St. Patrick: Intimacy with God

Dignity: You Feed Them

Rob Gieselmann, Pent. 13B, August 2, 2015

The kids were drawing pictures with crayons.  The Sunday School teacher stopped at each child’s desk to admire his or her religious art – a cross, or Moses parting the Red Sea – but when he came to Susie, he was taken aback, unsure of what she was drawing. Susie, what are you drawing? he asked.  Susie answered, Well, I’m drawing God. The teacher protested, But Susie, nobody knows what God looks like?! And without missing a beat, Susie responded, They will in a minute! Well - What does God look like?

Moses asked a similar question, facing God in the burning bush: Who shall I tell them sent me? God answered, Tell them this: I am that I am. I am, the verb to be, essence, God is life itself. Just the other day, I passed a guy  wearing a t-shirt, with the simple, un-capitalized words, i am. At first I was scandalized – God’s name, I am, is so sacred you’re not supposed to utter it, much less wear it on your chest – certainly not in reference to yourself.  But the more I thought about it, the more I wondered whether the guy is onto something. He carries life around with himself everywhere he goes – in his mortal body, the very flame and flicker of God exists. i am. Child of God, of essence. You and I are made in the image of God, ruach, the breath and spirit of God flow through souls like blood through veins. God said of you and me and all of this world at the moment of creation, It is Good. People are good. *Jesus might have worn the same t-shirt. Seven times in John’s Gospel, Jesus blasphemously and scandalously declared,  I am.  I am the bread of life, I am living water, I am the vine.    

              

But sometimes, Jesus can be so confoundingly esoteric. Do not work for food that perishes, but for food that endures to eternal life – he said, after feeding the multitude.  What does that mean? If one isn’t careful, one might conclude Jesus doesn’t think much of this world or this life. Only the spirit life matters. But let’s not forget, it was Jesus and not the disciples who first noticed how hungry the people were – He devised the game plan to feed the people. It matters to Jesus when people are hungry, spiritually and physically.  

Tuesday night, the Ascension vestry threw a lovely party to welcome me.

Thank you, Katie, Tracy and Vestry! Afterwards, some of us were standing around on Market Square Mall, when two homeless men walked-up and asked us for money. They didn’t say they wanted money so they could buy food. Maybe they wanted food, or a stiff drink – Regardless, I quickly pulled two bucks out of my pocket and gave it to them. To be honest, it wasn’t so much that I’m charitable, but more because I wanted to get back to our conversation. Essentially, I dismissed these two men with my two bucks. But they politely thanked us, and disappeared. Now, I realize how frustrating these encounters can be – you don’t know whether somebody is going to spend your money on food or alcohol, or medicine or drugs. Worse, the exchange itself feels like an intrusion – you are forced out of your own world and into their, and on their terms; you find yourself on the defensive. I have one friend who keeps granola bars in her purse, and hands them out when asked for money. But I didn’t have a granola bar on me, so like I said, I dismissed the men with two bucks. How often have I dismissed somebody who didn’t comport himself according to my rules? Reminds me of the Catholic bishop – the one in Iowa, or maybe it was Nebraska – one of his priests had given first communion to a girl in his parish. Only - the girl was allergic to wheat, so the priest gave her a rice wafer. The Body of Christ. The bishop heard about this, and revoked the girl’s first communion – rice isn’t wheat, and Jesus used wheat. I am wheat bread, Jesus said, not I am rice bread. By revoking the girl’s first communion, the bishop dismissed her humanity.

I’m about forty years late – but I’ve decided to read John Steinbeck’s, The Grapes of Wrath.  I was supposed to read it in high school, but I read the Cliff Notes instead! The Joad family are sharecroppers, and it is the Great Depression. Evicted from their land, the Joads are on their way to California, a dozen of them, piled impossibly onto a rickety old car, with almost no money. Somewhere in western Oklahoma they stop for gas and a little bread. Pa only has ten cents to spend on bread – he’s saving every penny. Could  ya slice me off ten cents’ worth? He asks Mae, the woman behind the counter. Mae is irritated – Pa’s dirty, his money is dirty, his kids are dirty. You can only buy the whole thing – all or nothing. Mae’s co-worker – Al - watches all this, and says, Gawd Almighty, Mae, give ‘em bread. After hemming and hawing, she sells him ten cents worth. But she watches Pa pull his few greasy bills from his pocket to pay. She watches his dirty boys stare at the candy behind the counter. Pa knows he shouldn’t, but he asks Mae, How Much? A Penny, Mae answers. Two for a penny. How are they going to make it to California if Pa buys the kids candy at every stop? But these are his boys … So he pulls out the penny, buys the candy, and they leave. As the door shuts, another customer – Bill, a trucker who regularly stops by – practically accuses Mae – Them wasn’t two-for-a-cent candy. Mae retorts, What’s that to you? Bill says, Them was a nickelapiece candy. I swear, something spiritual happens in the distribution of bread to a person who is hungry. Mae gave Pa bread – a charitable act – and she changed. And you and I change impossibly when we distribute bread to someone hungry. Spiritually or physically. Here, at this altar, or out there. And I’ve thought about it. I think I know now what I’m supposed to do when I encounter a homeless person – or should I say, when I encounter Jesus disguised as homeless – Turn my shoulders square to him, and give him my attention. Donate a little piece of my soul – I’ve got enough to share, anyway. The boys wanted candy, and Pa wanted to feed his family. And we’re all hungry for something, and Jesus is trying very hard to feed each one of us. Jesus plainly said to his disciples, at one point: You give them something to eat. And isn’t that what we promised at baptism: to give away a little bit of respect. Respect the dignity of every human being. You feed them.