The rhythm of the liturgical year invites our faith consciousness to pay attention to the ways that God has, is, and will forever be moving in our midst. In each season, we listen to the biblical stories of how God's light and love transform individuals and communities. We re-discover the places where moments of hospitality, hope, love, resurrection, and belonging abound. We pray for God's grace to help us keep watch for the remarkable in the ordinary. So, during the season after Pentecost we journey together in wondering, one more time, what it means to be the church in a world so desperately in need of love and reconciliation. We are reminded that the Spirit of love and light is within us, around us, and working through us. We are God's Gospel people who radiate love and practice reconciliation.
We are to be people who listen for God in the ordinary with wild, hopeful hearts.
So, what does it mean to be the church in a society that is increasingly anxious, distracted, isolated, and divided? What does it mean to be the church in a world that is impoverished and threatens the earth?
A little girl helped me chip away at a possible answer.
She sat comfortable on the airport floor, legs straight out, back against the wall. Her blonde curly hair tossed back and forth as she giggled, watching her mother's face appear and disappear behind a magazine. She was sitting close enough to me that I heard her raspy little voice say, "Momma, I'm hungry. Fish please?"
She waited as her mother reached into her side bag and pulled out a small bag of goldfish crackers. "Fishes!" the little girl said. She took one of the orange, salty treats and held it in her hand. The goldfish cracker was almost as big as her entire palm. She put one into her mouth, saying once more, "Fishes!"
And then something remarkable occurred. She came to me, grabbed my hand, turned it over so that it was palm up, took a goldfish, and placed it in my hand. "Fishes!" she squealed, her big blue eyes ablaze with God's dream.
"Thank you,” I said as we smiled at one another. The saltiness of the cracker struck my tongue as poignantly as our port wine on Sunday morning.
I watched as she shared her fishes until she had none left in her bag. Many were fed that day from God's love, kindness, and hospitality shining through the little girl.
God's dream for us, as the church, looks a lot like sharing our gold fishes.
