Christ the King-Epiphany, Wilbraham

The Rev. Martha S. Sipe

July 28, 2024 / Tenth Sunday after Pentecost / Lectionary 17B

John 6:1-21

In this one, long-ish Gospel lesson, we hear two different stories.  Two very different stories:  first, John’s account of the feeding of the multitude, followed by John’s narrative about the disciples in the boat.  Both tales have in common that Jesus can do some pretty awesome things:  multiplying loaves and fish, on the one hand, and then also walking on water.  (Notice in this story, he doesn’t calm the storm.  But to walk on water is equally spectacular.)  Both stories remind us that Jesus’ power supersedes normal human and earthly limitations.  But in reading this passage this time around, I noticed something else that ties these two stories together.  They’re both about vulnerable people and how Jesus responds to their needs.

The crowd who had joined Jesus on the mountain by the sea were vulnerable, out in the wilderness, away from the comfort of their homes.  John tells us they had followed him because they had seen the signs he was doing for the sick.  I doubt that they were just curious to see Jesus perform a miracle.  I suspect that most of the people in that crowd were there with the intent to ask for healing for themselves or for a loved one – that they were hungry for relief from pain and suffering.  With the passing of time, however, as they waited to glimpse Jesus’ mercy in action, they also became physically hungry for something to eat.  Then Jesus, the merciful healer, also provided mercy through a meal, taking the small offering of a boy and miraculously stretching it to provide for all in attendance, with lots of leftovers to boot.  Jesus had compassion on those whose bodies were vulnerable because of illness and hunger.

Then in the second story, the disciples are the ones who were vulnerable.  They were without their master, who had retreated to the mountain, undoubtedly for some time for rest and prayer.  Several miles out to sea in their boat, the wind blew up and the sea became rough.  Seeing Jesus walking toward them across the surging waves, they were frightened.  Were they afraid that Jesus would perish in the waves?  Were they scared because they thought Jesus was a ghost, a detail that Matthew and Mark include when they tell this story?  Or were they just freaked out about seeing Jesus doing something that defied the laws of nature?  We don’t know.  We only know that they were terrified.  But Jesus was quick to put them at ease, gently urging them not to be afraid because he was with them.  Jesus had compassion on those whose hearts and minds were made vulnerable by fear.

As most of you already know, today we are bringing to completion our Stuff the Duffel project, an effort to help children transitioning into foster care.  Foster children are truly some of the most vulnerable people in our society.  They, like the crowd that followed Jesus, are vulnerable because they are heartsick and hungry.  They’re heartsick to be removed from their homes and families, while at the same time they are also hungry for stability and security.  Like the disciples in the midst of the storm, foster kids are terrified by changes and circumstances beyond their control.  In the latest data available, there were 9,160 children between the ages of birth and 17 in foster care in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.  The national average rate of children in foster care is 5.1 for every 1000 children.  We rank 34th among the 50 states with 6.7 out of every 1000 children in the Bay State placed in foster care.  28% of those children are placed with a relative; but 53% of foster children are placed with a non-relative or in a group home or institution – so with someone they don’t know.  And 47% of foster kids nationwide have more than two different placements during their time in the system, meaning that many kids don’t find stability and security even in the homes designed to give them just that.  It seems to me that this is the very definition of vulnerability.

But, as followers of the way of Jesus, we are reaching out to these vulnerable ones with compassion, and I thank God for the generosity you have already shown by donating items for their duffel bags.  Through your efforts, children who have learned that they are unimportant will receive new things of their own.  Toiletries and hygiene supplies communicate the importance of self-care and self-worth.  Blankets help soothe and comfort.  The paper and colored pencils give each child a way of safely expressing some of their big feelings about their situation.  And the supportive message that is being added to each bag communicates hope.  So maybe we’re not doing miracles, maybe we’re not feeding the masses or walking on water, but we are following the way of Jesus by sharing compassion with the vulnerable.

And let’s talk about the duffel bags themselves.  Because children entering foster care are often removed from unsafe situations in haste, all their belongings are quickly gathered in whatever container is at hand – most often, a black garbage bag.  In fact, the garbage bag is sort of the unofficial symbol of foster care.  How sad is that!  Think about the effect of seeing all your belongings, all the things that bring you comfort, all that makes you dumped into a garbage bag.  Think about the message that sends to a child.  You are not important.  You don’t matter.  You are trash.  And it just needs to be said that children don’t go into foster care because of anything they did.  But it's hard to communicate that vital message to a child when all their stuff is in a trash bag.  That’s why we’re stuffing duffels.  And I hope you will stay after church today to do that.

Jesus saw the vulnerable, and he had compassion on them.  That’s why we do what we do:  we want to be like Jesus.  You know, we don’t perform this outreach ministry – or any of the things we do when we follow Jesus – to get points.  To get extra credit.  To earn God’s love or forgiveness.  We stuff duffels and shop for the Survival Center and contribute our change to the Babies Home and serve meals at Loaves and Fishes and love our neighbors simply because we know how loved and blessed we are and we want to pass it on.  We can do this work in this place because it is here, in this place, that we get regular reminders of what Karli learned in the little Muppet video: 

We are safe.  We are strong.  

There is a place for us here.  

We belong . . . because of Jesus.

  Statistics from Annie E. Casey Foundation:  Kids Count Data Center.  Latest data as of 2021.