More than Enough

Yesterday was my official "Farewell and Godspeed" party at Bethany. It was my last Sunday in the pulpit. My last Sunday in general actually. It was a morning of blessings for me. Instead of saying "goodbye," we said "until we meet again." And so many people expressed affirmation of my call and my gifts. I left feeling uplifted and ready for the next part of the journey.

Today, the next part of the journey consists in cleaning up my office, attending further farewell get togethers, and tying up loose ends. Trey and I hope to hit the road bright-and-early exactly one week from now. While I am super sad to leave Colorado, there's a cool, shimmery Minnesota lake waiting for me at the end of the road, and you can believe I'll be jumping right in. Of course, I'm looking forward to spending some time with my family...I believe they're excited to have us back (don't spoil my illusion if you're reading this!). And a bit of RnR will be just the thing we need before classes start on September 6.

The new intern was here yesterday. It was fun to pass the cincture (or the torch if you don't speak nerdy liturgist terminology). I told him that he is a lucky dude, that he's going to have a great year, and that I could not have imagined a better internship all around. It's true. I am glad to be sad to leave. It means I connected, I invested, I loved. And I will carry the relationships I've built with me wherever I go. But for now, I'd better get back to boxing stuff up. The to do list is long, and reminiscing is hardly on it! In the meantime, you can find my final sermon as "The Intern" below, may it inspire you!


“More than Enough”
Matthew 14:13-21
A sermon by Jessica Harris Daum
7-31-11, Bethany Lutheran Church

The last time I reflected on our Scripture for this morning, the story of Jesus feeding the 5,000, I was in a boat on the Sea of Galilee. It was just over a week into my tour of the Holy Land, and I had seen and experienced so much. The group I traveled with was not just in Israel and Palestine to see the ancient stones and walk the historic footsteps of Jesus, but we were also there to meet the living stones, the Palestinian and Israeli people who live in the midst of a reality colored by conflict and need.

By the time we found ourselves sailing across the soothing waves of the Sea of Galilee, I had seen and experience more than I could process. I had witnessed the frustration of Palestinian young people who were unable to move freely from their villages to other parts of the country and world for education or jobs. I had witnessed the fear of Israeli mothers who worried that the systems of bureaucracy and occupation would never create a peaceful and secure future for their children. I had witnessed the grief of people who had been cut off from their livelihood, their ancestral farmland, by a fence intended to bring security. We witnessed the pain of two peoples; people who were not so different; people who, when moved by joy smiled very similar smiles, and when touched by sorrow, cried the same salty tears.

Rocking on the waves in that boat on the Sea of Galilee, all of these scenes flooded my mind. When we had reached a point in the middle of the water, the boat’s motor stopped, and we were still. It seemed that each of us was lost in the same reflection. Then, Pastor Arnie, our group’s leader and guide, broke the silence. He recounted the story of Jesus feeding the multitudes.

Jesus had come ashore, from these very same waters and found a crowd. There were always crowds. It seems that they even anticipated where he would be before he got there. And there they were. (If I had been Jesus, and thank goodness I’m not, I would have been annoyed. He had set out to find a bit of solitude and here’s another crowd.) But Jesus wasn’t annoyed….instead “he had compassion for them and cured their sick.” And he spent time in their midst. Soon it was evening, time to go find dinner. But just as everyone began to gather up their things and kids to leave…Jesus issued an invitation to a feast, right there, in the deserted place. The disciples didn’t get it of course. And they wondered aloud how it could be possible to feed such a crowd, they weren’t rich after all, and McDonald’s dollar menu had not yet been invented. But we know where the story goes from here. Miraculously, with only five loaves and two fish, Jesus feeds the masses…and there are baskets of leftovers…not just provision, but abundance…Jesus makes their very little into more than enough.

After retelling the story, Pastor Arnie looked at our group and he must have sensed us wondering. We wondered, How is it that we can hear and believe such a story of Christ’s compassion and provision, in the midst of a present day reality of need and division? Then, looking at each of us, he said, “After seeing all we’ve seen here in the Holy Land, it’s easy to become overwhelmed and fall into despair. We see all that needs to be done and the little we have to offer, and we begin to wonder like the disciples wondered about the loaves and fishes, ‘What are these among so many?’ The problem seems huge, and we feel small in the face of it. But we know that Jesus multiplied the fish and loaves, and so we can trust that he will multiply what we have to offer. He will multiply the seemingly small efforts that we are able to make. He will make from our very little, an impact that is more than enough.”

This year, I’ve witnessed the miracle of the loaves and fishes, the miracle of more than enough. In fact, I’ve seen it more than once.

Within weeks of my arrival here at Bethany, I was amazed to witness the miracle of more than enough on October 10th 2010. The 10-10-10 campaign called upon each of you to gather and set aside a dollar a day or a pound of food a day for 100 days. And on that Sunday in October, at the end of the 100 days of setting aside just a little, I witnessed a miracle as the jars of dollar bills kept coming forward all morning long…until they amounted to a mountain of aid that would help Metro CareRIng fill the stomachs of hundreds of hungry families in our community. And on top of that, the mountain of canned goods in the hallway stood as a physical sign that through our small gifts God provides more than enough.

Lest I think that this miracle of more than enough was some sort of fluke, God made it happen again. On this altar at Thanksgiving, ordinary shoes became holy. In fact, it seemed like they were multiplying all on their own. And as I helped haul those hundreds of pairs of stinky shoes to fill the Soles for Souls shipping container, I felt like a disciple gathering up leftovers in my basket. Again, my eyes were gazing upon a miracle of more than enough.

These first miracles of generosity, and provision, and abundance are what gave me the confidence that God would help us pull off a crazy thing called Be The Blessing. As you all, one by one, signed your names to spaces on paper promising to give of your time and energy and talents on May 22, I witnessed once again, God’s multiplication. Do you know that together, more than 800 of us did in one day the work that it would take one person an entire year to do?! As a congregation we made an impact that was hundreds of times bigger than one person could have made alone. But what’s even more amazing is that God partnered with us. God multiplied the work, the smiles, the impact. We could never measure the results of a day like that, but we can trust that it was for sure more than enough.

There’s at least one more miracle of more than enough that I’ve been allowed to see with my eyes this year, and this one happened in me. A year ago, I worshipped with you all for the first time. Pastor Ron greeted me that morning…and then he tested my swimming skills by throwing me in the deep end of the pool! I didn’t know if I had what it took to stand up here in front of you all and do what I was called to do. But I didn’t have the chance to say all that before I was at the font, leading the confession and forgiveness. It wasn’t the last time this year that I felt like what I had to offer was too little. And it wasn’t the last time God took what I had to give and made it more than enough.

I have a favorite saying as a person going through the process of becoming a pastor. It goes like this: “God doesn’t call the equipped. God equips the called.” This saying is true. And it isn’t just about pastors. It can be scary answering God’s call in our lives—whatever that call may be. But God asks each of us to use what we’ve got to do his work. To bring our gifts forward without holding back. And as we do that, he promises to multiply what we have and make it more than enough.

Jesus could have fed the crowd on his own. Christ could have fed the whole world by speaking a word. But this wasn’t the way of Jesus’ ministry. This isn’t the point of Christ’s mission. God calls each of us to be participants in Christ’s mission of compassion to the world. God intends to feed the hungry in body and spirit. And he wants us to get in on the action. He wants us to be the ones handing out the loaves and fish so that we might witness the miracles. God wants us to care for our neighbors so that we might be changed in the process.

What is the food that you’ve been called to contribute? What is the little something that you can bring forth in faith so that God will multiply it?

Who do you know that is hungry? Who will you see this week that needs the bread of life? Can you be the hands and feet that bring it?

How have you been the one carrying the basket to gather up the leftovers? When have you witnessed God’s extravagance and the good news of abundance lately? Has it changed you to see the way God can create more than enough out of what you thought was much too little?

Are you the one hungering for food that satisfies? If so come, come to the table of mercy. Feast on the bread of life come down from heaven. Know that Christ, in all his compassion, has prepared a place at the table for you this day. And at Jesus’ table there’s always more than enough.

Thanks be to God! Amen.