John 6:1-15
Some of you might remember hearing about the tragic accident that occurred a little over a year ago on Matinicus Island. The long time pilot who brought mail and groceries to the island and was the residents’ primary transportation link was killed instantly when his plane went down in a freak wind shear. Paul Murray, a relative of this congregation, brother to Peggy and son to Pat Harmon, was one of the first responders on the scene. Another of our partners in ministry, the Maine Seacoast Mission’s boat, the Sunbeam, had just left Matinicus before the accident, headed to another island for the next day’s telemedicine clinics. Unfortunately, they could not immediately return as the tide had already fallen below the point where they could make it safely back in to the harbor.
But early the next morning the Sunbeam docked on Matinicus and hosted a breakfast for anyone on the island who wanted to come – those who had been up all night coping with the aftermath of the crash, and those who had stayed up all night too grieved and worried for sleep. The school children also came aboard for refreshment and games, and a safe place to begin to make sense of what happened. The Sunbeam was transformed into a place of open hospitality, a place where the pain of loss and the wounds of grief could begin to heal. Reflecting on what happened, the Rev. Rob Benson, part of the Sunbeam crew and pastor to the Outer Islands, said this, “So often in the midst of crisis we worry that our responses will be inadequate, unable to fix the cause of grief or stem its pain. And then, by the graced Spirit of God, we are reminded that what we cannot fix we can still tend, as bearers of light in the midst of all sorts of darkness, and harbingers of the rising tide of hope.” 1
What we cannot fix, we can still tend.
We cannot fix the sadness and dislocation in the lives of so many we hold dear. But we can still tend to their pain and grief through our quiet presence, through our prayers, and through simple acts of kindness that let them know they are not alone.
We cannot fix overnight our fragile, storm-devastated, war-torn world so that it will be safe and stable and healthy for children like Emma and Sophia and all our children, grandchildren and great grandchildren to grow up in. But we can still tend to the work of deepening relationships with those who are different from us; we can still strengthen our efforts for peace, and we can still tend to the work of being good stewards of earth’s limited resources.
We cannot fix overnight a nation divided by bitter campaign rhetoric, partisan fighting and differing feelings about election results. But we can still tend to the work of ensuring that all have equal voice and access and opportunity, and that legislation is concerned more about justice than about politics.
You and I are invited and called to tend to this vital work of repair and restoration because we follow the One whose whole ministry was about tending those very places where there was brokenness and loss, and whose life and love was all about including the ones who had been left out by the rest of society. Jesus, who never worried about whether there would be enough, whether he would have the grace or the strength or the wisdom needed, but who so fully trusted that God’s spirit and presence would be more than sufficient – this Jesus not only empowers us to minister so that all are satisfied, he also ensures that nothing we offer will be wasted!
“Gather up the fragments so that nothing may be lost,” he tells the disciples. For me, a significant part of the wonder and miracle of this story is how Jesus, with such intention, cares for the leftovers following the meal. He sees the abundance that persists. Paying careful attention to what has been left behind, turning toward what has been tossed aside, Jesus carefully gathers up and rescues what you and I dismiss as worthless crumbs. Jesus will not lose his hold on what is broken and in pieces. 2
It is a ministry of fragments!
And isn’t that an amazing way to look at and reconsider how we frame life and our efforts to make a difference? Instead of fretting about what we cannot fix, or being anxious that who we are and what we have will never be enough; we can still respond to Jesus’ invitation to be bearers of light with the little bits and pieces of the hope we have, the faith, our presence. The wonder of the feast wasn’t about the wholeness and perfection of the loaves. It was the broken bits that nourished, the fragments that fed the crowd, and the gathering up all that was left so nothing would be lost. This is our assurance that in God’s economy everything matters – the brokenness of our hearts, the fragments of our faith, the little bits of love and compassion and justice that I have seen you offer again and again to one another and this community and our world – this is what heals. This is the way we tend what we cannot fix.
Did you ever hear about the little girl who was asked by her dad to walk to the store and buy a carton of milk? She was gone a very long time, far longer than usual; and her father was worried. When she finally came home, he asked her what took so long. She explained that she had met a friend who had just dropped her precious china doll on the sidewalk and it had smashed all to pieces. “Oh, so you stopped to help her pick everything up.”
“No, Daddy,” she replied, “I stopped to help her cry.”
Dear friends, you and I have been offered by Jesus the awesome responsibility of helping our world cry, and helping to gather up the pieces. You and I have been invited to follow Jesus’ example of gathering up the fragments of people’s lives – their broken dreams, their shattered relationships, their battered dignity; and through the fragments of our lives to tend their pain and grief, to love them and ensure no one will be lost.
As we tend to this ministry, may we trust that there is abundance among what you and I see as only scraps. There is the persistence of plenty where we see only lack. For the miracle is – Jesus casts his circle around us and around all our bits and pieces. He blesses them and then uses us to make others whole.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
1. Maine Seacoast Mission Annual Report 2011
2. “Blessing the Fragments” Jan Richardson July 2012