Sunday
October 20
By Marsh Chapel
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The text of this sermon is not available at this time. We apologize for any inconvenience.
– The Rev. Dr. Jessica Chicka
University Chaplain for International Students
Sunday
July 7
By Marsh Chapel
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The text of this sermon is not available at this time. We apologize for any inconvenience.
- The Rev. Dr. Jessica Chicka
University Chaplain for International Students
Sunday
June 2
By Marsh Chapel
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The text of this sermon is not available at this time. We apologize for any inconvenience.
Sunday
May 26
By Marsh Chapel
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Good morning, Marsh Chapel! I hope you have been enjoying our beautiful warm weather this holiday weekend. I personally spent several hours yesterday sitting on the BU beach behind the chapel enjoying the beauty of late spring while working on this sermon. I’d like to thank Dean Hill for inviting me to preach today, even if it is t\Trinity Sunday, notoriously one of the most difficult topics to preach about. But, I’m up to the challenge if you all are!
We’re entering into a new season here at BU – the class of 2024 has graduated, the campus is slightly less bustling than it was a few weeks ago, and we all have a little more breathing room as the slower pace of the summer creeps in. We find time to catch up on our reading and to do some professional development, preparing for the next year. We also have a little more breathing room outside of work for those things that bring us joy and help us learn a new skill or develop a new interest. In my spare time, I have been working on my own self-improvement. Almost three years ago, I jumped back into re-learning German. Now, I had studied German in middle and high school, even into college with the thought that I might be a German major. There’s something I love about the orderliness of the language. It’s almost like an equation to put together a sentence. My drive to get back into learning German, apart from the academic needs I have, was mostly based in relationship. My best friend moved to Germany about eight years ago and she had never studied German. So, as she was learning a new language, I too found myself yearning to go back and relearn what I had forgotten.
I chose to go the path of Duolingo. For those of you unfamiliar, Duolingo is an app that basically gamifies language learning. You earn points for each lesson you complete. You compete with strangers in “leagues” to have the most points at the end of each week. You try to keep up your daily practice streak, earning badges and accolades along the way. If you’re lucky enough, a kind friend will add you to their family plan so you have access to Super Duolingo, which allows you to make as many mistakes as you want and to not have to watch ads. Does anyone here use Duolingo? Ok, well, not to brag or anything, but I’m on a 1064 day learning streak with 44 weeks in the Diamond League. I know that sounds like nonsense if you don’t have the app, but trust me, it’s very impressive.
One beautiful thing about the German language (and yes, I know that it’s often made fun of for sounding harsh and brutal) is how words are formed. You see, one could make the case that Germans are very literal people. When they need to make a new word for something, often times they will take already existing words that sort of explain the meaning of the word and smoosh them together to form a new word. So, for example, Waldsterben, literally forest death, is a term used for tree decline in the 1970’s. Another example, Kümmerspeck, literally, “worry bacon,” means the fat one gains from stress eating. Of course, there are also other words that we know in English that can only be said in German – Shadenfreude, literally “damage or harm joy”, the joy one experiences at the misfortune of another. Or Zeitgeist, literally “spirit time”, meaning the feeling of a particular moment in time. I’m sure there are other examples you can think of in other languages as well, but as I’ve primarily studied German, these are the ones I can point to. It’s how German ends up with compound words over 50 letters long (the longest is 79 letters – I’m not going to try to pronounce it for you, but it is related to how a law should regulate the transfer of monitoring tasks of beef labeling and cattle identification.
The reason that I bring up the linguistic stylings of German words is because it shows how two different, separate words can point to a third meaning while still giving a hint of what the original words stood for. As a learner, it certainly makes it easier to remember what more complex words mean when the root words point to that meaning by their own meanings. The new word both is and is not what the two (or more) root words mean. We don’t exactly have the same usage in English – we’re more likely to come up with a new word rather than sticking two words that describe the thing together and saying that’s the word for it. The funny thing about language is the nuance it carries with it. Native speakers get that nuance. We understand the idioms of our language pretty clearly most of the time and expect that others will also understand those phrases. Working with international students, however, I’ve found that it’s important to evaluate our own language use. Even if you think you’re speaking in a way that’s clear, idioms seem to sneak in unknowingly, leaving those who are not native speakers confused. For example, saying that you’re “pulling someone’s leg” may seem obvious to those who have grown up speaking English, but if you think about what that phrase means literally and what it means figuratively, it’s hard to explain how you mean that you’re only joking, not literally pulling someone’s leg. Language can also serve as a barrier to understanding, especially when that language is used metaphorically.
Throughout the Bible, metaphor is used frequently to explain the attributes of God. God is a rock. God is a mountain. God is a Fortress. God is Love. Jesus is the Word made Flesh. Jesus’ body is the bread and wine. The Holy Spirit is the breath of life. Most notably for this day is our conception of God as Father, Jesus as Son, and the Holy Spirit to compose the triune God. While these separate pieces may function in different ways, Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer, for example, in our theological understanding, they are all one. It’s the “great mystery” of Christianity. We understand that these three attributes of God are all God equally, but it’s hard to fully comprehend how 1 + 1 +1 = 1. Language limits our ability to talk about God because God is beyond our conceptually abilities to describe completely. God is defined, in a way, by our relationship with God, which defies complete linguistic capabilities. The 20th Century French philosopher, Simone Weil, states succinctly how challenging it is to know God in our limited capacity as humans:
“There is a God. There is no God. Where is the problem? I am quite sure that there is a God in the sense that I am sure my love is no illusion. I am quite sure there is no God in the sense that I am sure there is nothing which resembles what I can conceive of when I say that word.”1
Weil’s assertion is that human being’s ability to properly conceptualize what God is is impossible because of the limitations of language and our own human thought processes. There is not absolute certainty in her thoughts about God because she is aware of these limitations. God is so completely other than us that we do not have the adequate language to speak about God’s nature except in slivers of what we can compare it to.
That’s where metaphor helps us. Just like the construction of German complex nouns, metaphors are ways of describing something by pointing to what it both “is and is not.” A metaphor creates relational tension between the word being used and the actual thing it is describing. So yes, God is Love, God is the source of love, but God is not just love. God is a rock, in that God is a solid foundation, but God is not literally a rock. Theologian Sallie McFague makes the argument in her book Metaphorical Theology: Models of God in Religious Language that we need to recognize that “metaphor is the way we think, and it is the way the parables – a central form of expression in the New Testament – work.”2 Metaphor isn’t just some literary device used for poetry and artistic thinking, but is the basis for how we think about the world – we naturally relate things to others by their similarities. It’s how we know an apple is red, a stop sign is red, BU’s color is red. The definition of “red” is based on comparison. We build models, whether we know it or not, that aid us in understanding the world. It is also the way that we connect with the Divine. McFague’s central argument in her book by recognizing this use of metaphor in all of our language and particularly in the language of scripture, Christians should develop a series of flexible models of God that allow all people to conceive of the Divine in multiple ways. By doing so, theology is not limited to one dominant viewpoint that can become either idolatrous or irrelevant to the experiences and contexts of Christian worshippers. For example, while the traditional trinitarian model of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit may be comforting and relevant for some, we must recognize how it also alienates and has been weaponized to oppress marginalized peoples.
The Gospel of John is rife with metaphorical language. The Gospel of John is often credited with being the most poetic of the gospels, using literary devices to allow for the mystery of God to be maintained while telling a narrative story about the life of Jesus. In fact, right at the beginning of the Gospel, we find metaphor “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1). And then later in verse 10, John tells us that the Word (Jesus) came into the world, but the world did not know him. The tension of being recognized in the world, but not fully understood makes Jesus into a living metaphor in the Gospel of John. The entire presence of God is shrouded in this mystery as the book progresses. We see some of that mystery in the scripture selected for today.
In today’s Gospel, Nicodemus, a leader in the Jewish community, comes to Jesus and states, “we know that you are a teacher and that you come from God.” Nicodemus thinks he understands Jesus’ place in society because of the things he has witnessed about him – he teaches, and the things he appears to know and do only could come from a divine source. He and the other Pharasees think they know who Jesus is, but Jesus points out that what they think they know is not truly them understanding what his role is, nor how it relates to God and the Holy Spirit. When Jesus speaks of spiritual birth, being born from heaven, Nicodemus is confused – how could someone who is grown be born…again? Jesus’ meanings, like so many times in the Gospels, seems obscured, leaving those he talks to confused or bewildered by his statements. The poetic language Jesus uses to explain himself, God, and the Holy Spirit, the three in one form of God, is meant to provide a framework for those he encounters, but also to reminds them of the divine mystery.
So, we are not alone in our confusion about the Trinity, or how to properly conceive of God. Nicodemus doesn’t understand who or what Jesus is doing or how this relates to the bigger picture of God’s presence in the world. Of course, as we look upon this writing, we know how Jesus’ ministry will progress and how his death and resurrection will demonstrate his role as savior. But that doesn’t mean we aren’t still allowed to feel challenged by God’s nature. It’s here that we need to establish the difference between knowing and understanding something. Knowing usually means having an awareness of something, whereas understanding is a higher level operation of thinking that allows for interpretation, processing, and then application of that awareness. Nicodemus knows that Jesus is a teacher, he is aware of the things Jesus has done to earn that label, but Nicodemus does not understand that while Jesus is a teacher, a teacher in this situation is so much more than explaining facts. Jesus’ ministry brings people into the kingdom of God (another metaphorical idea) and allows them to be spiritually reborn. Jesus’ metaphorical language is bound by human understanding, but pushes Nicodemus and us to think of God as much more than what we can conceive.
Theologians continue this work grounded in the parabolic and metaphorical nature of the scriptures. I mentioned earlier that Sallie McFague’s metaphorical theology aims at creating a framework for thinking about God that allows for multiple models. Each of these models is grounded in a particular starting point, a root metaphor. For the apostle Paul (and Martin Luther) it’s justification through grace by faith. For Augustine it’s radical dependence on God alone. For Paul Tillich, it’s the ultimate concern hidden in the pentultimate concern.3 Out of these root metaphors, then systems of metaphor develop that point back to that root metaphor. So if the primary thinking about God is as a liberator, the metaphorical language used to describe God, such as justice and righteousness will be used more heavily to support that position. There can be multiple ways of thinking about how we relate to God and what that relationship means in our daily lives. What McFague is addressing through this approach to theology is that the metaphors used for God do not become idolatrous or irrelevant to the point that it becomes easy to feel disconnected from the divine. Language is always shifting and is context dependent. Our experiences of the divine should shape the language we use to describe God, rather than being stuck in one mode of understanding. Yes, we rely on tradition as it connects us with the historical church and ways of worship throughout the ages, but we can also use our new experiences and understandings of the world to help us better understand our relationship with the divine through our language. Our models for God help us expand our relationship with God by mirroring God’s expansive presence in our lives.
Take, for example, these series of describing the Trinity from the communion liturgy from my own Lutheran tradition for today:
Holy God, Holy One, Holy Three,
Our Life, our Mercy, our Might,
Our Table, our Food, our Server,
Our Rainbow, our Ark, our dove.
Our sovereign, our water, our wine,
Our light, our treasure, our tree,
Our way, our truth, our life.4
The Trinity is all of these things, and yet at the same time none of these things. Metaphor points us in the direction of God’s qualities, but faith helps us to better understand what those qualities mean for us in our lives. The unfamiliar becomes more familiar as we strive to use the limitations of language to articulate the feelings we have in our relationship with God. Despite our inabilities to fully understand God, we can take comfort in God’s unwavering grace and love. The scripture tells us of this love: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.“ (John 3:16-17) Let us celebrate our relationship of love with God, who is and is not all that we can say. Amen.
Sunday
January 7
By Marsh Chapel
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The text of this sermon is not available at this time. We apologize for any inconvenience.
Sunday
October 1
By Marsh Chapel
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Grace and peace to you from God our Creator and our Lord Jesus Christ.
Good morning, Marsh Chapel! It’s a pleasure to preach on this World Communion Sunday. It’s been a very busy start to the school year around here. All of the ministry staff have been working hard to reach out to students, offer our weekly fellowship groups, and establish the kind of care and compassion that religious life offers to the BU campus. Annually, we have two events that take place around this time of year. One is apple picking, which took place yesterday. We shuttle about 40 students to Westward Orchards out in Harvard, MA for a few hours of apple picking, some shopping in the small country store, and of course, fresh apple cider donuts. I heard this year was fantastic – unfortunately I couldn’t make it because I had a little thing called a sermon I needed to finish.
The second event is something you’ve probably heard mentioned many times if you’ve been attending worship here for a while. The event is Spiritual Paint Night. We hold at least one each semester, welcoming students from across the campus for an evening of unstructured creativity. Started by my predecessor and friend, Rev. Brittany Longsdorf, Spiritual Paint Night isn’t like one of those sip and paints or painting classes that you can do at a restaurant or a bar. There isn’t instruction on what to paint. Instead, students are given a canvas and brushes, a palette and paint. They’re told to paint what they want. They’re told to focus on the process of creation rather than the outcome. No “mine isn’t good enough” no expectation that that it has to replicate anyone else’s work. Just time to meet new people, eat some snacks, get creative, and support each other in admiring one another’s efforts.
The unofficial patron saint of these evenings is perhaps the most well-known American artist of the 20th century. It’s estimated that he painted well over 10,000 paintings. Even though his popularity started 40 years ago, most people in the United States, including young people who weren’t born yet when he was alive, can identify him and know what he’s most famous for. His iconic permed hair and denim outfits have been parodied over the years, but not without a profound sense of respect. If you guessed that this artist who has reached sainthood in our eyes is Bob Ross, then you’d be correct. We know Bob Ross for his gentle instructions on the PBS show “The Joy of Painting” which aired from 1983-1994. Each time he’d tell his viewers, who may or may not be completing that week’s painting with him, what tools and paints they would need to have their own creation at the end of each 30 minute episode. He’d then go on to instruct, reminding viewers that the canvas was their own little world in which they got to make the decisions, he would just provide suggestions and instruction on how to make elements. Perhaps most memorable were his “happy little trees” and also his statement that “there are no mistakes, only happy accidents.” His calm demeanor and encouraging words are why, perhaps, he has become an icon of ASMR, autonomous sensory meridian response, a sensory and emotional reaction to certain stimuli. People find pleasure in the calming nature of each episode, sprinkled with his witty “Bob Ross-isms.” He even has his own Twitch channel, an interactive livestreaming service, which plays episodes of The Joy of Painting continuously all day long.
But, did you know that before Bob Ross became America’s gentle painting instructor, he was in the Air Force for 20 years? Not only that, but that one of his main positions in that time was as a drill sergeant. You know, a drill sergeant as in the super mean authority figures within the military who routinely “break down” new recruits, forcing them to do demeaning tasks and constantly yelling? Yes, Bob Ross was one of those. Reflecting on his time in the military, he was quoted as saying:
"I was the guy who makes you scrub the latrine, the guy who makes you make your bed, the guy who screams at you for being late to work," Ross later said. "The job requires you to be a mean, tough person, and I was fed up with it. I promised myself that if I ever got away from it, it wasn't going to be that way anymore."
Bob Ross had a change of mind and heart. It was the military which would introduce him to painting. The backdrop of Alaska, where he was posted, took center stage in many of the paintings he would later create on his TV show. The authority that the position of drill sergeant afforded him, the power he had over others, didn’t mean much to him. In fact, he knew that it wasn’t what he was truly called to being and doing. The military was an occupation, but painting became his life. While the position of drill sergeant offered him authority in a systematic way, he actually gained his authoritative position (as in someone who demonstrates authority) through his painting. That’s why he’s so well known. That’s why people flock to him and his general positive outlook. His change from ordering commands to gentle suggestions, the structured efficiency of military obedience to an opening of creativity for others doesn’t mean that he lost his power or influence, he just modified it to a way that would serve others in a more practical manner.
Authority is a central message in today’s gospel from Matthew. The context for this reading is important in understanding why Jesus’ statements about authority are so jarring for the religious leaders to hear. Jesus has entered into Jerusalem. The people, having heard of his healings and teachings, including embracing the poor and the marginalized, are excited to welcome him. The religious leaders, however, are wary. Today’s story takes place just after Jesus has overturned the moneychangers tables in the temple, showing his disdain for how the religious leaders have allowed this space to become a center for politics and economics rather than a space for prayer and worship. Jesus continues his time in Jerusalem by teaching in the temple, much to the ire of the religious leaders.
They question Jesus. Where does his authority to teach in the temple come from? Jesus, being Jesus, doesn’t simply answer their question. He questions them back and then proceeds to tell them the parable of the two sons. A parable about words and action. A parable about doing the will of the father and merely saying you will do the will of the father. While the religious leaders seem to understand doing the will of God is what should be favored over mere lip-service, they do not fully understand the point that Jesus is trying to make in this story.
What is confusing for the religious leaders is that they consider themselves to be authorities because of their place within society. Their authority derives from human sources, from a title and a position. Because of this, they use their power to affect society. They have influence over the ways things are done. They serve their own self-interests, rather than those who are suffering. While they might be good teachers of religious tenets and laws, they fail to see those teachings through with action. The religious leaders may be in positions of authority within the community, but they lack authoritative action in accordance with the will of God that would confirm that authority. They may say what is right and wrong behavior, but they are not open to any ideas that would challenge their access to maintaining the power they possess. The religious leaders are hypocrites. They say one thing and do another in order to maintain power.
Jesus is not an authority figure that the religious leaders recognize. They don’t understand why he has so much popularity among the people. They don’t understand the way he goes about teaching and healing, reaching out to the poor, sick, and marginalized. If he truly were “the one who comes in the name of the Lord” as the people claimed when he entered Jerusalem, he wouldn’t have shown up on a donkey and he certainly would not be associating himself with prostitutes and tax collectors.
The critical piece that Jesus is trying to teach the religious leaders is not that works are more important than faith (Martin Luther would be rolling over in his grave if I said that) but that the will of God makes itself known through a steady process of revelation and transformation. In fact, Matthew uses the term metamelomai, to change one’s mind, twice in this passage, emphasizing its importance in the parable Jesus uses for instruction. Actually, this term might be more accurately translated “to change what one cares about” or “to change one’s heart.” The first son changes what he cares about and goes into the field to work. The tax collectors and prostitutes changed what they cared about and understood John’s righteousness. For God to be at work in the world, people must maintain an openness, to have their minds changed, in order to discern what life in the kingdom of God calls them to be. Jesus points out that the prostitutes and the tax collectors will enter into the kingdom of heaven sooner than the religious leaders because they have left their minds to be opened to John’s righteousness. That openness in changing one’s mind also changes how they act with others.
Allowing oneself to be open to the will of God requires humility. It requires us to go beyond what we want, what we’re comfortable with, to accept how God can create transformational power in our lives. In our current world, many expressions of belief have become about knowing, not seeking. What I mean by that is that belief has become more about certainty than an openness to new ideas and approaches. The same could be said about the religious authorities and heads of state in Jesus’ time. They were more concerned with maintaining the status quo, in which they held the power, than being challenged into a way of life of mutual support and humility. We see Paul imploring the community in Philippi to be “of a certain mind” together, willing to give up what each of them might be entitled to in the aid of another. They are to find a cruciform way of living, connecting their patterns of thinking with their patterns of living to enable the work of God to be done in the world.
What today’s gospel and the other readings from today point us toward is that we do not have to be perfect in knowing. Instead, we have to be open to seeking God. We should allow God’s presence in our lives transform us, instead of asserting our own way. Jesus’ authority is not human authority, which focuses on the acquisition and maintenance of raw power. Rather Jesus’ authority derives out of humility, taking those who are abandoned by society and restoring them to wholeness through his healing. Jesus’ authority demonstrates a way of life for us that is open to God’s power and truth. If we fail, if we falter, if we don’t get it right on the first try, God will not abandon us. We can explore faith with the knowledge that God will be there for us even if our attempts in understanding are flawed. As Bob Ross would say, “There are no mistakes, only happy accidents.”
How wonderful it is, then, that we find ourselves located in a place of inquiry. A university campus is, perhaps, one of the best places for those who seek. Marsh Chapel stands as a place dedicated to the exploration of religious inquiry, not certainty. Here, we encourage you to ask questions, to be unsure, to be willing to explore. That’s honestly what I love most about my job. Working with young adults provides so many opportunities for openness, a willingness to learn and grow. We aim at providing a safe place to land, as well as a safe place to ask the existential questions – who am I? what is meaningful to me? Where and to what is God calling me? Just as Bob Ross encourages his audience to accept mistakes and be open to their own way of approaching painting, we too provide a place where people can change their minds, explore further, and be creative in their relationship with the Divine. Not because we say they must, but because we provide the support to allow such inquiry to occur.
If we can maintain this openness, a willingness to have our mind’s changed, we may experience the radical transformation that comes in relationship with God. It requires us to get out of our comfort zones and accept that the way we’ve always done things may not always be the only or best way to do them. Authority doesn’t necessarily mean anything if it isn’t connected to action. In fact, authority is best exhibited through action rather than the external imposition of that status. As they say, “Actions speak louder than words.” Let us be active seekers of Divine transformation.
Amen.
-The Rev. Dr. Jessica Chicka, University Chaplain for International Students
Sunday
August 6
By Marsh Chapel
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Good morning, Marsh Chapel! I’m glad to be back in the pulpit again for our summer preaching series as we enter into August (it’s August already, can you believe it?)
We continue our exploration of Matthew and the Costs of Discipleship this morning. Last week we heard about the kingdom of heaven in Matthew’s gospel. Through many metaphors, Jesus describes the kingdom of heaven as a mustard seed, as yeast, as a net catching fish, as a treasure that is hidden. As Rev. Dr. Stephen Cady pointed out to us, in using these metaphors, Jesus is teaching us that the kingdom of heaven can be realized on Earth. Jesus comes to us to teach us how to live and in doing so shows us that love is the way of life. In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus is depicted most strongly as a teacher. He instructs the disciples on how to minister to others. He instructs the world on what the central message of his teaching is, to recognize God’s sovereignty and the importance of love and care of one another.
In this week’s text, Jesus continues his ministry not through parables or metaphor, but through concrete action. Jesus shows us what the kingdom of heaven is actually like using bread and fish. Using compassion and patience. The story of the feeding of the 5,000 is a familiar one to our ears. We’ve encountered it before as one of Jesus’ miracles. In fact, it is the only one of Jesus’ miracles, except for the resurrection, that is recounted in all four Gospels. The writers of the gospels all share this story because it demonstrates a central importance to Jesus’ ministry and the message Jesus is sending to the world through his actions. It also provides many avenues from which we can understand the significance of this story. In fact, some scholars believe that while this may not have been a concrete historical event, its ability to be interpreted through many different lenses offers the opportunity for us to find meaning in a variety of circumstances. Morality, social justice, physical need, and our understanding of the Lord’s supper all influence how we read this text.
For the disciples, this event is a challenge to their understanding of their way of life. The kingdom of heaven pokes its way through into our reality through Jesus’ actions. First, Jesus, although tired and seeking some refuge in time away from the demands of his ministry (something that we should know is necessary to continue to do one’s work well) is drawn back into that ministry by a crowd of people who followed him and the disciples to a deserted place. I’m sure you can relate to how the disciples might have felt in this situation. Who among us has been eager to take a rest, to find a quiet space, only to be drawn back into the world by the needs of another? I know for parents this is particularly true. In this case, he people come, and some of them are sick, so Jesus shows compassion and heals them rather than taking his rest.
There must have been many sick people, because Jesus’ healing work goes into the evening. The disciples, not necessarily out of a desire to get rid of the crowd, but perhaps out of concern for their ability to find food and shelter, ask Jesus to send the crowd away. They are, after all, in a deserted area and while the disciples know they have food for themselves, the likelihood that others have brought food or will be able to find anything to eat where they are is slim. It makes sense then, to let them go back to where they can have food. Jesus’ response to them is almost as if their request doesn’t make any sense. He tells the disciples to feed them, knowing they only have five loaves of bread and two fish.
Now, nowhere in this gospel reading does it say that Jesus somehow makes piles of food. It tells us that he blesses and breaks the bread, but he leaves it up to the disciples to distribute the food to those in need of a meal. While they do so, they find that there are not running out, but that there is enough food for all. So much so that there is bread to spare at the end. Everyone is able to eat until they are full, something that might have been a rarity for the marginalized members of that society. Because the food doesn’t appear suddenly in a big pile, there isn’t some moment where the crowd is amazed by what is happening or in awe of what takes place. Instead, this miracle is happening in real time as both the disciples and the crowd realize that there is more than enough for everyone.
The feeding of the more than 5000 (remember, 5000 was only the number of the men in attendance, we’re told there were also women and children present as well) gives a glimpse of the kingdom of heaven. In the moment when it appears that there is no solution to meeting the basic needs of the people in his presence, Jesus shows that in the kingdom of heaven there is more than enough for all. Trusting in God, having faith in God, allows for this miraculous event to happen. In moments of challenge, Jesus teaches us to discern what’s possible when we look at the world with eyes that are not yet adjusted to the kingdom of heaven.
There are two examples of challenge in our current contexts that tie into today’s gospel nicely, even if at the outset they seem like two very different problems.
One example of how we might see today’s gospel applied to our lives is how we conceive of the church (that’s Church with a big “C” – inclusive of all Christianity) in today’s world. There’s a lot of conversation about what the future of the Church will look like these days. As protestant denominations continue to see a decline in membership and individual congregations face the challenges of limited funds, aging buildings, and shrinking numbers, the options available are, in a word, hard. Some congregations, lacking funds and people, have no choice but to close. Others go through the process of merging with one or two other congregations who share life in ministry together. Most places are having a hard time envisioning what the future will bring for them. The studies and research on religious affiliation aren’t encouraging, either. Younger generations aren’t as actively involved in religious organizations as older generations had been at their age. While younger generations may be willing to identify as spiritual, but not religious, they aren’t actively participating in communities of faith in the same ways as previous generations.
Another concerning aspect of our current global situation is the level of food insecurity found around the world. We see it in our own country and even in our own communities. With inflation increasing the prices of everything, including basic needs like food, food insecurity is on the rise. The latest data from the USDA which is from 2021 indicates that 10.2 % of the population is food insecure with 3.8% having very low food security. These statistics are higher for households with children, those living in metropolitan areas, for black and persons of color households, and for those headed by a single woman.1 Globally, international markets affect the distribution of food to the point that it becomes scarce. African countries in particular share the burden of the most food insecurity.2 The frustrating aspect of all these cases of food insecurity is not that there isn’t enough food to go around to feed the world’s population. No, in fact, we have more than enough food. Global markets and systems which see food as a good rather than a human need prevent access through pricing and distribution.
Both cases of the future of the church and global food insecurity are just two examples of challenges that feel like desperate situations in our current world. While there is a fear of “not having enough” in both situations – either young people to carry on congregational life or “enough” food to go around for those in need – the reality is that there is enough. Today’s gospel teaches us that what might feel like a hopeless situation actually calls on us to live into the kingdom of heaven mentality that Jesus encourages the disciples to experience. Perhaps the church, as it is now, is in the process of changing and in a place where it needs to more actively meet the needs of those marginalized or who have felt excluded. Some of these communities already exist, and their impact is greatly felt by the surrounding community and those whom the church may not usually reach. While we might not be able to affect change on a global level when it comes to food insecurity, there are opportunities to engage the local community in efforts to ease the stress of food insecurity for all.
One such opportunity which ties together both of these issues in a movement within Mainline Protestant denominations within the past 10-15 years. Recently, upon the suggestion of a graduate student here at Marsh Chapel, I read the book We Will Feast by Kendall Vanderslice. In it, Vanderslice, a gastronomist who studied here at BU, explores the dinner church movement as an alternative church experience which centers worship around a meal that involves the Eucharist. Vanderslice also has a keen interest in theology, most recently identifying within the Episcopal/Anglican tradition, but also having experienced other types of worship throughout her life. In her words, her book “explores what happens when we eat together as an act of worship,” through various case studies of churches who incorporate a meal as part of their liturgy (21). As a gastronomy student, she was interested in seeing how food was intertwined with faith and how new communities were forming with feeding people as part of their goals. As she states “..in God’s love for the beloved creation God called it good, and in the narrative that continues through Jesus, humanity received a ministry of meals.” (3) Eating, or feasting, is central to the church’s history, including in today’s gospel.
Vanderslice’s case studies include a variety of congregations – some located in storefronts in urban centers, welcoming all who want a meal and community to join in, and some in actual gardens, where the emphasis on connecting the land and what it produces becomes a bigger aspect of the meal. Instead of the standard stock liturgy she experienced in her regular congregation, she was welcomed into communities which shared the responsibilities of preparing and eating a meal together while also having an opportunity to hear scripture and participate in communion. Every aspect of the meal came from the community – from the bakers who made the bread from scratch to those who would come to set the tables and prepare the food, to those who would cleanup afterward. People were encouraged to have conversation and to share in the intimate act of eating with one another. In Vanderslice’s words “something powerful happens at the table.” (4) People go from strangers to opening up to each other in conversation and taking the time to be fully present to one another during the meal. They share in the bread. They serve each other the wine or grape juice. They provide sustenance, physically, socially, and spiritually. As relationships form, divisions that may have previously existed begin to dissolve and the body of Christ becomes one again.
Furthermore, dinner church changes the way in which one thinks about the eucharist. Eating is a central part of Jesus ministry; It is also a central part of our own worship. Remember that in today’s gospel, we encounter the familiar scene of Jesus blessing the bread and breaking it, which will be echoed in the narrative of the last supper. Tying this act to our own celebration of the eucharist reminds us that we are not only spiritually fulfilled when we come to the table, but that we also have a responsibility to show compassion and care to others to make sure that they are physically filled and able to live full lives.
Will every community benefit from hosting dinner church? No, of course not. Vanderslice herself does not think that all churches would be better off if they became dinner churches. But, she tempers this opinion with a statement:
“I do, however, believe that every church and every Christian should understand the power of food and should expand their vision of what Jesus intended when asking his followers to eat and drink in remembrance of him. And I do believe these examples of worship around the table should inspire thoughtful reflection about who feels welcome or unwelcome in our churches, whom we see and whom we fail to see, who leaves lonely and who leaves grounded in community.” (166)
Jesus’ ministry is steeped in feeding and taking care of those in need. In so much of our holy scripture, God comes to people in moments of challenge through feeding – to the Israelites when they were in the desert longing for food with Moses, to the five thousand in the wilderness with Jesus, to the table at the last supper, when Jesus instructs his disciples to feed others just as he is feeding them.
Today we will celebrate the Eucharist with one another. As we do, I urge you to think about what it means when Jesus tells us to “do this in remembrance of me.” While we are spiritually fed, how can we aid others in being spiritually, socially, and physically fed? Jesus instructs us that when we have some, we should be willing to share with all. That is what the kingdom of heaven is like.
“Jesus said to them, ‘They need not go away; you give them something to eat.’”
Amen.
-The Rev. Dr. Jessica Chicka, University Chaplain for International Students
Sunday
July 2
By Marsh Chapel
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-The Rev. Dr. Jessica Chicka, University Chaplain for International Students
Sunday
May 14
By Marsh Chapel
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Sunday
April 23
By Marsh Chapel
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Good morning! It is good to be with you again on this Sunday filled with April showers (or downpours as the case may be).
We live in an era during which most of our lives are mediated through screens. We order goods, interact with others, and even learn new skills from our computers, smartphones, and the like. Person-to-person interaction might be more limited than any other time in history – even transactions that take place in person can be mediated through an app on your phone. I, for one, am an avid user of the Dunkin’ app to get my coffee on the go, limiting my interaction with others to only having to go into the store to pick up my beverage and leave.
One thing about having so much of life distilled to screens is that it can distort your expectations. People can photoshop images to make themselves look completely different. Businesses can display an item claiming certain qualities that are not, in fact, true. Step-by-step tutorials may overestimate your abilities, or have unclear directions, leading to undesirable outcomes. For example, you might be familiar with the idea of Pinterest Fails, or the meme of “Expectation vs. Reality” or “what I ordered vs. what I got” in which people display the way something was supposed to look or turn out and then how it actually appeared. It’s such a popular concept that there’s a whole Netflix series, “Nailed it” that features armature competitors attempting to recreate professional-level baked goods. Personally, I can’t watch that kind of show without cringing, but a lot of people enjoy watching it. The same expectation vs. reality distress is realized through online ordering. A photo online doesn’t necessarily match the item in reality. The memes associated with this phenomenon are meant to evoke a laugh – the reality is so unlike the picture-perfect expectation image that you have to wonder what went wrong in the manufacturing process; or how someone could possibly sell something so unlike the product they are advertising. In any case, people set their expectations high and are disappointed when they are not met.
As we live into this Easter season, we are greeted with the familiar stories of Jesus’ appearances. We know how these stories go, and what to expect from Jesus and those he is revealed to. First to Mary at the tomb, who did not recognize Jesus until he said her name. Then, in last week’s gospel, Jesus appeared to the disciples in the room in which they were hiding on the evening of his resurrection. Thomas at first missed out and then witnessed the resurrected Christ after his friends told him about Jesus’ return. Here again this week, we return to the day of resurrection. Cleopas and the other disciple are walking the road to Emmaus, deep in conversation about the topic of the day, Jesus’ death at the hands of the authorities.
Walking, whether to get somewhere or for pleasure, requires time. For many, in today’s world, it seems like an inefficient way to get around. However, walking as a means of transportation has some benefits to it, aside from improving your health. It's amazing what kinds of conversations you can have on a walk with someone. Something about the constantly changing background, the movement of your body, the physical closeness without touching, and perhaps even the ability to not have to look someone in the eye as you speak allows for conversations to flow. It seems easier in the movement of the moment to share plans and expectations, to discuss the goings-on of the day and the frustrations, the joys, to share in a moment with someone.
During their walk, the disciples encounter a stranger who we know to be Jesus. Surprised that this person has not heard of the major news of the day – Jesus’ death and resurrection – they proceed to not only narrate what happened but to share their hopes, their expectations, of what Jesus as the Messiah would have meant to them. In verse 21 we hear their expectations “But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place.” They understand that Jesus was to be a redeemer. That he was to be raised on the third day, as he had promised. But perhaps their expectations of what a redeemer should look like, what the process of redemption would be, wasn’t in line with what the reality of Jesus’ death and resurrection. There was no sudden transformation, no complete shift in reality that upended the order of things. Instead, life went on as it had, or at least it felt that way to them. There wasn’t any proof that Jesus had actually risen from the dead, at least not any that they fully trusted (the women did see him, but the disciples didn’t seem to trust their account…which is a whole other sermon). Their hopes were dashed. They retreated from Jerusalem back to Emmaus.
Jesus, meanwhile, continues to do what he has always done in his ministry. He teaches. He interprets the scriptures for them from the time of Moses so that they might come closer to understanding what God is doing through Jesus. Much like preachers of today, Jesus is helping to clarify the scriptures for his audience, even if they don’t fully understand the message. There are many times when we might feel as though the scripture is too dense for our understanding. That the word alone may not be enough for us to understand God’s nature. The good news is that Jesus meets us where we are and reveals God’s nature to us even if we are do not fully understand. Jesus takes the time to teach the two disciples on the road to Emmaus what the meaning of the scriptures are in regards to his own presence on earth. He does not require them to enter a special location, to come to him, to offer something for this knowledge. Instead, he shows up walking alongside them.
Like so many times throughout the scriptures, these disciples continue to miss the point of what they have learned and observed throughout Jesus’ ministry. They do not sense that he is the person they had come to know through his teachings and actions throughout the land. They are unaware as to the reality of the situation. The gospel’s retelling of this encounter tracks with how Jesus is presented in Luke – never quite what anyone is expecting. Upending and reversing the expectations of what a teacher and a leader should do and be for others.
The disciples who are walking along with Jesus, hearing him speak and interpret the scriptures with regard to himself, are so caught up in what they think the Messiah should have been or should have appeared to be that they fail to see what is around them. It is only after they have their eyes spiritually opened during the breaking of the bread that they understand who Jesus is and that he is standing right in front of them. Just as quickly, he disappears, not giving them a chance to engage with the risen Christ. In their reflection afterward, the comment on how they felt when Jesus was in conversation with them on their walk. They felt something, a burning in their hearts, but ignored that feeling because it didn’t align with what they were expecting. Sometimes our physical intuition guides us toward the direction of what might not be reasonable, but what is spiritually significant.
Why is it the breaking of the bread that helps them finally fully understand who Jesus is? Now, we may automatically connect Jesus breaking the bread with our own ritual acts – the familiarity of Holy Communion. An experience in which we expect to feel a closeness to Christ. It’s unlikely that these disciples would have been at the last supper – at the end of this scripture passage they return to the eleven who, while in hiding, had been a part of that meal. Cleopas and the other disciple would not have made the connection with Jesus’ words to the disciples about the bread and wine having significance after Jesus’ death. In this circumstance, the breaking of bread was an everyday occurrence at a meal. It is in the familiar and mundane that Jesus is revealed for who he is. The combination of the hearing the scripture explained and the physical act of the bread being broken provides the basic sacramental theology essential to worship. Jesus comes to us not in some grand and glorious fashion, but in the basic practices that constitute everyday life. Walking, talking, eating. Christ comes to us not in some glorious triumphant return, but in a place least expected. Alongside us, at the table.
This may lead us to question: where are we encountering Jesus? How is God present to us today? What are our expectations about our relationship with God?
As you probably know, yesterday was Earth Day. A day when we are encouraged to think about our care for the Earth. Many people take time to volunteer in cleanup events, like the one hosted along the Charles River each year. Others take time to educate themselves about their local flora and fauna, or at least spend some part of the day outside. We are often entreated to reflect on the beauty of the Earth, on pristine wilderness. Protection of nature seems to be “out there,” far away from our lives. In church, we are reminded to be good stewards of creation, especially on this day. I mean, if we can celebrate the earth on this one day a year, we’re covered, right?
You know I don’t believe that. I suspect many of you don’t believe that either. Many of us recognize the challenges that climate change is already creating in our country and around the world. Take for instance, the record rainfall in California in the past few months. Or the flooding in Fort Lauderdale that dropped over two feet of rain in a twenty-four hour period. Or the drought conditions in Northern Italy. Our climate and weather patterns are already shifting. Climate change is no longer a future problem; it is a now problem. But it is so overwhelming, we might imagine that if we continue to go along with our everyday patterns of behavior, we won’t actually have to face the consequences.
For example, in a poll done in 2021 by the Yale program on Climate Change Communication, an estimated 72% of Americans believed that climate change, or global warming, is happening. However, when asked if global warming would harm them personally, only 47% agreed. So it’s happening, but it won’t bother me. It will however bother other people, like other U.S. citizens (59% agreed to that statement), and those in developing countries (68% agreed to that statement).1 Many believe that it is too late for them to have an impact on climate change – younger generations have more energy and excitement around the issue, so therefore they will be the ones who will “figure it out.” The expectation is that climate change, although a reality, will not be something we need to personally contend with.
The truth is, because we are all connected to the earth and its systems, we will feel the effects of climate change. It will cause prices to increase on goods due to floods or droughts in food-producing regions. Our weather patterns will also change, creating extremes in heat and cold. While many of us who are not on the margins of society may feel that we can easily adapt to these changes, those with fewer resources will bear the brunt. And although we might hope that the earth might heal itself or that other people are going to solve the problem, we must face the fact that we have to do something. Human beings are the biggest problem. We are also a part, not separate from the creation.
Our ways of life, particularly in the developed world, do not encourage us to change our behaviors in light of climate change. Much like the disciples who have an expectation of what Jesus’ return and redemption will look like based on their own experiences and status quo ways of thinking, we have a hard time envisioning a world outside of our current experience. Most people are not willing to give up the conveniences that we have become accustomed to in modern society. If you remember back to the beginning of this sermon, I, too, enjoy the convenience of picking up a cup of coffee that comes in a disposable container from time to time. Change, especially drastic change, is scary, and the realities of climate change are so overwhelming that we’d rather not think about it.
I posit to you that the anxiety we experience about climate change is much like the burning the disciples experienced when they heard Jesus teaching. We sense within our bodies that we should be reacting or acting to the situation, we just aren’t sure what that is, so we avoid it and pretend as though it isn’t there. We also may feel isolated in those feelings. However, we are not alone in our fears. There are many others around us who share these same feelings. While the future may not be what we expected, there is possibility of renewal and resurrection. We may be hoping for some obvious answer to the problems of climate change that will fix everything quickly without demanding too much of our time and energy, but in actuality the answers might just be standing right in front of us. We might just have to slow down, unplug, and fully sense the world around us as a part of us. Go for a walk. Have a conversation. Learn something new. Share a meal. Feel connected.
In an article in the New York Times from January of this year, the well known environmentalist and journalist Bill McKibben was interviewed with a young climate activist, Xiye Bastida, about the future of the climate movement. The point of the article was to bring together the experiences of over 30 years of activism through McKibben with the growing climate interests of Gen Z represented by 20 year old Bastida. Both noted that the single most important thing that is needed in combatting climate change is hope that is grounded in action. Bastida reflected on what she sees to be her purpose in leading activism at such a young age. She states:
“I love this quote that says the way that you spend your life is the way that you spend your days. Every single choice that you make builds up everything about your legacy, and who you are, and the purpose that you’ve put in your life. So I know that every single day I have agency. And I know it’s the simplest concept that the future is made of our present actions. But when we really think about it, we’re not just living our lives; we can actually shape the way in which other lives are lived. That is a responsibility that I have taken. And I want my life to have been a joyous life, so I am modeling the world that I want to see.”2
It's true that this is a simple idea – the things we do today will shape our future. The attitude of not just living our lives but realizing that we have agency to shape the kind of world we live in makes sense. Expanding that idea beyond the self if what is needed for the future of our planet, however. It is in our attitudes and actions every day that can lead us to effective change.
Through Jesus’ death and resurrection we know that the impossible is possible. Not only that, we know that God is present to us in the most unexpected of places, even death on a cross. If we are open to moments of connection with others, including the world that we are a part of, we embody the risen Christ. When we respect the creation, we enact the love shown to us through God. Resurrection is not an escape from this life to some other existence. It is the fulfillment of life leading to the full redemption of the entire cosmos. Resurrection encourages us to be in community, to share the good news, to break bread with one another and listen fully to how we can be in service to each other, including the earth. It may not be what we expected, but it is what we need.
Amen.
-The Rev. Dr. Jessica Chicka, University Chaplain for International Students
Marsh Chapel Sunday ServicesNovember 6, 2008