Our Weird Wants
Eighth Sunday After Pentecost
July 30, 2006
Charles Barkley wants to be governor. He says he may run in the year 2010. I’d call that crazy, but then Arnold Schwarzenegger wanted to be governor of California and Jesse Ventura wanted to be governor of Minnesota. Weirder things have happened, I suppose.
Weirder things like — well, like me becoming an ordained clergyman. Twenty years ago I would never have imagined my being an Episcopalian, much less a deacon in the church. Today, can’t imagine wanting to be anything else.
It’s hard to know what is going to happen in this life. It’s hard to know what we want in this life. Hard in the present, almost impossible for the future. We make decisions that seemed like a good idea at the time. Remember that hairdo? Ladies, you know the one I’m talking about. And gentlemen – two words: leisure suits. They all seemed good ideas at the time. But now? Well, we hope that today’s decisions will wear better, though no matter how long we live we’re to bound to occasionally want things that turn out to be not such good ideas.
Who do we want as our leader today, and will that choice prove to have been a good idea? Who will we want in 2010?
Who do we want? What do we want?
In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus pretty much just wanted to be left alone. Last week, we talked about how Jesus often needed to go off by himself to pray. And how he encouraged his disciples to do the same. Today, we hear, Jesus “withdrew again to the mountain by himself.” But again, the crowds pressed in on Jesus, chased him, and he was left with no other choice but to deal with them and heal them, no matter how tired his human body had become. Jesus wanted what was right—a chance to replenish himself, a quiet sabbath in which to recharge.
What did the disciples want? Among other things, they wanted someone to do their thinking for them, to get them out of a jam. The crowds pressed in and were hungry. Five thousand of them had chased Jesus up the mountain and were stuck out in the middle of nowhere, apparently with nothing to eat. So the disciples turned to Jesus and said, in effect, “Oh Lord, we are weak and you are strong. Save us all.”
And what did the people want? Obviously, they wanted to eat—but strangely enough, the Gospel doesn’t record any of the people asking for food. You would think that if they were headed for a celebration, they would have brought food along with them. I don’t know. But I do know this: whether they asked for it or not, Jesus fed them all, the five thousand, with a miracle. And what they said in response is the good news and the bad news of this story.
The good news is this: the people were looking for a messiah and they found one. They always had been taught that there would be a deliverer, a son of God, an anointed one. They knew that some day—maybe, just maybe in their own lifetimes—that a messiah would come. And by this sign, the feeding of the five thousand, they recognized that this messiah was Jesus. Jesus, the Son of God.
We know that they believed this because they said the right thing. They said, “This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world.” In Hebrew, they called him the messiah. Those who spoke Greek said, ho christos—the Christ. In any language, he was the prophet foretold of old, the one who would come and deliver.
Now here is the bad news. The people jumped right past the messiah business and got onto the business of picking a leader. They made a bad decision. Instead of falling on their knees and confessing Jesus to be their savior, they got all excited and decided they’d make him their king. Not a heavenly king, but a real flesh-and-blood political leader right here on earth.
Jesus knew this would happen. He knew this would happen even before the miracle. We are told that when he asked Philip where to buy food, “he himself knew what he was going to do.” And I have no doubt that he knew how the people would react. History tells us that the Jews of this time had the habit of seizing on charismatic preachers and proclaiming them king.
Jesus had seen this, and he knew in his heart what they would draw from this lesson. He would later teach his disciples about the meaning of the bread, but the great mass of people would draw the wrong conclusion. “When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.”
I can’t blame the people. I can’t blame the Jews who wanted a king who would feed them. We want a leader who can promise a chicken in every pot, and we’ll often make political decisions we later regret out of this very temptation, this very human desire. There is war in the Middle East today – rockets and warplanes over Lebanon – not so much for food, but rather for safety. I don’t know who’s right and who’s wrong, and please don’t ask me about Iraq. But I do know that the desire for safety and security and prosperity can lead us to terrible decisions. Decisions that seemed like a good idea at the time.
So the people wanted to make Jesus a king. Later, Pontius Pilate would throw this in Jesus’ face: “Are you the King of the Jews?…So you are a king?” [John 18:33, 37] To which Jesus would simply say, “You say that I am a king.”
Pilate was trying to trap Jesus, but he too was caught up in the old ideas of kingship. There was the Roman idea of earthly kings who became worshiped as gods. And there was the Jewish idea of earthly kings whose reigns reflected the will of the heavenly God. And in the case of Jesus, all these ideas were wrong.
Jesus would tell Pilate, “My kingdom is not from this world.” [John 18:36]
Jesus was indeed a king, and in those words said as much. But the people misunderstood the kingdom. In the same way that we so often misunderstand the kingdom. The Kingdom of God cannot be found in any earthly organization—whether it’s an elected, Christian government or unelected Islamic regime. It can’t be found in a region or local way of life. Or even in the hierarchy of an earthly church.
But that’s where we tend to look for the Kingdom of God. In something we can touch and feel. But Jesus said, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. [John 3:5]
In October, the Bishop of Alabama will make his visitation on the Feast of St. Luke. That is the day we set aside for baptisms and confirmations, the sacraments that symbolize the grace of God working in the lives of those who accept the Kingship of Christ. We all will reaffirm our baptismal promises. We will promise to persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever we fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord. We will promise to proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ, to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbors as ourselves.
And we will promise to strive for justice and peace among all people, respecting the dignity of every human being.
In those promises lies our contact with the Kingdom of God. We will want many things in this life, and will make many poor decisions. This is the one choice we can make that others have failed to make before—the five thousand, Pontius Pilate, and countless others. The choice to recognize Jesus as King and, fulfilling our baptismal promises, to renew our claim on a place in the Kingdom of God.
Amen.
July 30, 2006
Charles Barkley wants to be governor. He says he may run in the year 2010. I’d call that crazy, but then Arnold Schwarzenegger wanted to be governor of California and Jesse Ventura wanted to be governor of Minnesota. Weirder things have happened, I suppose.
Weirder things like — well, like me becoming an ordained clergyman. Twenty years ago I would never have imagined my being an Episcopalian, much less a deacon in the church. Today, can’t imagine wanting to be anything else.
It’s hard to know what is going to happen in this life. It’s hard to know what we want in this life. Hard in the present, almost impossible for the future. We make decisions that seemed like a good idea at the time. Remember that hairdo? Ladies, you know the one I’m talking about. And gentlemen – two words: leisure suits. They all seemed good ideas at the time. But now? Well, we hope that today’s decisions will wear better, though no matter how long we live we’re to bound to occasionally want things that turn out to be not such good ideas.
Who do we want as our leader today, and will that choice prove to have been a good idea? Who will we want in 2010?
Who do we want? What do we want?
In today’s Gospel reading, Jesus pretty much just wanted to be left alone. Last week, we talked about how Jesus often needed to go off by himself to pray. And how he encouraged his disciples to do the same. Today, we hear, Jesus “withdrew again to the mountain by himself.” But again, the crowds pressed in on Jesus, chased him, and he was left with no other choice but to deal with them and heal them, no matter how tired his human body had become. Jesus wanted what was right—a chance to replenish himself, a quiet sabbath in which to recharge.
What did the disciples want? Among other things, they wanted someone to do their thinking for them, to get them out of a jam. The crowds pressed in and were hungry. Five thousand of them had chased Jesus up the mountain and were stuck out in the middle of nowhere, apparently with nothing to eat. So the disciples turned to Jesus and said, in effect, “Oh Lord, we are weak and you are strong. Save us all.”
And what did the people want? Obviously, they wanted to eat—but strangely enough, the Gospel doesn’t record any of the people asking for food. You would think that if they were headed for a celebration, they would have brought food along with them. I don’t know. But I do know this: whether they asked for it or not, Jesus fed them all, the five thousand, with a miracle. And what they said in response is the good news and the bad news of this story.
The good news is this: the people were looking for a messiah and they found one. They always had been taught that there would be a deliverer, a son of God, an anointed one. They knew that some day—maybe, just maybe in their own lifetimes—that a messiah would come. And by this sign, the feeding of the five thousand, they recognized that this messiah was Jesus. Jesus, the Son of God.
We know that they believed this because they said the right thing. They said, “This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world.” In Hebrew, they called him the messiah. Those who spoke Greek said, ho christos—the Christ. In any language, he was the prophet foretold of old, the one who would come and deliver.
Now here is the bad news. The people jumped right past the messiah business and got onto the business of picking a leader. They made a bad decision. Instead of falling on their knees and confessing Jesus to be their savior, they got all excited and decided they’d make him their king. Not a heavenly king, but a real flesh-and-blood political leader right here on earth.
Jesus knew this would happen. He knew this would happen even before the miracle. We are told that when he asked Philip where to buy food, “he himself knew what he was going to do.” And I have no doubt that he knew how the people would react. History tells us that the Jews of this time had the habit of seizing on charismatic preachers and proclaiming them king.
Jesus had seen this, and he knew in his heart what they would draw from this lesson. He would later teach his disciples about the meaning of the bread, but the great mass of people would draw the wrong conclusion. “When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.”
I can’t blame the people. I can’t blame the Jews who wanted a king who would feed them. We want a leader who can promise a chicken in every pot, and we’ll often make political decisions we later regret out of this very temptation, this very human desire. There is war in the Middle East today – rockets and warplanes over Lebanon – not so much for food, but rather for safety. I don’t know who’s right and who’s wrong, and please don’t ask me about Iraq. But I do know that the desire for safety and security and prosperity can lead us to terrible decisions. Decisions that seemed like a good idea at the time.
So the people wanted to make Jesus a king. Later, Pontius Pilate would throw this in Jesus’ face: “Are you the King of the Jews?…So you are a king?” [John 18:33, 37] To which Jesus would simply say, “You say that I am a king.”
Pilate was trying to trap Jesus, but he too was caught up in the old ideas of kingship. There was the Roman idea of earthly kings who became worshiped as gods. And there was the Jewish idea of earthly kings whose reigns reflected the will of the heavenly God. And in the case of Jesus, all these ideas were wrong.
Jesus would tell Pilate, “My kingdom is not from this world.” [John 18:36]
Jesus was indeed a king, and in those words said as much. But the people misunderstood the kingdom. In the same way that we so often misunderstand the kingdom. The Kingdom of God cannot be found in any earthly organization—whether it’s an elected, Christian government or unelected Islamic regime. It can’t be found in a region or local way of life. Or even in the hierarchy of an earthly church.
But that’s where we tend to look for the Kingdom of God. In something we can touch and feel. But Jesus said, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. [John 3:5]
In October, the Bishop of Alabama will make his visitation on the Feast of St. Luke. That is the day we set aside for baptisms and confirmations, the sacraments that symbolize the grace of God working in the lives of those who accept the Kingship of Christ. We all will reaffirm our baptismal promises. We will promise to persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever we fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord. We will promise to proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ, to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbors as ourselves.
And we will promise to strive for justice and peace among all people, respecting the dignity of every human being.
In those promises lies our contact with the Kingdom of God. We will want many things in this life, and will make many poor decisions. This is the one choice we can make that others have failed to make before—the five thousand, Pontius Pilate, and countless others. The choice to recognize Jesus as King and, fulfilling our baptismal promises, to renew our claim on a place in the Kingdom of God.
Amen.
posted by Michael+ at 9:15 PM
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