Sermon for Sunday, July 29, 2012, Proper 12, 9 Pentecost
What is it that we know, and what is it that we don’t know?
These readings make me wonder deeply about the things I claim to know and the
things I claim not to know. We think we know what it would take to feed five
thousand people then, six months wages. What would it take to feed five
thousand people today? When we think of feeding five thousand people, do we
look at it as if it is the state fair, do we consider feeding people in that
way? Or do we look at our weddings, our blessing ceremonies, or other
celebratory moments in our lives where we fed, 10, 50, 100 or 250 people?
So what is it that we know, and what is it that we do not
know? I think it is an interesting question to ask ourselves, what is it we do
not know? What are the moments where we have been surprised by our lack of
knowledge, or where our knowledge was expanded by something new we had learned?
What sorts of moments make us think to ourselves, or exclaim out loud, “I didn’t
know that!”
I love it when Eliot or Naomi exclaims out loud, “I didn’t
know that, Daddy!” Being six and eight years old must be like a constant expedition
into the wilderness, discovery every day, always there are new questions, new
ideas, more crazy than yesterdays. Questions that are not steeped in shame or
embarrassment, because they don’t know something, but rather questions that are
steeped in curiosity because they want to know more about the world, not to
shape into something they can control, but because they want to be in
relationship with the world.
There is a good reason God gave us the brains we have, the
ability to reason as we do. God meant for us to wonder, God meant for us to question
and God meant for us to never be solidified within our own knowledge. Parker
Palmer in his book “To Know as we are known” explores the development of
learning and knowledge over generations, and has some sharp critique about how
we teach, and how we are asked to learn today. He talks about how we acquire
knowledge in order to shape the world into our own image, to make the world
look like how we want it to look like. Knowledge and information is given us so
we can understand it in a particular way, with particular bias. Knowledge is
passed on to learners to keep the learner distant from the world through
objectivity. Or knowledge is passed down as stone tablets that can never
change, as absolute in its nature, in a subjective way.
In our Gospel we see the objectivity of knowledge at work,
the effort to keep people distant from the world and the keep the learner from
being in relationship with the world. Phillip replies to Jesus’ test question
with the statement, “It would take six months wages to feed all these people.”
Phillip is trying to distance himself from the reality facing him, he is trying
to cut himself off from the need of the world surrounding him. In his effort to
distance himself from the clear need facing him, Phillip applies, what would
seem to us clear reason and logic, a statement and a fact that frees him from
having to help these people be fed. Phillip refuses to see the humanity, the
divinity in his own relationship to Jesus and his own relationship to his own ministry
with the people he is called to serve.
Simon Andrew fails to connect empathetically with the
situation as well. He finds some bread and some fish and says, clearly, this is
the limit, this is the amount we have, there is nothing we can do, it is a fact
that we cannot help feed these people. Why did the disciples behave in this
manner? Where were the questions? Where was the wonderment? They had already witnessed
numerous miracles and numerous acts of Jesus, what kept them in the dark, in
this moment? What kept them from seeing Jesus’ ability to feed all those
people?
Why not ask instead, from a place of love, from a place of
compassion about the need facing them, why not be aware of the power that Jesus
possessed, and that even they possessed in that moment. Te writer of the Gospel
of John believed they possessed this power, the question from Jesus is framed
as a test after all. Why not say to Jesus, “We seem to be short on food Jesus,
but we know that you are a wise and powerful person, how can we help feed these
people, what do you have up your sleeve Jesus, what is it you are thinking of
doing?” So when Jesus does feed these five thousand people, they aren’t
surprised, they aren’t so shocked at this effort, as we shouldn’t be either.
Likewise we can see the challenge of subjectively looking at
knowledge, now, I understand that these titles may just be totally wrong, so I
am asking you to bear with me on this. But this idea of subjective knowledge,
and maybe we should call it individualistic knowledge, this idea that what we
know is absolute truth, that our concepts, our ideas, our own subjective facts
can’t be changed and are 100 percent correct no matter the context, no matter
the environment. This isolation of knowledge to fit exactly what we desire
knowledge to say or to be is a great challenge in our intellectual and
political world.
Paul’s letters often feed into these kinds of ideas, who is
supposed to be silent in Church, women don’t say a word. Who is supposed to
sleep with who, LGBT community, listen up. Paul Belk and I are constantly
talking about how frustrating the Apostle Paul can be sometimes, not to mention
how clearly conceited the man seems to be. But then he comes up with the words
we heard today, the lesson we read today, and I begin to think, we might be
wrong about Paul, Paul.
Paul is fighting against this very idea that the knowledge
we possess, even the intuition we have is not the end all be all of our world,
of our lives. But rather our knowledge is nothing compared to the wisdom of
God, to the comprehension of Christ as our center. Paul writes, “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
all knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.”
What is it, that we know? Which brings me to a pause,
because some of you may be thinking well, what IS it that I do know? What can I
know, Mr. Vicar, what is it that I can comprehend? I guess what I am thinking
about is asking the question, how do we use the knowledge that we have? Do we
use it to divide and conquer? Do we use it to shape the world into our own
image? Do we use it to puff ourselves up? How do we use knowledge? Parker
Palmer, again, writes, “The minds we have were given to us for this purpose: to
raise to awareness the communal nature of reality, to overcome separateness and
alienation by a knowing that is loving, to reach out with intelligence to
acknowledge and renew the bonds of life. We must allow love to inform the relations
that our knowledge creates, with ourselves, with each other with the whole
world.” So, again, it comes down to love, knowledge is not information, knowledge
is love, and how we use knowledge is how we also love. We use our knowledge to
discover anew how love is at work in the world. We use our knowledge to
discover the core of our being, the depth, breadth, height, all those things
that Paul said, we use our knowledge to be filled with all the fullness of God.
Knowledge is love, and the discovery of love, is knowledge.
How can we be like Eliot and Naomi walking down the street on an evening asking
those questions that drive all adults crazy, but part of us is always so
grateful to hear, because it reminds us of the depth, breadth, height and
length of the love that Christ has for us. Wonder, friends, wonder until our
hearts are filled with the fullness of God, and in our wonder we will never ask
how we feed the five thousand people standing before us, we will just feed
them, because we know we can.
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