What are they among so many?

“One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, ‘There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?’”

-John 6:8-9

                Big news in the Church of England today: five bishops have announced that they will be moving into the Catholic Church through the Ordinariate, which was proposed by the Pope just over a year ago. On Saturday, the big news in the Episcopal Church was that Gene Robinson, who sparked a storm of controversy when he was elected as the first openly gay Episcopal bishop in 2003, has announced his retirement.

The giant cogs in the Episcopal Church seem to be turning, while we members of the laity are left to watch. Of course we think that we are contributing, but how does my prayer group or your bible study compare to the influence and the power that these bishops have?

                At times it feels as though the bishops are doing the real work of the church, and the priests and the deacons are helping them out, while we lay members of the church are of little importance. We can almost end up feeling like spectators or outsiders. We each do a tiny bit of work for the church, but of what significance is our work among so many people?

                In the Episcopal Church, we have beautiful services, with wonderful music, powerful symbolism, and ornate decorations. All of these factors are magnificent reminds that we are in a holy place – that we are in God’s house. However, in this environment it’s so easy to get caught up with the pomp and the circumstance. It’s so easy to focus on the miter and the robes. It’s so easy to be awed by the bishop’s crosier and ring. And we can so easily come to the mistaken conclusion that these things are symbols of importance, and since you and I don’t have a miter or a crosier or a ring, we are unimportant to the body of the church. We look at the grand church compared to our own tiny offerings, and wonder what are they among so many people?

                We look at the power that the bishops and the priests and the deacons have in the church and compare it to the abilities that we have to shape the church. And we wonder, “What are my abilities among such powerful people?”

                What are they among such people?

“One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, ‘There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?’”

                As members of the laity, we are the people with the loaves and the fish. In the church, we do work of true substance and significance. If you walk down a street and look at the many acts of Christian love and charity that are constantly erupting, it is impossible but to notice that the vast majority of them are preformed without miters, collars, or seminary degrees. Even during a Sunday morning Eucharist, the overwhelming majority of smiling faces and warm embraces are from lay people.

                The purpose of the clergy is not to do all the work of Christ in the world, but to help equip the lay people to do the work of Christ. The clergy provide us with the spiritual food to support us through the week and then the laity is meant to joyously go forth into the world and follow Christ, improving the world around us. Our role is to actually perform the mission of the church.

                The boy with the loaves and the fish could have wondered how his few loaves and fish were of any significance, especially since he was standing in the presence of this great rabbi and his followers. Only five loaves and two fish. What are they among so many people?

                Only a lay person. What is the significance of that among such powerful people?

                We may feel as unimportant as a small child, but even standing next to one of Jesus’ apostles, the few talents and gifts that we have are of incredible consequence.

What are your gifts among so many people? They are the sustenance of the church. They are the food for the brothers and sisters of Christ.

Hope and Fear

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”
(John 1:5, NRSV)

            Just a week ago, in the dark underbelly of a plane, a bomb was crossing the globe, progressing from Yemen towards its destination in Chicago. There was a dull sound of wind rushing by the cool hull of the plane. In the cold, there was an ominous stillness; there was an ironic calm. In this tranquil, quiet darkness a single spark could have set off a deadly flash. This fatal light could have erupted in the darkness.

This deadly weapon could have so easily gone undetected. The clock counted down as this weapon traveled towards its destination, and officials weren’t able to disarm it until there were only seventeen minutes left on the timer.

It’s so easy to be afraid. What if that bomb had been on a plan that I was riding? Or that my parents were on? Or my brother? Or my sister? It is so easy to be afraid.

            In the darkness, we can so easily imagine a terrorist’s bomb exploding. When we find ourselves in the dark, we become nervous. When we are surrounded by peace, we look for an oncoming assault. We are acutely fearful; however, living in fear is nothing new. Our parents’ generation imagined the flash of a nuclear bomb in the midst of a dark night. However, it is much more challenging for us to imagine Jesus’ enlightening glory bringing beauty into our dark world.

            Nonetheless, the fear that can so easily overcome us and the hope that Jesus calls us to are both simply lenses through which we can look at our futures. We can take a guarded position, and protect ourselves by building walls around ourselves and expecting the worst. Alternatively, we can faithfully open our souls to God and forge bridges into the world around us.

            Of these two options, fear is much easier for us. When we worry about our futures, we take every precaution possible to unsure that things will turn out well. This self-reliance gives us the feeling of having control, however, it can also make it so easy to cut God out of our lives because we stop looking to him for strength. Being fearful and trying to protect ourselves makes it easier for us to not look to our neighbors for support, which makes it easier for us to forget about those who Jesus called us to love. We build defensive walls, leaving ourselves as the focus of our attention.

Fear has the potential to become very egocentric. We fear for our jobs. We fear for our successes. We fear for our finances. We fear for our family. We fear for our friends.

And, we forget about God and neighbors.

            On the other hand, hope revolves around God. We hope for a better future, putting our faith in God. We hope for happiness for our family, leaving God as the focus of our attention. We hope for eternal joy, putting our trust in God. When we live hopeful lives, we foster optimistic relationships. We connect to those around us and leave ourselves vulnerable to be touched by God. We build bridges with our neighbors and are able to look for the reflection of Christ in the faces of those around us.

            Unfortunately, living hopefully doesn’t come naturally to most of us. We need to foster and care for our hope as we would nurture a flowering plant. Hope is rooted in faith. Can we have faith that God loves us? Can we have faith that God has the power to bring about good in this world, in our lives, and in our souls?

Hope is fertilized with humility. Can we accept that there are problems that are not our fault? Can we accept that without God, we are powerless to bring about good in the world? Can we accept that we don’t find power in ourselves, but in the Holy Sprit working through us?

            Living with hope has the power to transform our outlook on the world. We don’t have to flee from every flash of light, expecting the worst. We don’t need to fear the dark. When we find ourselves in the dark, we can search with hope for the light that shines in the darkness.