The Good News Proclaimed
Preached by the Reverend Doctor Durrell Watkins at the
Sunshine Cathedral on Sunday, August 23, 2009.
We’ve been hearing a lot about bread for about five weeks already.
-
July 26 — Jesus feeds a multitude with five loaves and two fish (Mk.
6.35-43).
- Aug 2 — Jesus calls himself the bread of life (Jn. 6.33-35).
- Aug 9 — Jesus is still calling himself living bread (Jn. 6.48-51).
-
Aug 16 — Lady Wisdom says, “Eat my bread and drink my wine” (Prov. 9.1,
5-6).
-
Aug 23 — Jesus shares bread and wine with a group at table (Mk.
14.22-23, 25-26).
I’ve spent eight months trying to lose weight. January through April were
typical… I’d go to the gym, and then I wouldn’t. I’d swear off beer and
desserts, and then I’d swear off swearing off beer and desserts. I’d try
portion control, and then I’d forget to try portion control. I’d drink
Slim-fast, which I found to be especially delicious and filling when I would
add ice cream and Bailey’s to it. I’d lose five or six pounds, plateau, gain
them back, lose them again, and so on.
But then in May I got serious, and more importantly, I got someone to share
my seriousness, and we have been working out obsessively ever since. About two
months ago I went to the doctor, mounted the scales only to discover that I
hadn’t lost an ounce! I was furious. I complained to my doctor that she must
be doing something wrong, because I’ve been elypticizing myself into a stupor.
She gave me the old tired “muscle weighs more than fat” routine and she
assured me that I did in fact look a little smaller. She assured me my blood
pressure and cholesterol were perfect. Great. Not once has anyone ever said to
me, “Hey, you’re looking less hypertensive these days.” Still, I had noticed
that my clothes were fitting more loosely, regardless of what that satanic
scale said.
Then one day, one magical, miraculous, amazing day when unicorns and
fairies and butterflies frolicked from village to dell singing and playing and
spreading sunshine, I went to buy new clothes for a trip I was taking and had
to buy pants two inches smaller in the waist. It was a glorious moment in
time.
Then, I started adding Wii aerobics to my fitness routine. Well, evil Wii
weighs you so it can monitor your progress. So, I braced myself for the
hateful Wii news, only be told by the sweetest most melodic computerized voice
ever that I had lost weight… a significant amount of weight. God bless you
anonymous Wii woman!
Then last night, I noticed a shirt in the back of the closet. I took it out
thinking I might wear it to the organ concert. But then I figured out why it
was in the back of the closet… the neck was an inch and half smaller than the
size I’ve been wearing for about 3 years. Sigh. But then I said to myself,
“Self… you’ve lost some weight… maybe you could squeeze into it and even if
its uncomfortable you could survive one night.” PS — it fit! It fit perfectly.
It wasn’t the least bit snug. I was almost late for the concert because of the
out of body experience I was having… out of a much less corpulent body
experience that is.
Some people start a diet and lose 10, 15 pounds in a couple of weeks. I
think its OK to hate such people. Others do a few pushups and in a month are
ready to start a modeling career. These people, also, should have plagues of
frogs and locusts visited upon them. But nevertheless, after eight torturous
months, some of them not affording me a single pound of reduction, finally I
can say I have lost two inches in the waist, an inch and half in the neck, and
17 pounds total. That’s a little more than half my goal… I hope it doesn’t
take another eight months for the other half, but even if it does, I’m hopeful
that I can do it.
So with this long, slow, and finally somewhat successful struggle, do I
need to read and hear and preach about bread and wine and fish week after week
after week? Whose idea of a sick joke is this? I leave church and all I can
think about is buttery, flakey, delicious pastry and bread delicacies.
Whatever happened to lead us not into temptation?
But then, from the late first century, someone says to me: Be strong in the
Lord and in the strength of divine power. Pray at all times, and keep alert
and keep praying not only for yourself but for everyone else.
And somehow, that’s the real point. Not whether or not I’m motivated to get
to the gym. Not how badly my ego is bruised or how dangerously my health is
threatened by weight gain, not even how excited I am after three years of
kevetching and eight months of working at it to finally have experienced some
noticeable progress in my weight loss endeavors. The real point is that we are
never healed alone. That means, your healing, your progress, your blessing is
good for someone; someone else’s healing, progress, blessing is also good for
you. Because we are all part of the interconnected web of existence, when one
is blessed, the blessing is shared, just as when one is hurting, the pain is
shared.
MCC held its first worship service ever on October 6, 1968, in Southern
California. MCC predates Stonewall by almost year. MCC predates the
consecration of Gene Robinson as the Episcopal bishop of New Hampshire by 35
years. MCC predates the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America deciding that
gays and lesbians in committed relationships can have those relationships
blessed and can answer a calling to professional ministry by 41 years. But it
isn’t important who did it first. What is important that the healing that MCC
represents could not have happened in a vacuum. Because a church like MCC was
raised up to celebrate the sacred value of all people, to affirm the goodness
of human sexuality, and to declare that God’s love is all-inclusive and
unconditional, other churches were bound to follow that prophetic lead. And
more will yet… because we are never healed alone. The healing that began with
MCC was bound to spread to the Anglicans and to the Lutherans and to the
Congregationalists and in the fullness of time there will more Christians who
celebrate love in all its beautiful diversity than those who do not.
Pray… not just with your words but with your thoughts and with your
attitude and with your actions… and keep praying, and know that as you pray
for your Good you are also helping others, because we are all connected. The
good that is yours is not really yours alone… it helps us all.
I joke about my weight problems, and that isn’t to insult anyone who has
done the hard work of losing weight with more success than I’ve had; nor is it
to insult those who have not yet had much success with weight loss. It’s hard,
and some people are perfectly happy the way they are. And you know what, if
you feel good and your doctor says you’re health is good, then celebrate that
and don’t let anyone tell you that you are anything other than perfect.
But if you need to lose some weight, or gain some weight, or go through any
sort of process or procedure to improve your health, then I do want to say:
others have walked that road ahead of you. They’ve paved the way, showing us
that victories are possible. We aren’t healed alone. The healing of others
encourages us; our victories will encourage others. Take strength from divine
love, and know that your efforts and prayers are benefiting not only you but
someone else as well.
Maybe that’s what that special meal in Mark 14 is about today. You see,
these last five weeks haven’t really been about the bread. The story of the
feeding the multitude is a story about sharing, caring, noticing that others
are in need. Those loaves and fish are symbols of the compassion that sustains
people when it is shared.
The story of Jesus calling himself bread is a reminder of our unity… like
all the ingredients that go into a loaf of bread, we are all part of the one
Life, the divine life that expressed so powerfully through Jesus.
The story of divine Wisdom inviting us to eat at her table is a reminder
that we are all invited to the table of abundant life… no one is excluded.
And today, we have another story of invitation, of sharing, of unity… and
once again it is told with the symbol of bread. Jesus gives the bread to
everyone at table, leaving no one out. He shares a cup with everyone at table
and they all drink from it.
When we share our worship experiences, our prayers, our singing, our
rituals… we are actually sharing ourselves, getting what we need, giving to
others what they need. And in that loving exchange, miracles seem to take
place. Uniting, caring, sharing, remembering our connectedness is what all
these stories are really about. It’s not about the bread; it’s about
remembering that we don’t get healed alone. We come together. Someone gets
blessed. Because they are blessed, they can share their blessing. The
blessings multiply; they were never just for one. Bread and wine, eating and
feeding, fellowship and faith, sharing and healing, living and growing… these
things go together. It’s not about the bread, or who can have it or who can’t…
it’s about divine love that is never withheld from anybody for any reason.
It’s about the hope and healing this truth can give. And this is the good
news. Amen.