The Lad's Miracle Of Sharing
Stories
Object:
Contents
What's Up This Week
"The Lad's Miracle of Sharing" by W. Lamar Massingill
"Surpassing Knowledge" by John Sumwalt
"At Least I'm Not That Bad" by Terry Cain
What's Up This Week
We all know the power of our perception to shape the reality we experience -- as the familiar bromide from the world of politics reminds us, "it's not the reality that matters, it's the perception of reality." The stories in this week's edition of StoryShare examine different aspects of how we perceive reality. Lamar Massingill meditates on the feeding of the large crowd and wonders about how the young lad felt about sharing his lunch. No matter how reluctant he may have been, he perceived that sharing his small amount of food was the thing to do. Are we likewise willing to share of ourselves and our possessions for Christ's kingdom? John Sumwalt shares a vivid account of his experience of a presence surpassing knowledge -- and wonders if what he perceived may have been God's messengers. Finally, Terry Cain tells a story of the unintentional but destructive effects of sin… the devastating results that occur when someone perceives a selfish action as "no big thing."
* * * * * * * * *
The Lad's Miracle of Sharing
by W. Lamar Massingill
John 6:1-21
I wonder if this episode in the life of our Lord would have ever happened had it not been for the one whom Saint John called "the lad," which is basically a child. We really don't know whether it was a small boy or girl. Most probably in that culture, it was a small boy.
Have you ever thought about the attitudes and feelings the boy with the lunch had? Jewish mothers packed lunches before any of their family went on any kind of trip. It was their custom. So my guess would be that there was enough food that was fresh in more lunch packs than we know in that multitude, but not enough willingness to share it. I can almost hear the mother say before they left, "Now remember, and share!"
I'm sure the boy had some reluctance to relinquish his lunch into the hands of these mysterious others. Also, it was his lunch, packed with care and love for him to eat, and nobody else. Probably above every other hesitation was that of the "how" question, which even a child could see. "Even if I give my lunch to these others," he must have thought, "how does he expect to feed all these people with so little as I have to give?" It was a good question, and he would return home that day with the answer indelibly stamped upon his memory.
What I am suggesting is the fact that it is very possible that so many others were moved by the boy's actions that they were inspired to share their meals as well. It honestly very well could have been. And to me, it would be no less a miracle: people sharing together in order that everyone may have enough food. Can you even chew on that thought a while? If we all shared of our power and abundance so that everybody would have enough to live, the church (not to mention our world) would be revitalized in a way that we have never experienced before. Right now, it's not likely in our culture where the anxiety of accomplishment and the arrogance of possessiveness run down the gutters of our greed like slimy ditch water. For present Americans, there never seems to be enough. We have not caught the great change that a miracle of sharing could bring about.
I think there were two miracles that day. One, of course, was the miracle of feeding the people. But possibly more important than that, there was a miracle of the child's sharing, without which the miracle of feeding would never have been. I hope you can hear the words of Jesus ringing in your ears: "Unless you become as children, you shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven."
My point in this story, I hope, is obvious: the boy's action of sharing should be the church's action as well. So when we ask how the church can grow, which we seem always to be asking, please remember that each individual follower of Jesus is the church. A more appropriate question then would be: "How can I grow?" All it takes is a few people to seriously ask that question, and be serious about answering it. And no doubt, the miracle of sharing as the boy and Jesus shared would be part of our answer.
W. Lamar Massingill, a former Southern Baptist pastor, is now the minister at Richton United Methodist Church in Richton, Mississippi. He also serves as religion editor for the Magnolia Gazette and as a guest columnist for the United Methodist Advocate and the Richton Dispatch. Massengill is the author of two books, New Eyes: A Spirituality of Identity Formation and Soul Places, and he has lectured widely on the interaction between religion and psychology. He is a graduate of William Carey University and New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary.
Surpassing Knowledge
by John Sumwalt
Ephesians 3:14-21
I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.
-- Ephesians 3:18-19
Once upon a time there was a sleepy man whose eyes were opened wide one night when he saw something that surpassed knowledge -- indeed surpassed anything that he had ever seen or imagined before. It happened as he lay in bed contemplating the events of that day, and as he was about to remember his loved ones in his nightly prayers. He saw something like a small flashing light out of the corner of his right eye, except that it was not a light, at least not in any conventional sense.
There were no lights on in the room and the shades were drawn on the one window. The light moved around, flickering from one point to another about three feet over the bed. It was glowing in the center, a fiery orange-red like an ember plucked from the coals, and it had greenish edges that seemed to ebb and flow. As the man watched, mesmerized, slowly coming awake to the possibility that the light was not of this world, it became larger and shape-shifted into a small human-like figure, first a brilliant, radiant blue, then a rich, deep, divine purple. The figure came closer, a pulsating swirl, floating in an energy field that could only have been another dimension of reality usually beyond the ken of earthly souls.
The man put out his hand. The energy was thick, strangely palpable, a thick fog; it felt like thin water, if there were ever such a thing, though it was not wet. This alien being, for it was clearly something living, hovered over his head. He tried to communicate by thought, asking who it was and why it had come, but there was no discernable response.
Then in the peripheral vision of his left eye there was another swirling spirit, cavorting in the same way.
The man watched, comforted by their presence, assured in a way surpassing knowledge that he was not alone, never had been alone, and would never be alone -- and wondering if these visitors were angels, the messengers of God oft told by people of old.
This is what I, John Sumwalt, of Muskego, Wisconsin, saw over my bed July1, 2009, once upon a time.
John Sumwalt is the pastor of Our Lord's United Methodist Church in New Berlin, Wisconsin. John and his wife Jo Perry-Sumwalt are the former co-editors of StoryShare, and John is the author of nine books.
At Least I'm Not That Bad
by Terry Cain
2 Samuel 11:1-15
This Sunday's Old Testament scripture (the story from 2 Samuel of David and Bathsheba) is a most difficult passage to contemplate. Moral truths such as God's forgiveness or God's ability to use unlikely sinners to accomplish great things (David did do some good things) spring to mind. But the theme I always think of when I read this story is that we cannot excuse any of our own sins even though some of the greatest Bible persons committed sins at times.
* * *
Benny, like many other people, was out on a Saturday morning doing some shopping at the mall. As he was returning to his car to head home with a package or two, he noticed a woman, walking just ten yards or so ahead of him, as she dropped an envelope on the ground. As she walked on, obviously not knowing she had dropped anything, he called out to her, but she didn't hear and continued to walk away. He reached the envelope, bent down and picked it up, and started to call out again as he walked toward her -- but he still didn't get her attention. He glanced down and noticed some money partly showing in the envelope. He stopped a moment to think about his situation. Here he was, with an unknown amount of money belonging to a woman who was about to enter her car and drive away. It looked like quite a bit of money.
He glanced around the parking lot, and although it was a busy Saturday morning, there didn't happen to be anyone in sight. He was fairly certain that no one had seen him pick up the envelope. He glanced around the lot once more. By this time the woman had driven off.
Benny took the money out of the envelope and counted it: $137. As he glanced around the parking lot one more time, he thought about the situation. He told himself that the woman looked well-dressed and drove an expensive car; she no doubt would not miss the money. He had tried to get her attention. Then he remembered a rationale he had heard others use on occasion: Because he hadn't gotten the money to her, it would be a good lesson for her to be more careful. That lesson might stand her in good stead some day on another, more important, occasion.
Benny knew that he was in a bit of a financial strait at the moment and certainly could use the money. Then he remembered a Sunday school lesson only a few weeks before concerning the sins of Bible characters such as Abraham, David, and even Peter. The clincher for Benny was: If they could sin, then a lesser person like himself could sin on occasion -- no one is perfect. Still feeling guilty, he put the money in his pocket and drove home.
The next morning, Benny was in class teaching Sunday school as usual. He considered himself to be basically a good person. Everyone had faults, but he did usually try to do the right thing. After his class of fourth graders dismissed, Benny met Mrs. Capp in the hall outside the classroom door. "I want to talk with you for a moment," she said.
"Well, I noticed your daughter was absent today; I hope she isn't ill," Benny replied.
"No, Tracy is not ill, but she also isn't exactly well," said Mrs. Capp. Vera Capp went on to tell Benny that Tracy had been in a parked car in the mall lot the day before and saw Benny make very little effort to return an envelope a woman had dropped. Vera said her daughter idolized her Sunday school teacher as a saint and was devastated when she saw Benny take the woman's money. She cried Saturday and refused to attend Sunday school that morning.
Now Benny was devastated. He realized that David's sin, Peter's lie about knowing Jesus, nor any other Bible character's fault would excuse what he had done. His sin had multiplied and hurt Tracy, one of his charges. Another verse concerning something Jesus said came immediately to mind: "If anyone should cause one of these little ones to lose their faith..." (Mark 9:42).
Terry Cain is a retired United Methodist pastor, and the author of the CSS titles Shaking Wolves Out of Cherry Trees and Lions and Cows Dining Together.
**************
StoryShare, July 26, 2009, issue.
Copyright 2009 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
What's Up This Week
"The Lad's Miracle of Sharing" by W. Lamar Massingill
"Surpassing Knowledge" by John Sumwalt
"At Least I'm Not That Bad" by Terry Cain
What's Up This Week
We all know the power of our perception to shape the reality we experience -- as the familiar bromide from the world of politics reminds us, "it's not the reality that matters, it's the perception of reality." The stories in this week's edition of StoryShare examine different aspects of how we perceive reality. Lamar Massingill meditates on the feeding of the large crowd and wonders about how the young lad felt about sharing his lunch. No matter how reluctant he may have been, he perceived that sharing his small amount of food was the thing to do. Are we likewise willing to share of ourselves and our possessions for Christ's kingdom? John Sumwalt shares a vivid account of his experience of a presence surpassing knowledge -- and wonders if what he perceived may have been God's messengers. Finally, Terry Cain tells a story of the unintentional but destructive effects of sin… the devastating results that occur when someone perceives a selfish action as "no big thing."
* * * * * * * * *
The Lad's Miracle of Sharing
by W. Lamar Massingill
John 6:1-21
I wonder if this episode in the life of our Lord would have ever happened had it not been for the one whom Saint John called "the lad," which is basically a child. We really don't know whether it was a small boy or girl. Most probably in that culture, it was a small boy.
Have you ever thought about the attitudes and feelings the boy with the lunch had? Jewish mothers packed lunches before any of their family went on any kind of trip. It was their custom. So my guess would be that there was enough food that was fresh in more lunch packs than we know in that multitude, but not enough willingness to share it. I can almost hear the mother say before they left, "Now remember, and share!"
I'm sure the boy had some reluctance to relinquish his lunch into the hands of these mysterious others. Also, it was his lunch, packed with care and love for him to eat, and nobody else. Probably above every other hesitation was that of the "how" question, which even a child could see. "Even if I give my lunch to these others," he must have thought, "how does he expect to feed all these people with so little as I have to give?" It was a good question, and he would return home that day with the answer indelibly stamped upon his memory.
What I am suggesting is the fact that it is very possible that so many others were moved by the boy's actions that they were inspired to share their meals as well. It honestly very well could have been. And to me, it would be no less a miracle: people sharing together in order that everyone may have enough food. Can you even chew on that thought a while? If we all shared of our power and abundance so that everybody would have enough to live, the church (not to mention our world) would be revitalized in a way that we have never experienced before. Right now, it's not likely in our culture where the anxiety of accomplishment and the arrogance of possessiveness run down the gutters of our greed like slimy ditch water. For present Americans, there never seems to be enough. We have not caught the great change that a miracle of sharing could bring about.
I think there were two miracles that day. One, of course, was the miracle of feeding the people. But possibly more important than that, there was a miracle of the child's sharing, without which the miracle of feeding would never have been. I hope you can hear the words of Jesus ringing in your ears: "Unless you become as children, you shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven."
My point in this story, I hope, is obvious: the boy's action of sharing should be the church's action as well. So when we ask how the church can grow, which we seem always to be asking, please remember that each individual follower of Jesus is the church. A more appropriate question then would be: "How can I grow?" All it takes is a few people to seriously ask that question, and be serious about answering it. And no doubt, the miracle of sharing as the boy and Jesus shared would be part of our answer.
W. Lamar Massingill, a former Southern Baptist pastor, is now the minister at Richton United Methodist Church in Richton, Mississippi. He also serves as religion editor for the Magnolia Gazette and as a guest columnist for the United Methodist Advocate and the Richton Dispatch. Massengill is the author of two books, New Eyes: A Spirituality of Identity Formation and Soul Places, and he has lectured widely on the interaction between religion and psychology. He is a graduate of William Carey University and New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary.
Surpassing Knowledge
by John Sumwalt
Ephesians 3:14-21
I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.
-- Ephesians 3:18-19
Once upon a time there was a sleepy man whose eyes were opened wide one night when he saw something that surpassed knowledge -- indeed surpassed anything that he had ever seen or imagined before. It happened as he lay in bed contemplating the events of that day, and as he was about to remember his loved ones in his nightly prayers. He saw something like a small flashing light out of the corner of his right eye, except that it was not a light, at least not in any conventional sense.
There were no lights on in the room and the shades were drawn on the one window. The light moved around, flickering from one point to another about three feet over the bed. It was glowing in the center, a fiery orange-red like an ember plucked from the coals, and it had greenish edges that seemed to ebb and flow. As the man watched, mesmerized, slowly coming awake to the possibility that the light was not of this world, it became larger and shape-shifted into a small human-like figure, first a brilliant, radiant blue, then a rich, deep, divine purple. The figure came closer, a pulsating swirl, floating in an energy field that could only have been another dimension of reality usually beyond the ken of earthly souls.
The man put out his hand. The energy was thick, strangely palpable, a thick fog; it felt like thin water, if there were ever such a thing, though it was not wet. This alien being, for it was clearly something living, hovered over his head. He tried to communicate by thought, asking who it was and why it had come, but there was no discernable response.
Then in the peripheral vision of his left eye there was another swirling spirit, cavorting in the same way.
The man watched, comforted by their presence, assured in a way surpassing knowledge that he was not alone, never had been alone, and would never be alone -- and wondering if these visitors were angels, the messengers of God oft told by people of old.
This is what I, John Sumwalt, of Muskego, Wisconsin, saw over my bed July1, 2009, once upon a time.
John Sumwalt is the pastor of Our Lord's United Methodist Church in New Berlin, Wisconsin. John and his wife Jo Perry-Sumwalt are the former co-editors of StoryShare, and John is the author of nine books.
At Least I'm Not That Bad
by Terry Cain
2 Samuel 11:1-15
This Sunday's Old Testament scripture (the story from 2 Samuel of David and Bathsheba) is a most difficult passage to contemplate. Moral truths such as God's forgiveness or God's ability to use unlikely sinners to accomplish great things (David did do some good things) spring to mind. But the theme I always think of when I read this story is that we cannot excuse any of our own sins even though some of the greatest Bible persons committed sins at times.
* * *
Benny, like many other people, was out on a Saturday morning doing some shopping at the mall. As he was returning to his car to head home with a package or two, he noticed a woman, walking just ten yards or so ahead of him, as she dropped an envelope on the ground. As she walked on, obviously not knowing she had dropped anything, he called out to her, but she didn't hear and continued to walk away. He reached the envelope, bent down and picked it up, and started to call out again as he walked toward her -- but he still didn't get her attention. He glanced down and noticed some money partly showing in the envelope. He stopped a moment to think about his situation. Here he was, with an unknown amount of money belonging to a woman who was about to enter her car and drive away. It looked like quite a bit of money.
He glanced around the parking lot, and although it was a busy Saturday morning, there didn't happen to be anyone in sight. He was fairly certain that no one had seen him pick up the envelope. He glanced around the lot once more. By this time the woman had driven off.
Benny took the money out of the envelope and counted it: $137. As he glanced around the parking lot one more time, he thought about the situation. He told himself that the woman looked well-dressed and drove an expensive car; she no doubt would not miss the money. He had tried to get her attention. Then he remembered a rationale he had heard others use on occasion: Because he hadn't gotten the money to her, it would be a good lesson for her to be more careful. That lesson might stand her in good stead some day on another, more important, occasion.
Benny knew that he was in a bit of a financial strait at the moment and certainly could use the money. Then he remembered a Sunday school lesson only a few weeks before concerning the sins of Bible characters such as Abraham, David, and even Peter. The clincher for Benny was: If they could sin, then a lesser person like himself could sin on occasion -- no one is perfect. Still feeling guilty, he put the money in his pocket and drove home.
The next morning, Benny was in class teaching Sunday school as usual. He considered himself to be basically a good person. Everyone had faults, but he did usually try to do the right thing. After his class of fourth graders dismissed, Benny met Mrs. Capp in the hall outside the classroom door. "I want to talk with you for a moment," she said.
"Well, I noticed your daughter was absent today; I hope she isn't ill," Benny replied.
"No, Tracy is not ill, but she also isn't exactly well," said Mrs. Capp. Vera Capp went on to tell Benny that Tracy had been in a parked car in the mall lot the day before and saw Benny make very little effort to return an envelope a woman had dropped. Vera said her daughter idolized her Sunday school teacher as a saint and was devastated when she saw Benny take the woman's money. She cried Saturday and refused to attend Sunday school that morning.
Now Benny was devastated. He realized that David's sin, Peter's lie about knowing Jesus, nor any other Bible character's fault would excuse what he had done. His sin had multiplied and hurt Tracy, one of his charges. Another verse concerning something Jesus said came immediately to mind: "If anyone should cause one of these little ones to lose their faith..." (Mark 9:42).
Terry Cain is a retired United Methodist pastor, and the author of the CSS titles Shaking Wolves Out of Cherry Trees and Lions and Cows Dining Together.
**************
StoryShare, July 26, 2009, issue.
Copyright 2009 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
