Rev. Eugene N. Nelson, Jr.
The Community Church of Sebastopol
August 5, 2007
Mark 6:30-44
I have a friend who, not long ago, went into the franchise business. He is now the operator of a UPS mail store. Now I just happened to be reading my dictionary the other day and came across this definition of franchise: "The right or license granted to an individual or group to market a company's goods or services in a particular territory." And that is just what he is doing. He now is the UPS store in his part of the world south of Fresno. I don't know all the details of his negotiations with UPS, but I know it wasn't easy getting this store. They don't want just anybody marketing their goods and services. They do have a name and a reputation to protect. I know that he had to demonstrate that he had enough reserve cash to operate the store for at least two years without making any significant profit. Sometimes it can take that long really to build the business. In return he benefits from the UPS name recognition and network of corporate support services. The goal, of course, is a win - win. He makes money and grows; UPS makes money and grows.
Which brings me, quite naturally, to Jesus and his disciples on that hillside with thousands of hungry and tired people. Obviously, all they have to do is call UPS and have some baskets of bread and fish delivered. Today, in thinking with you about this familiar text, I don't want to focus on the multiplication of the loaves and fish. (Although I can think of so many trips when I could have used a little multiplication, at least of the fish!) Rather, I want to take a closer look at what is going on between Jesus and the disciples. I want to argue that he is offering franchises in the Kingdom of God, but it is an offer which is not met with a great deal of enthusiasm. I suppose he can't quite match UPS when it comes to profit margin. As you work your way through this text, you begin to see that Jesus makes it clear that when it comes to the work of the Kingdom - the reign of God - he is not going to do it by himself. His followers are going to help, they are going to have a piece of the action, a franchise in the Kingdom, whether they like it or not. Let's return to the text. You might want to open a Bible and follow along. (Now there's something you don't often hear around here!)
It is late, it's been a long day. So they say to Jesus: "This is a deserted place and the hour is very late. Send them away, so that they can go into the surrounding countryside and villages and buy something for themselves to eat."
But he says to them, "You give them something to eat.”
You can almost hear their laughter: Us? Are you serious? "Are we to go and buy two hundred denarii worth of bread, and give it to them to eat? Hey, that's not in the job description."
But then he asks them, "How many loaves have you?"
They go and find out: "Five loaves and two fish."
Then he ordered them to get all the people in groups on the green grass – green grass – an interesting detail when one considers this is taking place on an arid mountain side. Green grass? Where have we heard that before? "He makes me lie down in green pastures..." Interesting.
He then takes the five loaves and two fish, looks up to heaven, and blesses and breaks the bread. Powerful Eucharistic overtones. But then he gives the bread and fish to them – the disciples – and they serve the people. "And all ate and were filled...And they took up twelve baskets..."
He and They. Do you see how Jesus insists on pulling the disciples in, seemingly in spite of themselves? They will be a part of this kingdom, they will take responsibility for it, even if they have to come in kicking and screaming all the way. I suppose you could say that Jesus getting them to go along with this, remember how they wanted to send everyone home, may be a greater miracle than the actual multiplication of loaves and fishes.
I am reminded of these words from the great theologian, Dave Barry: "We went west for our summer vacation. Our idea was to follow in the footsteps of the hardy explorers, Lewis and Clark, who traveled eight thousand miles through hostile, uncharted wilderness, a feat that was possible only because of their great courage and the fact that they left their children home. Otherwise they would have quit after maybe two hundred yards."
I wonder if that is how Jesus sometimes felt about his closest followers. "I would get a lot more done, travel a lot farther, if I would have left them at home." They often seem like whiny children. "Do we really have to feed all these people? There isn't enough. It's too hard." Sometimes, I confess, I take a measure of delight in the fact that the people who were with Jesus every day, literally following in his footsteps, often had just as much trouble following him as I do. But he doesn't give up on them. He insists on making them part of this ministry, this kingdom franchise. It isn't going to be just about him. It isn't going to depend just on him. Such ordinary, flawed, everyday people called by Christ to share with him an extraordinary adventure, to be part of his franchise. Funny how some things never change.
The great theologian, Paul Tillich, once said, “The saint is a saint not because he is good, but because he is transparent for something that is more than himself. Being a window of opportunity, being a means of grace, being the place in which the Holy Spirit makes its dwelling, is the vocation of ordinary people." And no where is this truer than in the biblical word. Look what we find. Shepherds summoned to the manger, women summoned to the tomb on that first Easter morning, fisherman and the most common of folk summoned into the vanguard of Jesus’ ministry, so that through them, and through us, Christ might be seen and known. "You give them something to eat. You make sure all have enough. You witness to my promise of abundance." And again, what was true then and there is still true here and now.
Do you even think of yourself that way...as a means of grace for the Lord, as a place where the Holy Spirit chooses to dwell, as window through which the Holy becomes transparent in our daily world? That's quite a job description. And it's fine for a Mother Teresa or Desmund Tutu or Martin Luther King, Jr., but I’m not sure it applies to me. That isn't me.
United Methodist Bishop, William Willimon, shares this story from his days as a parish pastor: "One morning during my sermon, I read an account out of a Brazilian newspaper about how the poor people of Brazil are now selling organs from their bodies to the rich. The story quoted a man named Walter who had recently sold his eyes to a wealthy person for a corneal transplant. Walter, who has never had a job, was quoted as saying. 'At last I can see my family to a better life.' I just read the story, that's all.
"The next morning, when I arrived at my office, the phone was ringing. It was Debbie. Debbie was our resident congregational activist. She lived with her teacher husband in a small house near the church.
'I haven't slept all night,' Debbie said.
"'Why?' I asked.
"'Because of Walter. I can't get him out of my mind. I got David up at five o'clock this morning. We talked. We prayed. We were going to get a new car. We can live without a new car. We were going to buy a new stereo. We don't need it. We are going to double our giving to the church if you can promise me that the money will go to help people like Walter.'"
Says Willimon, "I thought to myself, 'I slept like a baby last night.'"
"You gather the people together, you give them something to eat, you make sure there is enough and all are fed and cared for. You are no longer ordinary people, you are my people. And I have work for you to do." It is the offer of an opportunity to give our lives to something larger than ourselves; to make a witness where we are, in any way we can, that the reign of God, through us, might take a leap forward. It is an offer to take us places we would not have gone if left to our own devices. It is the offer, not so much of a living, but of a life!