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09 August 1998
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Balding and a little stooped, he was well past the time of having children. As a young man he had given up everything, family, friends, land, livestock, livelihood, to follow God and the promise God made to him. Here he was, empty handed before that God now. Oh, to be sure, there was a son born of a slave, but no heir as promised long ago, no descendants as numerous as the stars, just this young man born to a servant in his household. The picture couldn't be more bleak. The promise of God couldn't seem more empty. And yet, as the story is told to this day, Abram (Abraham) kept talking with God, and placed his trust in God's word, despite all the evidence to the contrary. Is it any wonder that today he is still esteemed as a model of faith and faithful living?
Coming to worship today, we have arrived filled with worries, self-doubts, concerns, and distractions of all sorts. Much like Abram, much like the disciples we wonder and worry. And when we least expect it, we walk right into some of the most comfortable words of the scriptures: "Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." These words come in the midst of a longer discourse filled with powerful stories and sayings against greed and anxiety. These words come just before our Lord's instruction about how to receive the Kingdom of God: be prepared and vigilant.
"Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." What could be more precious, what could be more desirable than God's kingdom? And could there be any words more beautiful than Jesus' words: "it is your Father's good pleasure to give you [this precious treasure]." Our Father wants to give this gift.
No matter what kind of good works you are doing or have done, no matter how faithful you have been in prayers, in the study of God's word, in the care of your soul, you and I haven't done enough to earn our way into God's kingdom. Even Abraham didn't do enough. There is no getting around it. Our prayer of Humble Access has it right: "We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy Table." And we know it. Yet, here we are.
I suspect that we are here because we know the truth of the next sentence in the prayer of Humble Access, too: "thou art the same Lord whose property is always to have mercy." Which is to say: You are the same Lord who is the giver of all good gifts. You are the Father who gave his only son that we might live. That knowledge is grace. That knowledge, powerful and fragile at the same time, needs renewal in worship, and so we come. Thank you for coming here this morning to hear the Good News, and to renew your knowledge of the Father whose good pleasure it is to give you the kingdom.
You understand that it is in this sacred place that we come to hear and know that God extends a gift to us and we come to understand, anew, that we must reach out to receive it. Every Sunday we renew our knowledge of this fact of the kingdom life, of the life of grace, as we stand and come forward to communion. We approach this moment with the knowledge of our shortcomings, perhaps even with the fear that our unworthiness will become visible and shame us, and still we come forward, knowing that we are invited to the Table, we belong at the Table, no matter what we may think or feel, we belong at this Table because it is our Father's good pleasure to invite us to the Table, to communion. It is significant that we must move body and soul forward to receive communion, this isn't just a mental exercise.
Arriving, we wait, ready to receive God's gift. At the right moment we stretch out our hands, palms up—open and empty—ready to receive the Body of Christ. The gift is received and taken into us—not because we have somehow earned this, but because it is God's good pleasure to give us this gift as well.
Please note that our hands are empty as we receive God's gift. Our ritual reminds us that we have to let go of everything else to receive this precious gift of God's care and love. Our hands are as empty as Abram's. Trusting God's love, God's mercy, God's generosity, we come every Sunday to this moment of communion, empty handed. And every Sunday, we return to our pews, we go out into the world, filled by God's grace. This is the promise and pattern established long ago with Abram.
And its possible to find echoes of this pattern right in our own homes, in our own lives. Listen to this story from our day.
The cheerful girl with bouncy golden curls was almost five. Waiting with her mother at the checkout stand, she saw them: a circle of glistening white pearls in a pink foil box.
"Oh please, Mommy. Can I have them? Please, Mommy, please!"
Quickly the mother checked the back of the little foil box and then looked back into the pleading blue eyes of her little girl's upturned face.
"A dollar ninetyfive. That's almost $2. If you really want them, I'll think of some extra chores for you and in no time you can save enough money to buy them for yourself. Your birthday's only a week away and you might get another crisp dollar bill from Grandma."
As soon as Jenny got home, she emptied her penny bank and counted out 17 pennies. After dinner, she did more than her share of chores and she went to the neighbor and asked Mrs. McJames if she could pick dandelions for ten cents. On her birthday, Grandma did give her another new dollar bill and at last she had enough money to buy the necklace.
Jenny loved her pearls. They made her feel dressed up and grown up. She wore them everywhereSunday school, kindergarten, even to bed. The only time she took them off was when she went swimming or had a bubble bath. Mother said if they got wet, they might turn her neck green.
Jenny had a very loving daddy and every night when she was ready for bed, he would stop whatever he was doing and come upstairs to read her a story. One night when he finished the story, he asked Jenny, "Do you love me?"
"Oh, yes, Daddy. You know that I love you."
"Then give me your pearls."
"Oh, Daddy, not my pearls. But you can have Princess the white horse from my collection. The one with the pink tail. Remember, Daddy? The one you gave me. She's my favorite."
"That's okay, Honey. Daddy loves you. Good night." And he brushed her cheek with a kiss.
About a week later, after the story time, Jenny's daddy asked again, "Do you love me?"
"Daddy, you know I love you."
"Then give me your pearls."
"Oh, Daddy, not my pearls. But you can have my baby doll. The brand new one I got for my birthday. She is so beautiful and you can have the yellow blanket that matches her sleeper."
"That's okay. Sleep well. God bless you, little one. Daddy loves you." And as always, he brushed her cheek with a gentle kiss.
A few nights later when her daddy came in, Jenny was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed Indianstyle. As he came close, he noticed her chin was trembling and one silent tear rolled down her cheek.
"What is it, Jenny? What's the matter?"
Jenny didn't say anything but lifted her little hand up to her daddy. And when she opened it, there was her little pearl necklace. With a little quiver, she finally said, "Here, Daddy. It's for you."
With tears gathering in his own eyes, Jenny's kind daddy reached out with one hand to take the dimestore necklace, and with the other hand he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue velvet case with a strand of genuine pearls and gave them to Jenny. He had had them all the time. He was just waiting for her to give up the dimestore stuff so he could give her genuine treasure.
So like our heavenly Father. (1)
"Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." Amen.
(1) Alice Gray, "The Treasure" in Gray, Alice (Ed). More stories for the heart. Multnomah Publishers, Inc. Sisters, OR, 1997. Pages 147-148 Proper 14C, Luke 12.32
The Rev. Daniel Rondeau
drondeau@stmargarets.org
09 August 1998