When I was kid, I only liked a few genres of film. One of those that didn’t belong to that select group was westerns. I just didn’t get them. A lot of black and white and the effects looked kinda cheezy.(Yes, even in the 70′s, older effects looked cheezy. Did I say 70′s? I mean the 80′s. Yeah, the 80′s. That’s the ticket.)

But my dad and grandfather kept showing them to me with the thought that one day I would eventually appreciate them and would want to watch them because I actually liked them. My dad tried the same thing with golf. It never worked with golf but it worked with westerns. If I remember right, the first one that really impacted me was a John Wayne movie from 1956. It was called The Searchers. It’s about a man who’s niece has been kidnapped by an Indian tribe and his search to find her. I think was struck me the most, and still sticks with me now, is the timeline of the movie. I was used to movies where all the action happened over a few hours or maybe a day or two but The Searchers takes place over years and years. JW never stops looking for this girl. All the time we are told that he is doing this for honor and maybe some other not so pleasant reasons of his own. And when the time comes that she is finally found, we see that deep down within The Searcher, what drove him, wasn’t honor or duty or hatred of his enemy. When he grabs her in his arms and hugs her, we see that he searched all those years for one reason and one reason alone…

Love.

We have seen in the recent past how God views our worry and how that relates to our worth.

We have seen how God views the idea of family in his kingdom.

We have seen what God thinks the role of his church should be in meeting the needs of the community around it.

And in Luke 15, we have continuation of Christ’s great and powerful view of how the Fulfilled Kingdom of God and this world mix.

Here we have a God who values that which is lost. Over rocky crags, in the depths of caves, through dangerous valleys. No quit until what was lost has been found- such is the love of our God for his creation- all of it. And what has not created by God? And once found, retracing the treacherous terrain with a sheep over his shoulders, carrying it all the back to the flock.

This is not some Deist God or God looking down from heaven or God simply watching over us like that terrible song. This is not that God. This is an active God. A determined God. A God with a purpose.

Jesus came “to seek and save that which was lost.”

I wonder how often we think of God being tenacious.

The story doesn’t tell us how long the searcher looked for the coin or the sheep? What must have gone through the mind of the other sheep while the shepherd was off after that one troublesome sheep? What was so special or different anyway about that sheep? Did it even deserve to be looked for? Wouldn’t it just run off or get lost again? Maybe one or two of the “good” sheep even began to ask if God was such a good shepherd, why the sheep got lost in the first place.

And something like that always makes me question when, in my life, I have been the lost sheep, the lost coin. When have I been one of the 99? Did I wonder those things about that stray? Did I wonder those things about my God?

And when the Shepherd returns from the journey, from the rescue mission– Rejoicing.

No separating the sheep in another special pen. No placing the coin in a high-security double-locked safe. Both folded back in with the others. And there was rejoicing for it.

When the community of God can come to a place that welcomes in the one who was lost with pure and adulterated joy. What a thing.

And what an insight into the will of God- that none should perish but that all should be saved.

Scripture says the devil roams to and fro seeking whom he may devour. Somebody here, somebody there. Here is, for all to see, an un-content God; an active God; a searching God. A God who isn’t just hoping to stumble upon a sheep here or a coin there.

A God balancing our free will against his finding the demise of even one of us unacceptable.

That’s a dichotomy I’m still trying to work out.

And if our Father is a never-ending searcher, shouldn’t we be also? If Christ was constantly trying to show us the way the Kingdom is, and therefore, how the Father is, can we accept ourselves as anything different?

How do we continue to look past our worries and fears?

How do we strive to look farther and farther until we can see the Kingdom of God like Christ saw it?

How do we search?

There is an old phrase that still gets used today. “You mailed it in.” It’s supposed to denote that a person has taken the easy path when attempting something. The person couldn’t be bothered to show up in person, I guess, so they just mailed in whatever it was they were supposed to do.
We need to stop using that phrase. It doesn’t work in our lives today. Maybe it should be changed to “You emailed it in.” or even “You texted it in.” Those are modes of communication that require much less effort than mailing something. Mailing something is involved. You have to actually write out what you are going to say. You have to find an envelope, address it and then ransack every drawer in the house until you finally find a stamp (hopefully one that is the correct postage.) Then you have to not leave it sitting on your kitchen table until days go by and you eventually remember to stick it in the mailbox, where it will then take any number of days to get to its destination, if it ever does, and you won’t know if it’s there or not until you hear from the other person, which could be days or weeks.
So maybe “mailing it in” should never have been compared to something easy or slothful. It takes intent. It takes effort. It means something.

And into this, we hear a story about God doing some mailing of his own. God sending out invitations to a banquet, a dinner, a party. God put forth effort. God showed intent. For God, these invitations mean something. These are invitations to the Kingdom of God.
After all, this parable is Jesus’ response to someone’s statement about the Kingdom.

And as with all invitations, these can be accepted, rejected, even ignored.
For good or for ill, we find that we have the free will choice to respond to the invitation in whatever manner we wish.

This banquet didn’t just sneak up on those invited. They dinner had been planned and those invited had received their notice well ahead of time. Maybe they had all the intentions in the world to go. Maybe when they first heard the news they were even excited by it. But, it seems, that life, as it often does, became… busy for those people. Things happen, life moves on, priorities shift. We lose focus.

One of the guests had to make sure his property was in good order. Another had to make sure that the things entrusted to him were taken care of. Another had just bound his life to another person.

Are the guests’ reasons for not attending all that unreasonable? Doesn’t really seem like it. I mean, aren’t we to be good stewards? Aren’t we to honor our spouse and submit ourselves one to another, especially in the case of Holy Matrimony?

And yet…

We talked a few weeks about worry and how what we worry about is usually the things that define our worth. These things defined the worth of the guests. At least in their eyes.
There’s nothing inherently wrong with marriage or being a good steward. In fact, those are wonderful things but not when they are things that give our life meaning. And not when we think those things can be taken care of today and we will worry about how the Kingdom of God looks at some other time in the future. Not when we try to separate and compartmentalize our life here and life there.

Again, Luke trying to show us Christ joining together the now with the Eschaton. Because for people with a place at the table, eternal salvation is great but it sure does seem like the priorities of this life and where we find our value in this life matters a great deal.

So who is in and who is out?

Before this parable, Christ tells us of another dinner. And it’s here that we can find a model for the Church.
We can not only respond to our invitations but also send out invitations of our own. We can be ministers of reconciliation to the (physically) poor, the (emotionally) crippled, the (spiritually) blind; those too wrecked with guilt and shame to even begin to know how to walk the path with God.

Once again, we see that the concept of our community is important.

Our invitations, our banquet should match that of God’s. We should be evaluating our notions of who is in and who is out.

We have seen the disciples lose sight of the fulfilled Kingdom of God. We see it in the invited dinner guests. And we see that Christ takes this very seriously.

I’ve never had a green thumb. I don’t tend to keep plants around because I just can’t keep them alive.
I’ve never really been all that good with pets either. They’re fine but they’re just not really my idea of fun.
And I hate bugs. Especially flying bugs. When I was a kid I was stung right next to my eye. Twice.
So I don’t tend to pay those kinds of these too much mind and when I do it’s usually with disdain.

God pays attention to all those things. It’s his creation and he not only cares about those things, he loves them.

God plants them, waters them, grows them, prunes them and on and on.

This is the motif of Christ in Luke as he is teaching us about worry.
Christ is telling us something about who we are.
Christ is telling us not to worry. But why?

What about when there is a real lack of food, clothing, shelter, good health?
Aren’t we supposed to be concerned? Aren’t we supposed to worry.
Aren’t we supposed to be the disciples on the boat who saw the reality of the situation that told them they were about to capsize and drown in a very real sea?

Maybe this passage is less about anti-worry than it is about pro-sufficientness. (Yes, I know that’s not a word.)

Can worry and trust exist at the same time?

Luke has been running us through a new way to look at the world. He has been asking us to imagine the Kingdom of God the way Christ saw it.

And here we see something about what we are worth in that Kingdom. This passage is asking us to judge how we define our worth.
Is our sense of worth determined by how much we worry about our food, clothes, health?
How often do we look to food, possessions, savings accounts, IRAs, Social Security, military strength, kids for security and peace?

Christ tells us that security and peace come from God, only and alone. It is not found in those things no matter how much we tell ourselves otherwise.

Right before these verses, Christ tells us the parable of the “Rich Fool”. The fool’s abundance was overflowing so he wanted to build new storehouses to put it all in. What was so foolish about trying to be prepared for the future? What was different in his thinking that led Jesus to call him foolish? Where was the fool’s trust?

So we come back to this passage. Can our trust truly be split between some of the things of the world and some of the things of the Kingdom? Can’t we really serve two masters if it makes sense and we have a good plan for it?

What maybe gets us most about taking this kind of passage seriously is that it all seems so daunting. Especially in the culture we come from where we are taught that we are only worth what we can make of ourselves, on our own.
These are worrisome statements by Jesus.
But we were never meant to do all this alone. We are called to be the Church, not just an eye or a finger but the whole entire body of Christ.

And it’s when we start to see the church in the light of the fulfilled Kingdom of God that we can take seriously Christ telling us to sell our possessions and give to the poor.
We can be people who say, “Yes” instead of “Well, I only have a little bit of fish and bread.”

This is not a neglecting of self but just the opposite, a realization of self-worth in God. When we recognize that in ourselves, we are free to see it in others.

Luke 21 tells us the story of the woman who gave her last two cents.
Acts 5 tells us of Annanias and Saphira who tried to serve both God and themselves.

The woman knew where her worth came from and therefore where her security lay. She could give out of her poverty.
A & S couldn’t see that far. They could only see that they may not have enough. They were afraid.

We worry out of fear. Is there fear in the Kingdom of God?

When Christ looked forward to the fulfilled Kingdom, did he see fear, consumerism, greed, the need to possess more and more and more? How about insecurity?

Or did he see a Kingdom where God provided what was needed?
Did he see a love that drove out fear?

Right after these verses, Christ talks to us about readiness. This reliance on God in total is our act of readiness, our being alert. We are ready for the fulfilled Kingdom of God. We have been on alert to make our lives and the Church look as much like what Christ saw when he look ahead as we can.

We worry because we only see the things that we can see instead of seeing through Christ the things we cannot.
Do we go homeless and starve to death and rot away from disease due to this passage? Probably. If we go at this alone.
The body must work together and when it does, it is an amazing sight to behold.

Jesus tries to show us a different way of viewing a world we are in but are not of.
In this world, we love our enemies because our Father is merciful to them.
We try to recognize truth in places we might not normally look because we might see right past examples of great faith.
We expand our view of who our brothers and sisters and mothers and fathers are to include those who hear God’s words and put them into practice.

Christ trying to demonstrate his eschatology. Showing us how he sees the Kingdom of God and how that shapes everything he believes in and does.

When I was getting my undergrad degree at ETBU, I had only 2 classes left to take my last semester and they were both political sciences classes taught by the same prof. The good and bad of it was that he actually expected us to think. The nerve. He actually wanted us to take in information and formulate our opinions of what was happening. See, I had spent 8 years (or so) of high school and college being taught to take in what teachers told me and simply regurgitate them back onto the test page. It got drilled into me to see it that way. So those last 2 classes were quite an experience. Freeing but painful.

It’s kinda the same with the story of the feeding of the 5000. It’s hard to even attempt to view it in a new way after hearing it taught one way so many times for so long.

But as Luke continues to lay out his Gospel, I feel that I am supposed to see deeper.

Not that all our old thoughts on the story need to be thrown out.
-We see Christ’s responsiveness to people’s need, both physical and spiritual.

That should never be something the body of Christ overlooks. A person’s condition in life, the condition of their soul and the condition of their physical well-being, are both important to Jesus.
It is not enough to pray for a person’s redemption and not walk beside them.
It is not enough to alleviate suffering and not point them towards the truth of God.

God using Ezekiel to speak to the bones.
Used the disciples here.

But what’s deeper--
The progression— The disciples see the hungry people–> The disciples tell Christ–> Christ tells them to give them food–> The disciples say “What?”–> Christ takes all the have–> Christ blesses it–> Christ gives it back–> 5000 are fed

The disciples start off well by seeing the need.

Their next response is rational. It’s logical. It makes sense.

Just before this, we see the sending out of the 12 with power. Healing the sick, raising the dead, sharing the truth of the Kingdom of God.
Sent out with no bags, no money, not even an extra tunic. Relying solely on the power of God and his people.

I imagine they were excited to tell Christ about the journey, which seemed to be pretty successful.
But then the crowds come and Christ turns to them.

I guess the disciples tolerated that fairly well. After all, Christ does this a lot. They will have their turn soon. Surely Christ would want to hear the triumphs of the trip, about all the good they did. They were the chosen followers of the Great Rabbi after all.

So the daylight dims and it’s time to wrap it up, the disciples tell Christ to send the people away.
The triumphant students weren’t lowly food servants. Especially not after traveling back all day and being so tired and worn out. Try to picture how much work it would be to feed 5000 men, 12000-15000 people.
Send them away.

When Christ told them to feed the crowd, I don’t think it’s a far stretch to see all of the disciples magnificent faith swallowed up in frustration, hunger, self-pity (Jesus had more and more care for strangers than for them.)

Yet again, Christ has to show them what it means to see out there instead of right here.

The progression is important. It’s how God works today.
We see inadequacy. We see not good enough. We see not enough.

And we are right. It’s inadequate. Our strength, our power, our love, our mercy…
That is why we turn it over to God. Even our “good” things. We give up our very lives, because they are not good enough.

And after giving our lives to God, God blesses them and gives back to us exactly what it is that we need.
Perfected. Adequate. Enough. Just like that bread and fish.

Why? Not for privilege but for purpose. To meet the needs of the people and to point them to the one who blessed us.

The disciples had a hard time seeing the world differently than they had been taught to see it.
They tried to apply their rationalization to it, their logic, their view.

So no wonder they didn’t think it was their job to feed all those people. A little fish and bread ≠ 15000 people.
They believed that they wouldn’t have enough resources or that maybe that they just wouldn’t be good enough at it.

Send them away to their homes, to the inns, to the agencies that Rome has set up to provide for these people.
I mean, that makes sense, right?

And yet, Christ seemed to have none of that.
Christ seems to believe that it is our job to provide for the spiritual and physical needs of people. It seems that the only eternal organism on earth, the body of Christ, the church, has a mandate to do this.

But we don’t have the resources. We don’t have the means. We are not good enough at meet needs. And hey, there are homes and inns and agencies that can take care of people. After all, we only have a little fish and bread. As far as I can see, that isn’t sufficient.

As far as I can see…

Esau sold his birthright to Jacob for a bowl of soup.

For centuries, the church has been selling its mandate for much less.

To the point that it doesn’t even seem possible to do otherwise.
It certainly isn’t rational. Or logical to think any other way.

And yet…

It’s hard for me to think differently than I always have.
But I’m having a hard time of finding ways to justify to myself that I can continue to view the world the same way I always have.

How does my view change when I stop listening to those who tell me this is how it is and start listening to X telling me how he views the Kingdom of God?