Sermon: Kitchen Comfort

02 August 2009

           

Rev. Jennifer Whipple
Congregational Church of Brookfield (UCC)

9th Sunday After Pentecost
August 2, 2009

"Kitchen Comfort"

Exodus 16:2-4, 9-15
John 6:24-35

Prayer:  May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our minds and hearts gathered here this day be acceptable in your sight, Oh Lord, our Strength and our Redeemer.  Amen.  

            Oh if my parents’ kitchen walls could talk…the stories they would tell.  My parents have lived in their small cape in Naugatuck since they were pregnant with me, and since the day they moved in their house has been a work in progress.  Especially considering my mom is one of those folks who makes decisions to change things on the spur of the moment – my dad coming home from work would find the wallpaper torn down or the rug torn up…generally a few days before we were due to have our entire family over for a major holiday.  Nothing like a little extra motivation.  So my parents’ kitchen at times has had a kitchen table where the four of us, my brother, mom, dad, and I, would gather for family meals – sometimes adding friends to the mix.  It has had a big sink that has bathed countless babies.  We have a big family.  It has had plenty of floor space to sprawl out on and get patched up from a bicycle accident or play music on pots and pans.  It has great counter space where – often against the rules – I would sit and share the trials of being a teenager and growing into adulthood with my folks – sharing with them into the late hours of the night.  It is the room in my parents’ house that truly lives up to the saying, “No matter where I serve my guests, they seem to like my kitchen best.”  During family celebrations at any given time you can find a couple to a dozen people in there laughing, grumbling, talking, and sharing the everyday trials and triumphs of life.

            My parents must have passed on the kitchen gene, because Ryan and I just closed on our first house in Naugatuck the other day, and even with more rooms than our apartment and without any furniture in it, we have already shared lots of stories and a meal with family and friends – in the kitchen.

            And as we prepare to refurbish our kitchen downstairs in fellowship hall I had the chance to sit in on a few of the meetings, and I was reminded that there are lots of decisions to be made about kitchens because they mean many things.  Kitchens tend to symbolize either want or plenty, either “get out” or “come on in,” either discomfort or comfort.

            I think in the church we sometimes make things a bit difficult to understand.  We use words that appear nowhere else in the English language.  We talk about things that are counter to the culture we live in.  We share in conversations that someone who has never experienced church life may not be able to get a grasp on – at least not without a lot of explanation.  Yet what we do that welcomes and allows a more comfortable “in” for everyone is, like good church folk,  we eat – we open up our tables in Fellowship Hall or out in the back parking lot for picnics and potlucks and campfire meals.  And we open up the table that is set before us today to anyone who has any desire – any sense that they would like to get to know Jesus – the one who shared countless meals with people as a way to break the ice, to share his message, to offer comfort and provision. 

            It is no surprise then that many of the stories we hear in scripture revolve around food in some way – either famine or feast, God’s provision for the faithful in need, and Jesus’ provision for those whom he invites into the fold.  Today’s scripture passages are no exception to this rule.  We hear in Exodus the story of the Israelites complaining against Moses and Aaron because they feel like they will starve to death in the wilderness.  At least in Egypt under Pharaoh’s oppressive hand they had enough to fill their bellies.  What good would it be to have left there for freedom and a new land if they died of starvation in the middle of the desert?  And Moses & Aaron, once again realizing that they don’t have the means to fix the situation turn to God.  And God, in turn, offers provision in the form of a test.  “I am going to rain bread down from the sky for you.  The people will go out and gather each day’s ration.  I’m going to test them to see if they will live according to my teaching or not.”  God would provide enough for everyone.  If they trusted God enough to provide each day, then they would gather enough for only their needs, and everyone would have what they needed to survive.  If they trusted God enough to provide…

            Our scripture passage from the gospel of John speaks about Jesus as the “Bread of Life.”  The people who came across the sea to Capernaum followed Jesus not because he was Jesus and they had fallen head over heels for him and his message, but because of what he was able to do on the other side.  You see, this passage comes just after John’s account of the Feeding of the 5000.  Five loaves and fish became enough to feed 5000 men, not to mention all of the women and children gathered there as well.  The folks who followed Jesus and his disciples to the other side came, not in search of what Jesus had to offer for their spirits necessarily, but they came looking for seconds.  After all, if you have an opportunity to eat more than your fill each day without having to work for it, wouldn’t you want to hop on that meal train?  (In fact that’s how I gained 30 pounds in college!)  But instead of feeding them again Jesus calls them on their bluff.  Instead of answering the questions they ask him, he says to them, “You came looking for me, not because you saw God in my actions, but because I fed you, filled your stomachs – and for free.”  And when they ask him what they need to do in order to become a part of the provisions God is offering – the food that will not perish, Jesus answers them outright.  “You need only believe in the one God has sent.”  Believe in me, he says, and you will find your needs fulfilled – clearly pointing to something a bit deeper than a second helping of lunch.

            In these passages God was and is challenging people to belief – and to the understanding that our needs are much deeper than what we fill our stomachs with.  In being present with the people in the desert, on the grassy hillside, on the lakeshore, and even right here and right now – God offers a presence and an invitation that is deeper than anything we might imagine.  God invites us to this table – in a new kind of kitchen comfort – and asks us to share our hopes, dreams, fears, wants, and especially needs.  God doesn’t say, “You need to look like this.”  Or “You need to make this much money.”  Or “You need to be totally blameless and sin free.”  In order to come to the table.  No, God takes us, just like Jesus took people all the time, just as we are.  And at this table the playing field is leveled.  At this table it doesn’t matter what we look like or what kind of car we drive.  It doesn’t matter how big a house we live in or where we shop.  What matters is that we are God’s children – loved and forgiven.

            There are a few things I find particularly interesting about our communion table.  One is that there are many who gather with us in spirit each month who cannot be here in body.  Some of the most heartfelt requests I have had for communion are from people who are ill and cannot make it to church, people who have just had babies, people who have literally lost everything and know that this is the one place where they can find common ground, comfort, and welcome. 

The other is that, much like we have the opportunity to do at our own houses, we serve one another here – and have a moment to share in this sacred meal – whether we know the person who is sitting next to us in the pew or not.  And mealtimes often lead to opportunities to share more deeply with each other – to share stories about what is going on in our lives – to minister to one another through the art of talking, listening, and prayer. 

             So the question for today is are you someone who comes to this place today seeking kitchen comfort?  Are there places where you are hurting and need to know God’s presence or the helping hand or listening ear of a brother or sister in Christ?  It is amazing how responsive people have been to the prayer cards that are in the meetinghouse pews or to the notes in the bulletin to let us know if there is someone or something in your life for which you need others to be in prayer.  Or how people have responded to the cards that we send out as your pastoral staff – as we pray for each of our members and friends, acknowledge the blessing you are among us, and invite you to let us know if there is anything we can hold in prayer for you.

             We hold a lot of stuff in our lives – many joys and many concerns, and it is nice to know that someone else wants to help carry some of that stress – be it good or bad. I had the opportunity to read a great reflection this week by a woman named Jan Richardson as she shared her thoughts about the scripture passages for today.  In her reflection she wrote, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately about provision – how I seek it, how I offer it.  Recognizing what I need can be a real challenge sometimes – and asking for it, even more so.  Yet I’ve learned that in order to provide for others, in order to be a blessing to others, I have to discern what provision I need for my own self, and to seek it out.  Though sometimes it comes unbidden, which is always a wondrous gift of grace, I find that it’s more likely to show up when I remember to invite it.”

              The flip side to today’s question is are you someone who has experienced it all, who is strengthened in Spirit and is able to be that helping hand or that listening ear?  I look out at all of you, and many of you have shared stories with me – your own stories of trial and triumph, of struggle and celebration often times around a table of some kind.  As we come to this table today we bring all of those stories, all of the things that we have done that have wronged God, and the knowledge of Christ’s sacrifice and God’s mercy and grace.  As we come to this table today we realize that in these humble gifts is our forgiveness, our spiritual provision, and our own kitchen comfort. 

So may we fill up on only what we need, leaving enough to go around.  May we be willing to bare and share the places where we need some extra help in carrying the load.  May we celebrate the amazing gifts that we receive from God and from one another.  And may we in turn be energized to share those gifts with one another and the world.  Amen.

 

Note:
Quote taken from “One Fish, Two Fish” by Jan Richardson – http://paintedprayerbook.com/2009/07/20/one-fish-two-fish/

 

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