Matthew 15:29-39

You will know how old I really am when I tell you that my childhood and the advent of television coincided. I can well remember the day my Navy Officer Dad came home from the commissary proudly carrying our first television set. The box was small enough to carry easily, the screen only 13 inches (diagonally) and the picture black and white - imagine! My favorite shows were "Howdy Doody" and the Saturday morning westerns especially "The Lone Ranger". As I got a bit older we watched TV as a family on Sunday evening, first "The Lawrence Welk Show" and then a show that opened up a whole new world for me - the world of history and imagination.

For 5 years in the 50's Walter Cronkite hosted a show called "You Are There". Network correspondents told historical stories as if they were being televised live, much like today's embedded reporters. Professional actors portrayed the drama, frequently enhanced with newsreel footage. It actually felt like I was there at the Salem Witch Trials, the deaths of Socrates and Joan of Arc, or the Crisis of Galileo. It made history real for me. Cronkite began and ended each segment with these words "Today is (the date being discussed), it is a day like all days except You Are There! On an NPR show celebrating 50 years of television, Walter Cronkite said "The further back into history we went the more the show dealt with contemporary problems."

I find the same to be true of Scripture, and often wonder what it would really have been like to be there - to witness the miracles and hear the words of Jesus. And so, I invite you to explore in a new way our reading for today from the Gospel of Matthew. C.S. Lewis says that when we are baptized, so is our imagination. I ask you to put on your cloak of imagination and join me as I imagine what it might have been like to be a woman in the crowd that day. Now in no way, am I being sexist about this. It's just that it is a little difficult for me to imagine myself a man. (Scarf)

I am an old woman now, but I want to tell you about a very special day in the middle years of my life. My husband and I lived with his family, as was the custom, in the small family home he and his older brother had inherited when their father 'went to sleep with the ancestors'. It was in a small farming village in the grasslands east of the mountains. Our daughters had married men from neighboring villages. We missed them, but it was only a short walk to visit, and we were glad they were happy. My husband and his brother worked the small plot of land left to them and raised a few animals, but it had not been a good year - very dry for several seasons now. We were scraping the bottom of the grain barrel and wondering where food would come from until the next harvest. There was no grain or even a spare goat to trade.

To make bad matters worse, my brother-in-laws family was still growing - two sons and their wives and an ever increasing number of children. It was nice to have other women to share the work, but oh, it was crowded. My husband and I had begun to feel we were taking up space and food that the little ones needed. We weren't old enough to go live with our daughters. We didn't know what to do, and times were becoming more difficult with each passing day. We often slept on the roof in order to get a little peace. It was not a happy time.

On this particular day, there was no work to be done in the fields. Everything was drying up. The bread was baked for the day and the house work done. The nephews were tending the animals. My husband and I were feeling useless and discouraged. Neighbors came by and with excitement told us they had heard more wild stories about this Rabbi, Jesus. He and his disciples had been up in the mountains since yesterday, healing the sick and teaching. Did we want to walk with them to see what was going on? Why not? We didn't have anything else to do and these stories about Jesus were becoming more curious all the time. We packed food and an extra cloak and set off. Oh, it was so good to be away from the crowded house, to feel the wind in our faces, walk up into the mountains where it was still green and there were streams of fresh water.

It was not hard to know when we got to the right place - there were lots of people gathered - people say today some 4,000 men alone. I'm not a good judge of numbers, and I think like fish stories, the size might have grown with the telling, but there were lots of people bringing with them the lame, the maimed, the blind, and the mute. They brought them to Jesus and one after the other he healed them. It was amazing! I wouldn't have believed it had I not been there. Then Jesus would sit down with small groups of people, in the manner of a Rabbi, and teach about the holy one and a new way of life. People were singing psalms and praising God. We shared stories of what had happened with one another, because we couldn’t always see what was going on or hear very well. It was an exciting night around the campfires.

The next day this Jesus came close to us. He seemed to touch each person present in a special way. We didn't ask for anything, but he seemed to know what we needed. His eyes were full of compassion as he placed his hands on our shoulders and simply said "Be of good cheer. Do not be afraid. Look how my Father cares for the birds and animals. He will care for you too." We didn't understand then, but this love and these words would change our whole lives. We felt so peaceful, or perhaps we were just hungry because our food was gone. About that time, Jesus had the disciples collect what food the people had with them - surely not enough for everyone. He blessed it and broke it and they began handing it out. We were given food, even though we had nothing left to contribute, and there was food to put in our bags for the trip home. What an incredible 24 hours this had been! Because this man had such compassion on us, we could see hope and possibility for the future. We no longer felt so worthless, because he cared and he came to us where we were. Surely this Rabbi Jesus must be the promised Messiah to do such things.

Oh, and something else happened during that trip. We had a bit of a reunion around the campfire with my cousin who lives in Capernaum. We hadn't seen each other since before marriage, but we knew one another right away. What fun we had catching up on all the family! He is a prosperous shopkeeper, selling goods to those traveling the trade routes. I remembered well how beautiful the land of my childhood had been by the Sea of Galilee. Before we left he found us again and asked us if we would be interested in coming to Capernaum to help in the shop. He was too busy and hoping to slow down a bit, and there was a small living quarter attached to the shop where we could live. What an answer to our prayers! We said yes, and our lives have never been the same. We walked home with hope in our hearts, and a new life ahead of us.

It isn't something often done, but we picked up and moved. We can still walk to visit our family in the lowlands occasionally. We do so as often as we can, because now there are grandchildren of our own. In Capernaum we found a group of people who had seen this Jesus many times and come to believe that he was truly the long-awaited Messiah. After those dark days of the crucifixion and then the excitement of the resurrection, we knew it to be true and now call ourselves 'people of the way'. We are so close, sharing the stories of Jesus and frequently eating together. Though Jesus is no longer with us in the world, we know his Spirit is with us when we gather. We work together to help the less fortunate. I bake and sew for the widows and orphans. We work hard and we have all that we need. Life is not easy, but it is good. (Remove scarf)

As the words of this story came to me, I was aware that they echo my story and your stories. These stories are the very reason people frequent our churches, and the very reason we find ourselves in this place at this time in history. These and many other stories inform us that the Jesus who walked the hills of Galilee 2,000 years ago, healing and feeding God's people, still lives and walks the streets of our cities, the corridors and classrooms of this campus, the rooms of our homes and the chambers of our hearts. This Jesus of compassion still longs to extend God's healing and nurturing love to each of us, wherever we may be on our journey of faith. And we are challenged each day to share that love and compassion with one another.

What about those who don't darken the door of our churches? We live in a world that is mute - with voices stilled by a sense of powerlessness about such huge issues as immigration, poverty and the death penalty. We must speak with voices made clear and loud by the power of Holy Spirit. We live in a world that is maimed by pollution and ravaged by HIV-AIDS. And we have a glimpse of the reality that we can be made whole, restored to God's glory and purpose and help the world live into a Kingdom where abundance is possible for all. We live in a world that is lame, all too often crippled by doubt, despair, cynicism and hopelessness. And yet we have found a way to walk in light and hope because of the compassion and life of Jesus. We live in a world that is blind to God's purposes and intentions for creation. We have found a vision of goodness, beauty and truth in the persons of the Trinity. We are invited to work with that Trinity towards a new vision for creation and the restoration of relationships.

God forbid that there should ever be a day of our lives in which we are so caught up in ourselves, our papers and projects, the affairs of daily living, our worries about GOE's and our futures, that we forget to share our stories with each other and the world around us, or extend the same compassion we know to each person in this hurting and hungry world. We learn from history - our scriptures and our tradition - and we give special thanks today for the vision and persistence of Samuel Seabury who made it possible for the Episcopal Church to flourish on this continent. We dream of the future and the contributions we might make to that church. And yet we are aware that the only time we hold in our hands is the present - this hour, this day. "Today is November 14th, 2007. It is a day like all days, except you are there."