
back UPS.)
To paraphrase Scripture, All
that the father gives to me will come to me, even when you may have entrusted
it to the US post office.
Okay, I realize that is a
blatant misuse of our gospel text.
Jesus is talking about the bread
of life, not missing books but perhaps in attempt to bring you up to date you
will forgive a rather strained biblical exegesis.
So here is what happened, I
first heard the box had been located when we were out of town for a friend’s
wedding. The administrative assistant of my program sent me an email letting me
know my box had been found.
Of course the circumstances of
the discovery were frustrating. It seems that some seminary workers had brought
the box to the Continuing Education office and asked if it belonged to anyone
there.
The secretary asked them where
the box had been. Turns out that there is a new Pastoral Theology professor
coming to campus this fall.
My box with the priority mail
stickers and the address label that clearly says, “Fr. John McCard (care of)
The Center for Lifetime Theological Education” had been delivered to her office
by mistake. In other words, my box had been sitting in some absent professor’s
office for the entire three-week period I had been at Virginia seminary
As I mentioned in my prior
sermon, I thought at first when I lost the box that God was teaching me
something about letting go of things I thought were important. Or at least
learning to share the blessings I have been given with other people who might
also be C. S. Lewis fans.
Instead after hearing what
happened, I discovered that what God was really teaching me that it was wrong
to jump into my car, drive six hundred miles and run down two seminary mail
room workers.
Okay I am kidding about running
them over, but part of my sequel to this story is that I discovered that some
my own initial thoughts are not as charitable as they should be.
Furthermore along with these
thoughts, I was surprised to discover that I was disappointed the books were
found so quickly. I think this might have been due to that innate clergy martyr
complex that some of us have. Clergy like to take on the burdens of the world and we have this
annoying habit of making sure that everyone knows it.
We forget that our Lord said
that if you are fasting, you are supposed to wash your face, put on your best
clothes and “ do not” let everyone know what you are doing.We forget that Jesus
was the suffering servant who died for our sins and that today in a world where
people still suffer, God needs messengers of hope not doom and gloom disciples.
So even though the discovery of
my box has ended the possibility of a year’s worth of weekly updates, my
experience suggests that a good part of living the Christian life is keeping
this idea of hope in perspective.
For Christians, this is
different from resignation. Resignation to my mind implies that we just endure
the pain and disappointment of human life without a sense of purpose. And upon
reflection, I think this is where I was mistaken in how I understood my
experience with the missing box.
I was a little too anxious to
embrace the suffering part without seeing it in the context of Jesus’ complete
message. And, if you look closely at John’s gospel, Jesus spends a lot of time
reassuring his disciples, Giving them hope that he is way, the truth, and the
life.
Our Scripture this morning even
tells us that Jesus is living bread, the bread of eternal life, that came down
from heaven. And when Jesus speaks to his disciples in John’s gospel he shares
with his followers words of hope.
And for us to be effective
messengers for Christ, we have to seem ourselves as a people that have this
kind of hope, not as I said earlier those gloom and doom disciples.
Now please don’t misunderstand,
this is not the sort of pollanyanish hope that denies the reality of suffering
in our world. Instead our Lord offers us the kind of hope that faces human pain
with the conviction that Easter resurrection comes after Good Friday.
And that we have our Lord’s
promise that he will be with us in whatever difficult moments may come whether
we are at the graveside of our parents or sitting late at night in a hospital
bed holding the hands of our children.
As I said in my earlier sermon,
quoting Anne Lamott, Giving up hope is really only giving up the hope of
getting your own outcome to happen.
This is what the disciples gave
up when they watched Jesus die upon the cross.
And that is what we give up,
when we acknowledge that our feeble attempts at controlling our lives, our
careers, our relationships, even the US Postal service all fail when they do
not see that the only hope worth having in life begins with Christ.
It is only when we put aside our
human pride, embrace our own brokenness, that we begin truly to live. That is
the moment that God’s hope, that living bread, begins to change our lives and
brings us closer to the kind of person that a loving God desires us to be.
Of course between you and me, I
still don’t think sequels are ever as good as the original. But thankfully in
this case, this experience gave me a chance to remember where I should put my
trust.
And it is my “hope” that you
will this as well.