Does God See Us as an Ant Colony? The 8th Sunday after Pentecost 2025

The 8th Sunday after Pentecost 2025

Texts: Ecclesiastes 1:2, 12-14; 2:18-23; Colossians 3:1-11; Luke 12;13-21

The Reverend Marjorie Bevans

Watch the service and listen to the sermon on Youtube.

This morning we have a rare lesson from Ecclesiastes, so it might be helpful to know a little about the book itself before looking at the lesson. The name Ecclesiastes comes from the Hebrew word Qoholoth meaning ‘assembly’. The same word in Greek is ‘ecclesia’, which gives us the name Ecclesiastes. It is not a sermon, but seems to be a teaching for a gathering of Jewish people.

It is a Jewish book, sometimes attributed to King Solomon, and so the book is considered to be one of the works of wisdom in the Hebrew Bible. It most likely dates from around 300 b.c.

The great theme of the book is vanity, and our lesson for this morning is one of the key passages in the whole book. The term ‘vanity of vanities’ is a Hebrew form of a superlative. ‘Vanity of vanities’ therefore means ‘utter vanity.’

Vanity is anything that is light, airy, floating, transitory, feathery, or shifting. Being vain is like chasing a bubble. It’s appearance attracts a child, but it cannot be possessed. When touched, it pops. It is like a mirage in the desert. We cannot put our ultimate trust in vanity, yet many do.

All three lessons this morning suggest putting our trust in God, not the things of creation. In the first lesson everything for which we toil and enjoy cannot be our ultimate goal. To collect things for our sustenance gives a false sense of security, so why worry so much about stuff. We are to rely ultimately on God. This is not to say we are not to be concerned at all about the things which sustain us, because we were also created to be stewards of creation and to use the things of creation. They just cannot become our ultimate concern.

In his letter to the Colossians, Paul declares to that early Christian community, that since they have been raised with Christ, they are no longer to seek the things of the world, but the things that are above where Christ is. The old ways of life—anger, wrath, malice, slander, deception and abusive language must pass away if one is to be truly renewed in Christ. The attraction of earthly things, with which these vices are associated, is not the way of life or the goal of life for a Christian. And this applies to all Christians equally whether slave or free, Greek or Jew, rich or poor. God does not consider station in life, or the superficial—skin color, ethnicity, or the external appearance of anyone, but only what is in the heart and mind of someone. We may fool one another about what is in our hearts and minds, but we do not fool God.

In the Gospel lesson Jesus warns the people about greed of all kinds. The rich man who had the abundant harvest built new barns to keep it so that he could have it and live off it for years. As a kid who grew up on a farm, I’ve always thought the idea was a little ridiculous anyway, because most crops do not keep that long. They will spoil, mice will get into them. But the rich men thought he would have life easy for a few years.

There are different kinds of greed—being overly concerned with getting our needs met—worrying, wanting to have or possess something that is not ours—coveting, when more and more is never enough—hoarding, the competitive desire to have more than we truly need in order to best someone. They used to call it ‘keeping up with the Jones’.

We have heard the call of God at St. Michael’s to help needy people where we can through our outreach ministries. We participate in the distribution of food, we gather the things children need for school, we support a Christian school in Guatemala, and we offer scholarships to students from poor families. We recognize the importance of sustenance and encouraging children to have a brighter future through education.

In my last parish we developed an important outreach ministry to children. We called it The Neighborhood Academy. Children from families living around the church came together on Saturdays to meet adults who had a profession, to interview them and learn from them, so they could dream and plan for their future as adults. The children met firefighters, nurses, police officers, musicians, doctors, chefs, teachers, and EMT’s. They found out what it takes to have a profession—things like getting up in the morning and going to school or work, being honest and reliable, setting goals, working hard, being focused and determined. They learned the satisfaction that can come from accomplishing something. We warned our guest professionals that the children would ask them about money, how much they earned, so they should be prepared to tell the children. Coming from poor families, in which the adults did not work, the children often did want to know about this important detail.

Yet, we welcomed a lot of children whose basic needs were going unmet, so we taught them how to prepare a basic meal for themselves, like how to heat a can of soup, make a grilled cheese sandwich, how to scramble an egg. We gave them food to take home. We helped their families stay in their homes, we clothed them, paid their utilities when needed. Through our rummage sale ministry were able to give families everything they needed for their household.

However, sometimes out of their neediness, some of the children would become a little greedy. They would loudly claim that someone got more than their fair share. They wanted more and more to take home.

Perhaps we had inadvertently created in them the expectation that having enough food and stuff would make them feel safe and secure. We wanted them to have what they needed, but did they know that we did this out of love? How could we teach them about the love God has for them and encourage them to seek the things that are above when their basic needs were so often unmet? How could we build loving relationships with these children when their lives were so chaotic and they moved so often?

Sometimes I think God is looking down on the whole world and what He sees is a bit like an ant colony, people hurrying to and fro, carrying things around urgently, following one another mindlessly, all geared toward the survival of the colony. If you’ve every been stuck in traffic on the beltway around D.C., perhaps you’ve felt you were in an ant colony!

However, ants were not created in the image of God, with a mind, heart and soul meant to seek and love God. When we neglect to pay attention to God, the reason for our existence, we might be more like ants than humans. Our ultimate security is found in God who created our lives and sustains them.

If we live by faith in God, we will be thankful and find it easy to be generous with others. When someone wants to know where is the glory of God to be found in this world, I would suggest it is to be found in the darkest places where followers of Christ are ministering to the sick, the friendless, and the needy, in places among people who see little good or hope. There we were day after day loving God’s children by trying to help them. We love them first, because God loved us first.

Over time and with many challenges we can hope we have learned to trust God. Only God is reliable. What ails humanity most is spiritual poverty, and emptiness that nothing can fill—not wealth, or food, or power, or accomplishment, or even family and friends. All these things are a vanity, they can disappear like a bubble when trying to possess it. When we neglect our personal relationship with God, we are more susceptible to the temptation to seek the things that are beneath God. Our aim is too low. In order to help others see God in their lives, we might need to reconnect to Him ourselves, and find Him to be the source of everything we truly need to be fully human. Amen.

June 23, 2024 Fifth Sunday after Pentecost

5th Sunday after Pentecost 2024

Text: Mark 4:35-41

Did you ever have the experience as a young child of being so sleepy, so tired that you were falling asleep before you could get to bed? I vaguely remember when I was probably about 5 or 6 I was so tired to go up to bed on my own. I remember my dad picking me up and putting me over his shoulder. He carefully took me upstairs to my bedroom and gently rolled me off his shoulder onto my bed, and he tucked me in. That feeling of being carried by someone who loves you has never left me. I felt so safe in my dad’s arms.

We took a Holy Hike yesterday, and one of the children needed to be carried by her dad. I walked behind them and watched as she fell asleep over his shoulder as we walked along. It reminded me of that feeling of safety I had felt.

Perhaps Jesus felt the same way in the boat. He was in the stern asleep on a cushion while a storm tossed the boat. His Father was watching over him. Jesus knew he was safe in God’s hands.

The disciples were afraid so they woke him up, and he stilled the sea. “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?”

People who have done tremendously brave things—like rescuing injured soldiers in the midst of a battle, or swimming into rough water to rescue someone who is drowning, or running into a burning house, are not people who lack fear. They have courage. Their courage overcomes their fear. Their concern, their love for another person drives them to do what others consider heroic.

In Jesus’ prayer to the Father in the Garden of Gethsemane, the night before his crucifixion, we could see he had real fear about what was to happen to him. “My Father if it is possible, let this cup pass me by. Yet not my will but yours.” He was so afraid he was sweating blood. Jesus’ love for the disciples and all human beings whose souls would be lost without his sacrifice overcame his fear. He entrusted his life into the hands of his Father. He would pass through his crucifixion to the place of eternal safety.

So, what does Jesus mean when he seems to be saying ‘faith’ replaces ‘fear’? Fear is a powerful human emotion. We have a strong desire to be in a place of safety. It’s natural, we want to live, we afraid to suffer. It’s primal. So how can faith in God overcome such a strong instinct to survive within us, that was put into us by God in the first place?

When we come to know and trust God as our eternal Father, when we are grateful for everything he has given us—life, family, everything we need to live—we develop a sense of how much he loves us. We can actually begin to feel that he is protecting and carrying us. Just as it seems natural for us to love our own Fathers it becomes natural for us to love God the Father. He is the ideal of all fathers. In loving God, we want to please him, to seek his will for us, to be faithful.

That’s what I thought I was doing when I found myself all alone on an airstrip in the Arctic winter. My friends and family probably thought I had lost my mind. After the pilot of the plane helped me unload all my stuff, we both looked over to the village, which was about a mile away. He said, “I don’t think anyone’s coming to get you.” Communication in the Arctic back then was often unreliable. Maybe they really didn’t know I was coming that day. I remember thinking, “I know God wants be to be here, maybe it’s to get to this point to freeze.” Then the pilot said, “Do you want to put your stuff back in the plane?” I said no. So the pilot took off and circled around the village a couple of times to get someone’s attention. Harriet Tukrook, who was driving the truck for the polar bear watch, saw me with all my stuff at the airstrip, and she came out. I may have lost my mind, but I thought I was being faithful to God. He protected me in my foolishness.

As we walk this life trusting in God there will be times when it is scary to do the right thing, the good thing, to speak the truth in love, to value the life of a stranger so much that we are surprised to find within us the courage to save them, or to travel to a dangerous place to tell others about the love of God. We are all bundles of mixed motives, and discerning the will of God for us is sometimes difficult. That’s what Jesus was expressing in his prayer in Gethsemane. Mere human beings often get it wrong, and we revert to the survival instinct, to be selfish sometimes. It is trust in God, faith, that helps us break out of the place of fear to do the thing God needs us to do in the moment.

Trusting God the Father can be like having your own father carrying you on his shoulder to a place of safety. This is how I believe ‘faith’ can overcome ‘fear.’ This deep sense of being in the hands of God gives us courage to seek his will, to love him in return for all the many, many blessings we have enjoyed. In this broken world, we are all God’s children, and like a natural father, he has hopes and dreams for us. So, let us together seek his will for us, individually and as a parish. Amen.

June 16, 2024 Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

The 4th Sunday after Pentecost 2024

Texts: 1 Samuel 15:34-16:13; 2 Corinthians 5:6-17; Mark 4:26-34

The lessons today show us that sometimes the mysterious power of God is at work in the smallest of things, so we should never dismiss the smallest, the ordinary, or the unexceptional.

On the other end of the spectrum, on Friday millions from all around the world, the former British Empire, turned their attention to the ‘trooping of the colors’, the celebration of the birthday of the English monarch, King Charles III.

In the lesson from the Old Testament last week the people of Israel were begging the prophet Samuel to give them a king. There was a man who was tall, handsome, and noble—like George Washington. People would certainly follow him. But Samuel was reluctant to anoint any person to be the king of Israel because he knew Israel was called to follow God, not a king.

Yet, the people were insistent, so with the Lord’s direction, Samuel anointed Saul to be the first king of Israel. However, Saul was immediately disobedient to God, so he lost God’s favor. Saul went crazy with power and he did not trust God. Saul was in a battle in which he would lose three of his sons, and in despair he fell on his sword, he committed suicide during the battle.

The Lord then led Samuel to the family of Jesse to find Israel’s next king.

Like many in his time, Samuel would have assumed the Lord would choose the older, the more experienced, the wiser of Jesse’s sons. But Samuel, listened to the voice of the Lord, he was patient, he kept at his task, asking God to confirm the one. After Jesse had presented all of his sons, Samuel insisted, “Are all of your sons here?” “There remains the youngest, but he is keeping the sheep.” Perhaps Jesse too assumed the youngest would be least likely to be chosen by God.

David was the last son of Jesse—the youngest, after Eliab, Abinadab, Shammah, and all of David’s other sons. He was the last one Jesse would have thought to be a king. David was the one doing the most menial thing, tending the sheep, keeping them together while they grazed.

Well, the Lord chose the least likely son of Jesse to be anointed king. In monarchies it is usually the oldest who is supposed to be the next queen or king. However the boy who kept the sheep, David, the one who was not even considered by Jesse to present to Samuel, would go on to become the greatest king of Israel. And years later, Jesus, the Son of God, would come into the world as a descendent of David, through Mary’s marriage to Joseph, and possibly through Mary’s own lineage too.

There is a connection between the lessons from First Samuel and Mark’s Gospel—God chose the least through whom to accomplish the greatest feats—the greatest King of Israel, and through David the Messiah who is bringing the Kingdom of God. From the least likely in the world God is bringing the Kingdom of God.

The Kingdom of God is mentioned 55 times in the New Testament. It is the topic about which Jesus taught most often. He primarily used parables like the two in the lesson this morning to describe it.

In the first parable Jesus describes the kingdom as seed growing secretly, quietly, without expectation. It is scattered on the ground, it sprouts overnight, and eventually produces grain, something useful.

The seed is the Gospel, the essence of the Word of God. It is read and taught to us from a very early age, we take it in, but it does not immediately, dramatically change us. The sprouting overnight is sometimes over the course of a lifetime. It is gradually taking root in us as we live and grow, and experience life—but only if it is nurtured in the company of fellow believers who study, and pray, and worship, and mentor one another. We do not just hear the Gospel once and understand it, just as Jesus did not just tell one parable to describe the Kingdom of God. Often that seed is planted deep within us and, if it is given the nutrients it needs, if it is steadily nurtured, it is growing silently, impacting us in subtle ways, forming us to see the world as Jesus does.

The second parable has to do with the smallest of seeds, the mustard seed. How can something so small become such a useful thing?

A former parishioner of mine was attending a family birthday party with his wife. His children and their spouses, grandchildren and their spouses, and a great grandchild were all there. It suddenly occurred to him that all of the lives and the life he was enjoying came from just one small seed of life. Through the life of even just one person, so much life had come into the world. There is great potential in the smallest of things, but it is God who brings it to be, who protects it and sustains it, quietly growing while we are busy attending to the details of daily life.

The mysterious power of God is growing the Kingdom, the time and place where the love of God will rule all hearts. Jesus does not give a complete, detailed description of what will be. He gives us glimpse of it, as we are able to understand it, using common images that are familiar to us—like seeds, and yeast, and fishing nets.

In Paul’s Second Letter to the Corinthians he wrote, “we walk by faith, not by sight”, meaning that we can have confidence that God is working in the world even when we cannot see it. Perhaps it is because so often we overlook the smaller things, like giving some change to a panhandler on the 30th time we see them standing at the stoplight, or one child forgiving another for taking a toy by deciding to share it with them, or feeling the nudge to pray for a friend without request. The goodness of God is at work in the world in quiet ways for those who have eyes to see.

So, even while the world around us seems to be chaotic, we can trust God, that good things will continue to come from him—peace, and joy, and true communion among people, life-giving and self-less love that is endless. God is still at work in his creation, bringing good through small things, the ordinary, the unexceptional. May the Holy Spirit give us the eyes to see the potential for goodness in the small thing, and the patience to wait. Amen.