Luke 13:13-21
“We reached 2000 pounds! That’s a literal ton!” Tate told me on
Wednesday morning. He continued, “At
this rate, I believe we will harvest at least three tons, total this growing
season!”
I look around our Swords to Plowshares
Peace Garden and I see abundance. I see
generosity. I see hope in the midst of
sorrow and pain wrapped in the arms of joy.
I observe fearlessness in volunteering in the heat and in the rain. I hear stories of food pantries receiving our
produce six days a week.
At least once a week I am stopped on
my way out to my car with someone asking what the garden is all about, asking
if they can have “just two green tomatoes,” and asking about the crosses. There is joy mixed with sorrow in the telling
of our tale. There are two stories of
abundance…one of death and one of life, and both stories are about the value of
our faith that God is present in both ends and everywhere in between of each of
our lives.
Much of the conversation with Sarah,
Mike and Tate is about the sustainability of this garden. The abundance we are experiencing in our over
one ton of giving, so far, and in the abundance of people willing to give of
themselves to help others, requires this conversation. We walk around the grounds and look for ways
to develop better storage for our tools; dry storage for boxes to collect
produce and for the alfalfa bales needed to cover the garden for the winter;
for manure storage; for better composting and recycling practices; and for a
greenhouse.
In lots of ways we are talking about
building a barn to contain our abundance.
The man in the Gospel parable also was
experiencing abundance and also was talking about building a barn. But he didn’t appear to be discussing the
barn raising in any other way than to store up his own treasure, perhaps even
to the point of hoarding it, to keep only himself safe, protected and
sustained. He used a lot of “I” language
rather than “we” language, and that sounds, well, selfish.
Jesus reminded those listening to the
story that we each are on this earth for a finite amount of time. We each will die and none of us really knows
when that will be. He wondered “the things you have prepared, whose will they be?”
When we packed up our home in Minnesota to move
here, it was interesting to see what we had, what we used, whether or not it
was necessary or not and whether we could see a reason to keep it. Piles of pack, toss, donate. Discussions of memories, value of items, can
we emotionally purge while we physically purged our belongings?
What made this a little more
complicated is that we had not just our own stuff, we also have boxes of items
from each of Jeff’s grandmothers and his dad and his mom, people who are either
no longer living, or who is no longer able to keep them.
Trust me when I tell you we have more
photographs from over 100 years ago until now that hold faces and memories of
people we do not know, but we cannot bring ourselves to part with…at least not
yet.
I suppose we could say that the room
we fondly call “B-R 4” is our own little “barn” filled with abundant memories,
papers, clothing, childhood toys and all those things that are sentimental, at
least to someone.
How do we release this abundance? There are places we can take photos and films
to preserve them in more compact ways, but is that even worth it? Who, really, cares enough to ever spend time
looking at faces unknown with stories no longer remembered?
Maybe that’s what Jesus is reminding
us today. We each carry abundance within
us. So much so that it cannot be
contained. It must be shared in God’s
name. But it also can and should be
something that defines our individual selves in this world.
We can’t take it with us and we can’t
expect others to keep it, either. We
need to find ways to be good stewards of the abundant gifts we have been given.
There is abundance in the Peace Garden. And while we talk about sustainability and we
talk about where the money will come for next year’s garden, we give everything
away. Every piece of produce is given
out to someone in our community to nourish them and to help them to flourish,
so that they can share their own unique abundance in the world.
That, my friends, is stewardship. We give with joy without expectation. We seek better ways to give more. We share our story with local news outlets
and Episcopal news networks, on social media and around our tables. We write grants and we explore other
financial options that are outside of this place, outside of St. Alban’s
budget, so that all the ministries we do here, in addition to the garden, like
baseball, Worthmore, AA groups, our resident therapist, and more, can all
experience the abundance of who we are as a community of faith. We trust that God is with us, providing what
we need to make this place and her people good stewards of all that God has
given.
What does all this mean? I mean, it’s months away from our pledge drive,
right? Well, yes. And no.
Stewardship is a daily thing. It
is a reflection of how we live our lives.
When it comes to our pledge drive, that is our way to administer the
funds we each promise to give over the course of the year.
We have a leaky roof and we have a bat
colony living above our altar. We have
lots of property to maintain and we always, always need toilet paper. Just like in our own homes, we need to know
what we have to buy what we need. The difference here is that part of who we
are in the community is reflected in the way we live in the world around
us.
Our Peace Garden is our very outward sign of
our relationship with God and in our understanding that we cannot hoard what we
have been given by God. It is meant to
be given away: to the poor, the hungry,
the sick, the friendless, the wounded, the mourning, and everyone who asks,
searches and knocks.
It is by God’s grace we have been able to live
in this abundance.
I want you to know that this is not a sermon
asking for money. That is not at all
what this is about. This is a message of
abundance. It is a reminder to each of
us to look into the doors of our literal and figurative barns and see all that
God has provided. What are we each doing
with all that is behind those doors? How
long are we each willing to cling to what is there? When is the right time to fling the barn door
open and let it out, into the world, sharing the abundance of God’s immense
love?
Or is it time to build a barn because through
building a barn we are provided with an abundance of space to be able to give
back into the community the abundance we have so graciously been given?
One ton.
That is literally 2000 pounds. Abundance. Thanks be to God.
Let us pray.
O
gracious Father, who opens your hand and fills all living things with
abundance: Bless the lands and waters,
and multiply the harvests of the world; let your Spirit go forth, that it may
renew the face of the earth; show your loving-kindness, that our land, our
Peace Garden and all the various ministries here at St. Alban’s, may give their
increase; and save us from selfish use of what you give, that people everywhere
may give you thanks; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.