Proper 12 (Father Fred)

     One of the great blessings of being in ministry for my wife, Linda and me, is that we’ve lived in several different parts of the United States.  When I was a Methodist minister, I had a parish in Jackson Center, Ohio.  Once I became an Episcopalian, I served for a year at St. Boniface, Mequon, Wisconsin, as a Seminarian Assistant. After that year of seminary graduate work, I was a curate at Saint Mark’s Church in Arlington, Texas, and then later on the Rector of St. Andrew’s in Grand Prairie, Texas. After Grand Prairie, we went to Grace Church in Monroe, Louisiana, and after Monroe, we went to Sarasota, Florida, where I had my longest term as Rector, 26 years, at Church of the Redeemer. After I retired, I was Interim Rector of St. John’s Church in Tampa. And now, of course, we are at Emmanuel Memorial, where I am once again the Interim Rector.

    We have loved every parish, and every parish was different in one way or another. Each of the parishes has been relatively “high“ liturgically, and each of them was a little higher after I got there!

    And each of them were fairly social places. They loved the worship of the church, but they also loved getting together and enjoying a good meal and socializing.

    People tell me I have a fairly healthy appetite, some might even say robust. I’m glad I do, because that makes eating pleasurable.  There may be something circular in that reasoning, but I’m not going to worry about it!  And I have to say that the most unusual place we lived with respect to cuisine was Louisiana.  There’s a wonderful point of contact between my experience in Louisiana and the Parable of the Mustard Seed which we heard in the Gospel this morning.

    When we first moved to Louisiana, I heard that all Louisiana recipes start out with the same five word sentence: “First you make a roux.” That certainly is how gumbo is made, and gumbo has an interesting history.  Back when New Orleans was getting established, the wealthy families who moved there brought their French chefs with them.  Many of the ingredients with which these chefs had learned to cook were not available in New Orleans, so they had to improvise, using ingredients that were native to their new surroundings. One of the ingredients they discovered was okra. They wanted to make bouillabaisse, but they had to improvise, and the new ingredient they used was okra.

    Okra has an interesting history as well. That history is really the reason I’m talking about gumbo this morning. Okra isn’t native to Louisiana, but to Africa. The black women who were taken to New Orleans from Africa as slaves, hid okra seeds in their hair, so that they could plant them in their new home.  The fruit of this African plant is what the New Orleans French chefs used to make a creole version of bouillabaisse called gumbo. Small okra seeds brought in faith from Africa by black slave women brought about a delicacy now known around the world. If God had chosen Louisiana for the setting of the incarnation, I’m sure we would have a parable or two about okra, rues, and gumbo.

    Instead of a parable about okra seeds, what we have is one about a mustard seed. “The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed which a man took and sowed in his field; it is the smallest of all seeds, but when it has grown, it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.” The things of faith may seem small, even insignificant, but actually produce a life that is richer and more abundant than anything else in life.

    Our Lord may have told this parable to encourage his disciples concerning the growth of the Church. After the resurrection, as they spread the Gospel, they would encounter systematic and determined opposition. Jesus warns them that they would suffer persecution, and even martyrdom for his sake. He was encouraging his disciples not to let those who opposed them, those who are much bigger and stronger, to cause the disciples to think that their cause was hopeless. At one level, the parable of the mustard seed is a prophecy that the seed God planted in Bethlehem 2000 years ago would indeed become an organism that would reach to the ends of the earth, transforming the lives of people in countless generations.

    Yet there’s another level of meaning in the parable. It’s what you and I probably think of first when we hear of the tiniest of seeds becoming the largest of plants. It has to do with our faith. It’s the tiniest of seeds because the things of faith are basically very simple. Say your prayers, read your Bible, go to church on Sunday, forgive those who wrong you, help the needy. Do the simple things of faith, things that taken separately look very small and insignificant, and eventually that faith will be the most meaningful, most fulfilling, most important aspect of your life. Furthermore, your life will become so attractive that others will find peace and refreshment just being around you, not because of any particular thing that you do, but because of who you have become. For in the process, God has made a dwelling in you.

    God has a purpose for you and me in calling us to be a part of his Church. We must never think that our role in the Body of Christ is insignificant for the growth of the kingdom of God. We’re a part of the Church, and specifically, we are a part of Emmanuel Memorial, for a purpose. Through prayer and through talking with other Christians, we discern as best we can what that purpose is, and then we exercise that ministry, by the grace of God, and to the best of our ability—doing all to the glory of God.

    And all the while, we continue to do the simple things of faith, for those things are what provide a foundation for an effective ministry. God wants our life of faith to be like a good gumbo, with all the ingredients working together to make for a rich, rewarding life.












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