Sermon preached by the Reverend John E.
Kitagawa at the Celebration of the Holy Eucharist on Sunday, 2 March 2008
(Fourth Sunday of Lent), at St. Philip’s In The Hills Parish,
Many of you have probably watched some of
CNN’s coverage of the presidential primaries.
[Don’t worry, I’m not going THERE.]
I have been fascinated by the increased use of technology to report on
the races. I am particularly enchanted
with the technology John King uses. If
you have not seen it, he can start with the map of a state, and then instantly
focus on a particular county or city.
Then, as if by magic, he moves his hands and presto, the screen zooms in
on a specific neighborhood with a satellite picture from Google Earth. So, for example, this technology was used to
explain low voter turn-out in the lower ninth ward of New Orleans. The Google Earth view showed the large number
of blue tarps sheltering the many yet-to-be rehabilitated and uninhabited
houses in that part of the city. It was
for me, a stark reminder of the neglect and indifference we tolerate and permit
two and half years after the hurricanes.
Last Wednesday, I was at a luncheon. Seated next to me were couples marveling at
the technology I just mentioned. They,
too, had been struck by what the Google Earth view of New Orleans’ lower ninth
ward revealed. The woman next to me then
talked about local usage of Google Earth for social welfare issues. The example she cited was the tracking of locations of supermarkets and grocery
stores. These locations were then
correlated with other data such as public transportation, income levels and
other factors. The result is a new term
to me: Food Deserts. It should be
no surprise that “food deserts” are found in the poorest areas of greater
Tucson. Beyond the difficulty of simple
access to food stores, nutrition is a huge issue. Apparently, people have studied what kinds of
food are available in underserved areas markets. Here is one example: we all know the
nutritional difference between fluffy white bread and multi-grained
breads. You can probably guess which is
more prevalent in the markets in underserved areas. Nutrition, of course, is hugely important
from early childhood development to life-long health. Years ago, in Baltimore I hosted a delegation
of Anglicans from Tokyo, Japan. Because
they were interested in social ministries, we went to a soup kitchen operated
by one of our parishes. Our guests were
impressed by the operation and the network of volunteers. On the other hand, they were puzzled by the
number of overweight clients they had seen.
They thought hungry people would be skinny. They had not thought through the impact of
diets high in fat, carbohydrates and sodium, low in fresh fruits and
vegetables. The combination of poor
access to good food, and lack of knowledge about nutrition leads to myriad
problems in the context of a health-care system struggling to meet the needs of
the poor.
Thanks to the leadership of Sun City St.
Philippians, and to the liturgical astuteness of Garmon
Ashby, we focus today in word, in song and in action on poverty and
hunger. Last year, Sun City residents
were concerned with cuts to our ministry budgets. Some wanted to call attention to issues of
poverty and hunger by supporting a First Sunday Music program. Others wanted to support direct
ministry. The result is that they raised
funds to support both music and outreach ministries. In addition, they inspired today’s food
collection. Tomorrow they will transport
the bulk of the food to the Interfaith Community Service’s Food Bank, where it
will be distributed to the hungry.
What we do today is clearly in the tradition
going back to ancient times when our Scriptures told of God’s compassion and
care for the poor. Psalm 34 is one
powerful reminder.
I
will bless the Lord at all time; with praise ever in my mouth.
Let
my soul glory in the Lord, who will hear the cry of the poor (Psalm 34: 1-2).
Jesus made the
connection between God and the poor even stronger and more personal. Remember with me Matthew 25, where Jesus
speaks of the righteous asking,
When
was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in
prison, and did not take care of you? (Matthew 25: 44)
He answered
them,
Truly,
I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not
do it to me (Matthew 25: 45)
This interchange
gives us a deeper perspective from which to consider one of the questions found
in the Baptismal Covenant.
Will
you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself[1]?
(Matthew
25: 45)
Earlier, we sang
words reaffirming this relationship between God and the poor, and echoed Jesus’
identification with the poor. This verse
contains an allusion to a biblical story, which gives us one of the primary symbols
of this parish.
When
a gospel sings of hunger for the Word and for the bread,
let
me hear how with each feeding of the hungry, Christ is fed:
how
as we attend their cry, loaves and fishes multiply
in
a eucharist of sharing, in a sacred meal of caring[2].
The inescapable truth is that our spiritual
health is inextricably linked with the ways we respond to the poor and the
hungry. Episcopalians know this. About a decade ago, there was a nationwide
survey of parish based social ministry projects. The survey found all sorts of compassionate
and creative projects. There was also
one clear conclusion. Almost every
Episcopal congregation, no matter how small or how large, sponsored some kind
of feeding program. I am here to testify
to the truth of this conclusion. I
worked with many tiny and poor congregations in Appalachian Maryland. Sometimes they were barely able to keep the
church doors open, but they managed two or three food baskets at Thanksgiving,
Christmas, and Easter. I used to marvel
at their determination and generosity when they had so little themselves.
I think St. Philippians also understand
something profound about the linkage between our spiritual well-being and
responding to the poor and hungry. I
have had a chance to take a quick look at some of the reports coming out of the
early dream-catching sessions. I have
seen a lot of dreams about outreach ministries, and about food ministries in
particular. The dreams expressed in two
sessions I witnessed were consistent. In
one, an individual dreamed that St. Philip’s would sponsor a soup kitchen at
multiple sites around the city. In
another one, I heard a dream of the parish doubling its commitment to Casa
Maria to produce 1,800 sandwiches and soup-makings every other week, instead of
every fourth Saturday.
I was reminded at Wednesday’s staff meeting
that I have a due-date for my Easter letter to the parish. I jokingly asked if anyone wanted to be my
ghost-writer. To my great surprise, I
got an email from one of our staff[3]
with some reflections. I quote her
here.
I
once was asked to explain the point of asking a blessing before eating. I said that there are two parts: thank you and I didn’t do anything to deserve
this—being mindful of your blessings and acknowledging that they are in fact
blessings. This not saying “I’m not
worthy.” It’s saying “I didn’t do
anything in particular to deserve the bounty before me; I recognize how very
lucky I am.” The blessing before a meal
is often referred to as “grace.” And
that brings us back to the point of Easter:
grace.
My colleague is
absolutely right! What have we done to
deserve the blessings of our lives? And,
equally, what have the poor and hungry done to deserve their lot in life? If you think about it, we are dealing with
the same kind of question Jesus was asked in today’s Gospel?
Rabbi,
who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind? (John 9: 2)
And, how does
Jesus respond? First, he says neither
the parents nor the man is responsible for his blindness. Secondly, Jesus says the man’s condition is
an opportunity to make God’s work apparent to the world.
Please listen to one of the Prayer Book’s
optional closing collects for the Prayers of the People.
Almighty
God, to whom our needs are known before we ask.
Help us to ask only what accords with your will; and those good things
which we dare not, or in our blindness cannot ask, grant us for the sakes of
your Son Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.
At the beginning
of this sermon, I talked about Google Earth and “Food Deserts.” That brief lunch conversation has caused me
to think anew about what to pray for, and about what “good things” to ask of
God. I wonder about the ways I may still
be blind to the needs and concerns of our brothers and sisters; and, what new
opportunities there will be for God to work in and through me. We have asked you to bring food today, and I
know the pile of food in front of the loaves and fishes logo on the altar hanging
will grow. Having heard just a bit about
“Food Deserts,” do food collections, even monthly or weekly collections
suffice? We already know the
answer. So, what will you pray for from
this time forward? What “good things”
are you going to ask of God? And, how
are you going to go about discovering the blindness that keeps you from seeing
the harsh realities the poor and hungry endure?
What new opportunities will God find to work in and through you?
In his book, God Has A Dream, Desmond Tutu shares a thought I hope you will
remember and return to often.
Dear
Child of God, do you realize that God needs you? Do you realize that you are God’s
partner? When there is someone hungry,
God wants to perform the miracle of feeding.
But it won’t any longer be through manna falling from heaven. Normally, more usually, God can do nothing
until we provide God with the means, the bread and fish, to feed the
hungry. … it will be because you and I,
all of us, have agreed to be God’s fellow workers …
There
is church in Rome with a statue of Christ without arms. When you ask why, you are told that it shows
how God relies on us, [God’s] human partners, to do [God’s] work for
[God]. Without us, God has no eyes,
without us God has no ears; without us, God has no arms. God waits upon us, and relies on us[4].
AMEN.