“Sermon”

c. 2018 Rod Ice

All rights reserved

(5-18)

Note To Readers: I have not attended church of any kind in many years. Though I consider myself a spiritual person, in the mixed tradition of my non-denominational Christian, and indigenous ancestors. Religion is a difficult subject to discuss as I have strong feelings about some who soil the idea of a creator with purely partisan purposes. What follows here is the product of a dream from overnight. Certainly something yielded from the experience of recently losing my father, a person of faith. I offer it as an example of the many voices that speak when my subconscious mind is free to listen. I leave any interpretation up to you, as the reader.

Sunday morning at the Church of Christ at Pringle Run.

Peacefully, familiar tones of ‘The Old Rugged Cross’ faded into reverent silence. Then, an elder from the group gestured toward me as I sat on the front pew. I felt out of place, particularly as I still wore my uniform shirt from Giant Eagle, the grocery chain where I had been a store manager for several years. But my presence had been requested as a postscript to the funeral of one held in high esteem by the flock.

I called him my father.

“Brothers and sisters,” Elder Craig spoke with pride. “I would like to introduce a fellow this morning that some of you may not know. He is here from Ohio. From a place near the city of Cleveland, by Lake Erie.”

Wide eyes opened and gasps sounded from across the group.

“Good morning!” I began.

The parishioners seemed puzzled by my presence. I felt a similar mood in my belly. But the fact that this oddity of fate had occurred came more easily because it was part of a dream. So I let it play out in my slumbering cerebrum.

“You’ve often heard my dad offer lessons here on Sunday,” I reflected. “Or perhaps, guest speakers from the area. Perhaps even traveling preachers from afar. But today, I offer you myself. As I often like to be identified, ‘A guy that works in a grocery store.’ A humbled sinner. A seeker of truth.”

Eyes grew wider around the church. It was clear that I had everyone’s attention.

“My service to others has been as a representative of a supermarket company,” I explained. “You might wonder how that qualifies me to stand before you today. To offer thoughts in this sanctuary. To presume that I have something of value...”

Nervous coughing sounded throughout the auditorium.

“It was my original intention to talk about the similarities between my own profession and those who have preceded me in this pulpit,” I continued. “My work has been to help provide food for hungry shoppers. Those who have ministered here were bringing sustenance of a different sort. What some would call the ‘bread of life.’ But both of these paths bring meals to hungry people. Food for the stomach or food for the soul. We all need to be fed, for our health to endure. It is our nature. Thus, I feel that my personal calling may appear to be different from what you might expect to encounter here, on a day that you hold as being holy. Yet I would point out that these concepts are not so dissimilar from each other.”

A few smiles began to shine. They helped ease the tension I felt in my gut.

“You see, there is logic to standing here, with a hopeful message of feeding the flock,” I confessed. In a sense, in harmony with the example of Christ and the five loaves and two fish depicted in the Bible. For example, in the book of Matthew, Chapter 14. While he certainly came to feed his followers in spiritual terms, there was a parallel theme expressed. One of feeding the body in addition to the soul.”

Whispers sounded in the room.

“At Giant Eagle I did not work any miracles of course,” my speech continued. “The food I offered was only of fleeting importance, perhaps only able to carry our customers through a meal with their families. But I reckon that by filling their bellies we did assist them in being healthy and able to go forward to places such as this chapel, today. A pastor who once served at the church near my home on the Thompson Township Square would opine that people needed to be healthy in some sense to fully receive the gospel. Each of us, in our own measure, despite mortal frailties, seek the fullness of health. Even as time and the aging process make our forward steps fewer in number and slower of pace.”

Heads began to nod. And the whispers continued.

“But, as said before, this obvious line of thinking was exploded earlier this morning,” I reflected. “While sleeping overnight, I dreamed of a scripture often heard during my childhood. From Matthew, Chapter 7. ‘Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? And in thy name cast out devils? And in thy name done many wonderful works? And then I will profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity.’”

Silence overtook the group. I was quoting from a dream within a dream. But the story was not yet finished.

“Now, you may ask how I have connected these thoughts in my message this morning,” I exclaimed. “How does working in a grocery store connect with these words of scripture? I ask you to consider, to whom was this admonition given? To malcontents, to revelers in sin, to outcasts, or to doubters without the sure foundation of faith?”

Many slid forward to the edge of their pews. It had never been more quiet than now.

“No indeed, I would propose,” my sermon concluded. “This message was given to those who professed to believe in the Son of God. In our blessed savior, Jesus Christ. To those who boast of a godly existence and regular visits, in a modern context, to a church such as this one, today!”

Jaws fell open. Again, there were gasps around the sanctuary.

“It is clear that a hungry person needs to be fed,” I shouted. “No one would dispute the anguished growl of an empty stomach. Nor would anyone here dispute that an empty soul needs spiritual food, literally the gospel handed down to us in the Word of God. But what of those who do not feel the pangs of hunger? What of those who feel content with their diet of scripture? I ask you to read this portion of the Bible and ponder that the message here rings true for many of you who may literally be starving inside. Sure of yourselves in knowledge of the word and the habits of worship, yet unfed with the genuine love and grace of Jesus Christ. Look within yourself, my friends and neighbors. Would you trust me to help you to find groceries this morning at my little store in Geneva, Ohio? Would you trust the holy scriptures to help you find a greater feast, one that can feed a starving soul for all eternity? I implore you to search your soul and ask ‘Am I filled with the Holy Spirit, or only calling Lord, Lord out of habit?’ Was this scripture written for me? If you are thirsty, come forward and drink. If you are hungry, come forward and eat. Gentle believers, I ask each of you to answer this question now… as we stand and sing.”

The congregation took to their feet and raised their voices in song.

“Oh God, when I in awesome wonder

Consider all the worlds thy hands have made

I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder

Thy power throughout the universe displayed

Then sings my soul, my savior God, to thee

How great thou art, how great thou art...”

RDI 5-16-18

Questions or comments about ‘Words On The Loose’ may be sent to: icewritesforyou@gmail.com

Write us at: P. O. Box 365 Chardon, OH 44024