Meeting Christ at the Table of Connection:

A Lenten Sermon

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First Presbyterian Church Cranbury NJ — February 19, 2024

Mark 6: 30-40

It’s not very often that one of my seminary readings moves me to tears — but this book did.

 In her book, Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Kimmerer, an indigenous woman and botanist, thinks about the idea of gifts. As both a scientist and an indigenous woman raised to be with the land, she thinks about gifts in two ways. She thinks first about gifts with her love of strawberries…

When she was a girl Kimmerer would explore all around the land on her family’s house in upstate New York. And one day, as she was frolicking though old hay fields she stumbled upon patches of wild strawberries. She gasped, squealed, and jumped at the surprise delight she had just found. What a marvel it was for her to discover such a treasure trove of delicious ripe strawberries.

And It was through these chance encounters with wild strawberries in old hay fields that she began to really think about gifts. She began to see the world as one full of gifts that are simply scattered at our feet.  

And in her book she writes,

“Gifts exist in a realm of humility and mystery. A gift comes to you through no action of your own. [It’s] free, having moved toward you without your beckoning. It is not a reward. And yet it appears. Your only role is to be open-eyed and present.”

Kimmerer then thinks about the ways relationships are established through gifts in a story about socks. She tells a story about two pairs of socks. One pair she bought herself and one pair that were knitted for her by her grandmother.

With the bought pair of socks, she doesn’t think much of their story—their origins and their makers. She simply wears them and throws them in the laundry hamper. And when the socks inevitably get holes in their heels she might shrug and toss them away in the trashcan. Never thinking about them again.

But when it comes to the socks her grandmother made for her, she treats them very differently.  

She says,

“I’ll write [my grandmother a] thank you note. I will take good care of them, and if I am a very gracious grandchild, I’ll wear them when she visits even if I don’t like them. […]”

And when Kimmerer wears these socks, every step is a reminder of her grandmother. The socks are just one example of the love they have for one another has been made manifest.

The socks aren’t merely a practical gift but a physical reminder of their bond.

 In other words Gifts are not only wonderful surprises but they are also something that bind us to one another.

Through her examples of both strawberries and socks, Kimmerer invites us into two practices.

First, she invites us to open ourselves up to notice the gifts that are already around us. To be delighted by their mere existence. Just like a child who stumbles upon a field of deliciously ripe wild strawberries.

And Kimmerer invites us to recognize and tend to the relationships that those gifts create and strengthen.

To recognize and tend to the love and attention that goes into the gift giving process.

Now this wisdom around giving and receiving is something that our religious ancestors knew as well. Because we even see the beauty and relationship building quality of gift giving in our reading for today.

As the gospel of Mark tells us, like many other days in the ministry of Jesus, a crowd followed him as he taught. And as the sun began to set, the disciples encourage Jesus to send the crowd away so that they could go into town and buy something to eat. But Jesus refuses to send them away. And Instead, Jesus tells his disciples that they should feed the people.

At this point in the story I can just imagine the disciples’ faces. I’m sure there were quite a few raised eyebrows on their faces as they looked at Jesus incredulously. One of two of them might have even laughed thinking that Jesus was joking. Because how could they possibly feed thousands and thousands of people with only a few coins, five loaves of bread, and two fish.

 It was an impossible task.

 But when a sly wink or an impish grin never appears on his face, the apostles realize Jesus isn’t joking. Unfortunately for them, He’s completely serious.

It was probably at this point that the disciples’ laughter fades, their eyes widen, and anxiety starts creeping up in their bodies as they try to process what they’ve been tasked with.

But before the disciples completely slip into a frenzied panic, Jesus blesses and breaks the fives loaves of bread. He distributes them amongst the disciples so that they can feed others. And somehow, there was enough. And enough satisfied them all. As verse 42 says, “[A]ll ate and were filled.”

Through this miraculous gift Christ reminds folks of their connection to one another. As we heard earlier from the book Braiding Sweetgrass, giving gifts creates relationships. And As Jesus gifts the disciples with bread, he creates connections between himself and the disciples.

And as the disciples give to the folks gathered there, they too create bonds   with others.

From one neighbor to another the bread and fish are passed around. All are fed and relationships are kindled.

 And at the end of the meal, after all have had their fill, they sit and rest in a supportive web of generosity and loving-kindness.

The gospel story goes on to describe that at the end of this spontaneous picnic feast, there were twelve whole baskets full of broken pieces of bread.

This little detail in the story makes me wonder what happened to those baskets?                What happened to all those leftovers?

Maybe I’m being overly optimistic, but I have a feeling that after this experience of the miraculous feast, those who had been there wanted to share what they had seen—and maybe even what they had eaten--with others.

I like to imagine that as the crowd returned to their respective homes, their minds and hearts were full of gratitude and wonder at the mystery they had just experienced. So of course they told others about what happened. And they did so over pieces and bites of that leftover bread. Maybe even speaking with their mouths still full—too excited to stop sharing their story as they ate. And so, in turn, through those leftovers, more connections, more relationships were made and strengthened.

 

But I also wonder how this might apply to us too? Especially during Lent.

How can we bring this same eagerness to share and to give into our lives. Here. Now. How can we bring this dedication to relationships into our daily practice.

While it might not seem at all connected at first glance, I think that the wisdom around gifts and relationships fits really well with this Lent.

So often I hear narratives that suggest that lent is about suffering and guilt. That Lent is about examining every inch ourselves and punishing ourselves for the imperfections we will inevitably find.

But In a recent newsletter Rev Lindsey Turner touched on this understanding of lent and gave a helpful alternative. They wrote that Lent is actually about connection.

“Lent is about clearing out the things that are distracting us from connection.

Lent is about drawing near to the foundational source of our connection:    Love.

[Love] one of the many names of God. God is love.”

 

So Instead of counting calories

Instead of constant critique of ourselves and others

            Instead of shame and guilt and suffering,        

what if Lent were a time of creating, strengthening and healing relationships.

As Rev Lindsey goes on to write” Every time we heal any broken connection, it reverberates into other places of broken connection. We become better at repair. We become hungrier for connection, because we realize that's what life really is all about.”

Finally Rev Lindsey ends their reflection by inviting their readers to “Imagine coming out on the other side of Lent feeling more connected”

And so now I invite all of us to be curious about that too.

To be curious about what practices we could incorporate this Lenten season that can help us to do just that—to come out the other side feeling more connected.

Maybe we do what Jesus did and what Robin Kimmer’s grandmother did and practice gift giving.

Maybe like Jesus we bring a meal to friends and strangers.

Maybe we give a handmade gift to a relative

            Or maybe—depending on our cooking and crafting skills—we give the gift of time. Maybe we invite someone to coffee to get to know them better and hear their story.

Whatever that may look like for you I pray that we come out the other side of this Lenten journey feeling more connected. I pray that may we be open-eyed to the mystery and abundance that surrounds us. May be remember the ties that connect us to one another. And may we remember the source of it all. Amen

 

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Bread for Living: a sermon on John 6:51-58

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Meeting Christ at the Table of Compassion