(Homily for Gayton Road Christian Church's Worship on July 29, 2018, Proper 12)
Wild Flowers
I was five or six. My friend Christopher and I ran to the
edge of his backyard, which opened onto a small forest. We wandered into the forest and down to
the bank of the creek, where all sorts of wild flowers were growing. It was the month of May. Usually in the forest our imagination
ran wild. We would pretend to be
animals or explorers in the tropics.
Today, though, we were just ourselves, picking the flowers and leaves
that pleased us. Sometimes before
we picked them, we would sniff them first to make sure they met our
expectations. By the end of the
afternoon, we had a fragrant bag full of green and white and violet. Retreating through the forest and up
the backyard, onto Christopher’s deck where we had left two small glass vases,
we carefully arranged our forest treasures into the transparent vessels.
You see, Mother’s Day was only a
few days away. And we had each
seen before in our houses jars of potpourri. We had decided to make our own as Mother’s Day gifts.
I don’t know if our potpourri was
as aromatic as we thought. What I
do know is that my mom kept that vase on display in our living room for the
whole summer.
In the years to follow, I would
learn to ask myself whenever I gave a gift: “Is it enough?” Is the value of the gift appropriate to
the occasion? But that May when I
was five or six, I never thought to ask, “Is it enough?”
Visits
Several years ago in Sheffield,
England, I was walking back one afternoon from Morrison’s, the big supermarket
that carried the items that reminded me most of home and that I could not find
anywhere else—sourdough bread, corn tortillas, grapefruit juice, buttermilk
(which is a critical ingredient, of course, for biscuits). I had just turned onto my street, when
I heard a commotion across the road.
There was a man on the ground, his head bloodied and shaking, having an
apparent seizure. I froze at first
and then hurried across. A small
group had gathered around him. One
woman called the ambulance.
Another woman took off her coat and placed it under the man’s head. She kept her hand on his shoulder. In a gentle and steady voice, she
repeated, “It’s alright, it’s alright, we’re with you. We’re not going anywhere. You’re going to be alright.”
Later that afternoon, I pondered
the woman’s words of assurance.
How could she say that?
Could she be sure that the man would not die, that maybe things would
not be alright? Of course she
could not be sure. That’s not what
she was saying. She was saying
that whatever happened, the man would not be alone, that he would have
companions by his side to the very end.
Sometimes when from afar I
consider situations of great illness and difficulty, I ask: “Is it
enough?” Is that doctor’s advice
enough? Is that medicine or
treatment enough? But when I am
nearer to the circumstances, when I am myself visiting the person who is ill or
dying, the question never crosses my mind. I have never stopped to ponder the value of my visit. I have never thought to ask, “Is it
enough?”
The Miracle of Faith
I wonder if this is always
true—that when we are faithful to others,
we never stop to ask, “Is it enough?”
And yet the answer is still there all the same. It is
enough. When we are faithful to
others, it is always enough. That
is the miracle of faith.
In the springtime, when the kings
of old went out to be with their people on the front lines, King David did not
go out. He was not there for his
people. He was not faithful to
them.
When we’re not faithful, we’re
always asking the question, “Is it enough?” And the answer is always the same. It is never enough.
When David saw Bathsheba, the answer came to him quickly. What he had was not enough. He needed to have her too.
When the disciples saw the large
crowd of people, and the five loaves and two fishes, they also asked, “Is it
enough?” And although they were
not as selfish as David, neither were they faithful to the hungry hearts of the
crowd. They weren’t there for the
people. And so, of course, five
fishes and two loaves were not enough.
But Jesus was there for the
people. He heard their cry and had
compassion. And somehow five
loaves and two fishes was
enough. When we are faithful to
others, it is always enough. That
is the miracle of faith.
I would imagine there are times
when Rhonda and her crew do not have “enough” for the folks they are
visiting. And yet—they are still
visiting. They don’t stop to count
or calculate the value of their visit and ask, “Is it enough?” They are simply faithful to the folks
they have befriended. And I bet
that even when supplies are less than satisfactory, for every person they see,
somehow, for that one day, for that one night, their visit is enough. Because when we are faithful to others,
it is always enough. That is the
miracle of faith.
Prayer
Faithful Christ,
Who comes to us all,
No matter our merit,
Bringing not solutions
But solidarity—
Your love is enough,
Thank God.
May your steadfast love
Inspire in us
A similar faithfulness
Toward others to whom we are called,
Especially the needful;
So that we might not ask,
“Is it enough?”
But instead simply offer ourselves
And all we that we have,
Trusting in your miracle. Amen.
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