"A
Morsel and a Thimbleful"
Luke
17:1-6
First
Presbyterian Church
The
Reverend Donald E. Ray
October
7, 2007
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As a meal for our physical bodies, this morsel of bread and
thimbleful size cup are absurd. As
nourishment and refreshment, they are but a tease. The
Advent Love Feast offers a piece of Danish and cup of juice that at least
tickles the taste buds, but not standard communion fare.
Bishop Fulton Sheen, was in the nineteen fifties, one of
the first television preachers of note. Would
that others who have since claimed a place on the tube had followed his style. On
his weekly program he just talked informally before a live audience, sometimes
using a chalkboard to visually highlight a point. He
would joke that a cherub must wipe the board when he stepped away because it was
always clean when he returned to use it again. Even
my father, who was seriously anti-catholic, liked Bishop Sheen so we watched the
show regularly.
Bishop Sheen said that one needs a divine sense of humor to
appreciate the sacraments. From its
beginning in the new twist Jesus gave to the Passover observed with his original
disciples, through its evolution as a community meal in the early church, to a
morsel of bread and a tiny cup, Communion has followed a twisting course. Debates
about what happens in the bread and cup and the apostolic succession of the
hands that lift them up attempt to validate it in our understanding. Bishop
Sheen’s point, I think is, that after years of such conversations, if we take
the forms too seriously we only become entangled in the symbolism.
This morsel and thimbleful provide a contemporary parallel
to Jesus’ mustard seed faith. Like
the disciples requested of Jesus, “increase our faith,” perhaps if we used a
bigger piece of bread, a larger cup, what we do at this table might seem more
reasonable.
When the disciples requested an increase in faith, what
they were really asking was: give us greater understanding so we can unravel the
knotty questions and disputes; give us more power so that we can impress others
and validate our authority; make us more confident in the face of challenges and
threats; give us peace from our doubts; give us the means to relieve our
struggles and pain.
Luke sets the apostles quest for more faith in response to
Jesus’ directions to be generous in forgiving. That’s
a tough one to practice. It is
usually when we are up against the tough things in life that we want more from
God; someone we love faces life threatening tragedy; we’re caught in the
down-sizing squeeze and our life style is collapsing; a relationship, our own or
that of someone dear to us is breaking apart. I
guarantee when you are in such circumstances, someone will urge you to have
faith—if you have enough, it will all work out. And
when it doesn’t, the logical conclusion is we didn’t have enough faith so
guilt piles on top of suffering the consequences.
In times of desperation, we feel our faith shaken and plea
for replenishment. Often our plea
really is for resolution of the predicament so that we may regain our faith. But
faith is our link with God. That
link is not broken and while it may be clouded and strained, comfort and
direction, and peace break through.
In the verse of Horatio Spafford:
When peace like a river attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul.
Faith is not insurance that requires having a large enough
policy, to be covered for whatever happens. Eugene
Peterson quotes Jesus’ response to the apostles asking for more faith; “You
don’t need more faith. There is no
‘more’ or ‘less’ in faith. If
you have a bare kernel of faith, say the size of a poppy seed,…(Luke 17:6 MSG)
In a casual conversation a month or so ago, Tom admitted
that he didn’t always remember his sermons after he has preached them. I
can resonate with that. Filling in
at different churches over the past years, the risk of repeating myself because
I don’t remember hasn’t been so much of a hazard as it is now when I am more
frequently in the same pulpit. Tom
went on to say that one he does remember he titled “Trust God, Period” I
remember that one too and because I find myself more often using ‘trust’ in
place of the overwrought words, faith and belief, I went to the archives on our
web site and reread it.
In that sermon Tom said, “I do not trust God to do what I
think God should do. I do not trust
God to do what I want God to do. I
do not trust God to do any specific thing. I
just trust God with my life and death. Period.”
(First Presbyterian Archives, Feb.
11, 2007)
Tom closed that sermon with a quote from his text in
Jeremiah. Jesus said with a grain of
faith one can cause a tree to leap into the sea.
Jeremiah wrote; “Blessed is the (one) who trusts in the Lord, whose
trust is the Lord. He (she) is like
a tree planted by the water, that sends out its roots by the stream, and does
not fear when heat comes, for its leaves remain green, and is not anxious in the
year of drought, for it does not cease to bear fruit.” (Jer.
17:7-8) Those of you who may be
taking the opportunity to do Worship Arts this morning might find that a
meaningful image.
Ordering a tree to jump in the sea—that’s like bending
spoons and levitating furniture to demonstrate the dimensions of one’s belief.
Being a tree planted by the water is
the faith that gives strength in the face of challenges, comfort in time of
mourning, healing that makes the hurting whole, forgiving to move beyond the
wrongs and heal the wounded soul, joy at the very core of life.
John in his Gospel does not describe Jesus passing the
bread and the cup among the disciples declaring it his body and blood at the
last supper. But earlier, John
quotes Jesus as saying, “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me
and I in them.” (John 6:56) The
Jews disputed the cannibalism of it. Bishop
Sheen suggests a divine sense of humor to trust that in this morsel and
thimbleful is the seed of faith that the spirit of the one called Prince of
Peace may move us to be about peace making in the midst of a world in strife;
it’s the seed of faith that the God who is love can bear the fruit of love and
joy and peace in us; it’s the seed of faith that the God who forgives can grow
in us the patience, and compassion and forgiving that doesn’t keep score.
Two weeks ago, I sat in the sanctuary watching as Libby
Nord danced the crucifixion. I’ve
seen her dance it at least twice before, but I was still moved to tears.
When she talked about dance in her life and in worship and then danced
the dance of joy, again I was moved to tears—but it was different. At
that dance, I was smiling. The tears
weren’t so burning. It was heart
warming and invigorating.
It’s more than long enough that we have rehearsed only
the agony of execution in Communion. The
morsel and the thimbleful are, John again quotes Jesus, “true food and true
drink.” (John 6:55)
Faith is not the meal at which we gorge our selves from
despair, requiring ever larger portions. Faith
is our willingly trustful walk in God. Faith
is the seed of growth. It takes but
a morsel and a thimbleful to be the feast of life.
Amen.
© Copyright 2007 First Presbyterian Church