Divine Math

A couple of weeks ago, I posted a story about "bucket fillers" and "bucket dippers." To follow up on the concept that the way to fill our own bucket is to fill up someone else's bucket, I offer an example of what I call divine math.

Almost everyone has likely heard of the "loaves and fishes" stories in the New Testament. In Matthew 14, we read that to feed the hungry crowd of 5,000, Jesus used just five loaves of bread and two fish, blessing and breaking the bread to distribute to those gathered in the desolate place where they were. In the next chapter, he used seven loaves and a few small fish to feed in excess of 4,000 people. That is divine math; God obviously can bend the rules of multiplication as we know them, and that has always been fascinating (and comforting) to me. It is in the breaking and sharing of what we have, that it is multiplied.

There is another aspect of these stories, however, that I think is often overlooked and perhaps even more amazing. In the case of the 5,000, after they had all eaten and were satisfied, the broken pieces that were gathered up amounted to twelve full baskets. After the 4,000 were done, seven large baskets were filled with the leftover broken pieces. Not only was the food multiplied in a way that breaks the "rules," but what was left over was more than what Jesus had started with at the beginning! And furthermore, in the case where he started with less, he ended up with the most.

In a world desperately lacking in so many ways, we all need to ask ourselves the same question Jesus asked his disciples, "How many loaves do you have?" And when we count what we have, we should use divine math to calculate how far it will go and not worry about giving it away, knowing it will return to us many times over.

Jesus did not want to send the crowds away empty, and he still wants those who believe in him to fill those in need, whatever the need might be. Sometimes the need seems so great, it is easy to become overwhelmed, but we all need to do what we can, even if it seems insignificant. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow said, "Give what you have. To someone, it may be better than you dare to think."

And what you give may go much further than you can conceive.

Dangerous Divisions

Some of you may know that I write a weekly column for the West Plains Daily Quill's Religion page. I have had everyone from Presbyterians to Pennecostals tell me they read my column, at least on occasion. Baptists, Methodists, Episcopalians, Unitarians, members of the Church of Christ, non-denominational folk, agnostics and more have commented favorably on my various musings. I am certain I have not always written things with which all of them agree, but those who disagree have not been unpleasant with their assessments, at least not to my face. (And I do appreciate that. I hope I'm always prepared for constructive criticism, but a kind word of encouragement is so much nicer!)

My point is not to pat myself on the back, or to seek praise, my point is this: civility, kindness and fellowship are possible, even when people fundamentally disagree on certain issues. As this new year is still relatively young, my hope would be that this spirit of agreement would expand to include an ever-increasing number of people, not just with religious differences, but across cultural and racial lines, and even extending, dare I say it, to include political divisions.

There is nothing to be gained by intentionally provoking one another in mean-spirited ways, but that is what so often happens when people disagree. We don't just stick to the issues at hand. Instead, attacks often become personal, tempers flare and un-Christlike behavior erupts that must be make Satan beam with pride. Believe me, I'm not writing this because I'm defending either the Left or the Right. I'm done with politics myself. Seriously. Done.

At this juncture in history, there seems to be little possibility that politics has a chance to succeed in solving much of anything, because there is a destructive force created by division, and division is what results from non-stop political sniping. Certainly there is nothing wrong with thoughtful conversation about opposing views, but so much of the current conversation isn't conversation at all. Both sides sides seem to be in full-on personal attack mode.

Scripture warns there should be no divisions among us. Divisions are destructive, pure and simple. They make progress impossible; as the Book of Mark notes, "a house divided against itself will not be able to stand."

A friend of mine said rightly recently, "We all need to strive to love each other and take care of each other. If we would honor this, the other stuff would take care of itself." And scripture agrees. Proverbs 10:11-12 says, "The mouth of the righteous is a fountain of life, but the mouth of the wicked conceals violence. Hatred stirs up strife, but love covers all transgressions."

Let our striving be for love, peace and understanding. Let us leave divisions behind.

We all have a bucket

I'm convinced that children have a better grasp of theology than almost any adult I know. After all, Jesus did say, ". . . Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven." (Matt. 18:3-4)

Children, it would seem, may have the upperhand, spiritually, so when they speak, we probably should listen. Their approach to almost anything in the world is so simple and straightforward. Here's an example of the wisdom of a child.

Almost any time you ask my grandson what he learned at school, he'll say something along the lines of, "Same old thing." But one day, not long ago, he had a new thing to say. His teacher had read something to the class which one of his friends had brought to school. "Everyone in the whole world has a bucket," he told me with the wide-eyed, earnest enthusiasm of a seven-year-old who had just found a way to express a great truth he had always known. There's no telling exactly how the story went originally, but he continued with his interpretation.

"Some people are bucket-dippers, and some people are bucket-fillers. When someone is a bully and they say or do mean things, they're a bucket-dipper, and they're trying to empty someone else's bucket, so they can fill up their own. But they can never fill up their own bucket by being mean; it really just makes their bucket empty. When someone is a bucket-filler, they do nice things, like say hello to the mailman or smile at everyone. When they do that, they're trying to fill up other people's buckets, but they're really filling up their own bucket, too. Being nice is the only way to fill up your bucket."

Wow. How true is that?

Psalm 8:2 says, "From the mouth of infants and nursing babes You have established strength because of Your adversaries, to make the enemy and the revengeful cease." If we all switched to a definition of strength marked by doing the right thing, making choices based on what is good and simple rather than seeking revenge, if we all tried to become bucket-fillers every day, eventually the bucket-dippers would be silenced, because everyone's bucket would be full. And when everyone's bucket is full, there won't be any reason to fight.

A Scoop of Mashed Potatoes

I didn't get to see it, but during the holidays my grandson was in a skit at school. My husband Allen was there, and when I asked him how it went, he said it was fine, our budding little actor played a scoop of mashed potatoes. I asked him if mashed potatoes had any lines, and it turns out, it was a speaking role. All of the children were portraying food of one sort or another, and each side dish (and the turkey) thought he or she was the best part of dinner.

As the play progressed, and the food was together on the same plate, everyone decided that everyone else was not so bad, and nobody was really any better than anyone else. (At least Allen thinks that was the moral; in addition to having a last-minute, substitute turkey, sometimes first graders aren't quite loud enough when you want them be, and the story may have gotten lost in translation. Upon questioning, all our grandson got out of it was the title of the play, "The Meal Must Go On.")

But isn't it an intriguing thought? That just like gravy and green beans, we can all look different and be unique and still be on the same plate without fighting? Maybe we can even have our own opinions and occasionally disagree with one another and yet still be friends. Wouldn't that be nice? I actually do know many people who have differing political views, religious beliefs and philosophical opinions, and we do manage to get along. However, I wish that on the larger stage of the world, people were more tolerant, more loving and more willing to realize the importance of friendship. In the play, when the mashed potatoes got mixed up with the cranberry sauce, the potatoes said, "Hey, you're not so bad after all." And the sauce said, "You're not so bad yourself."

Ah, yes. One more aspect of living peacefully: Just because you're mashed potatoes, doesn't mean you can't get along with cranberries!

What is peace?

Randy, that's really a thought-provoking question...seems like it should have an easy answer, but not necessarily. I do talk a lot about peace, and your question made me realize I have been focusing on a very narrow view of the subject, defining it, in the most basic of terms, as the absence of war between nations. I think that's a perfectly acceptable definition, but certainly not a very complete one. (And our current efforts, as a country, to achieve peace through the use of force, results in a horrible irony, I think. How can we fight our way to peace?)
I don't claim to be a language scholar, (and what follows is a very simplistic definition) but the Hebrew word "shalom," which is often used as a word of blessing, means peace. Shalom does not simply mean the lack of war; it is complete peace, based on living in harmony and oneness with God and everyone else. It is the notion of embracing all the best we can be, achieve and experience: soundness, security, welfare, friendliness, tranquility. Living in shalom is striving for perfection. It calls us to live relationships marked by respect, justice and goodwill to all.
Rather than a wispy ideal, peace is about solid footing in the world. It is the state of living free from worry and fear. Peace does not cause us, as a nation, to hyper-ventilate over a deluded young man on an airplane with three ounces of explosive powder in his underpants. Peace does not prompt us to have catchphrases such as, "a new year with new fears about terrorism," which was a lead-in to a news program I saw today.
Jesus lived a passionate, caring life, a life of balance in which he did not lose his inner peace even in the midst of turmoil. He didn't suffer from stress and "melt-downs," he was not afraid of the unknown; change did not cause him to panic. As Jesus knew his last days on earth were approaching, he left his disciples with words of comfort, words which are for us today, as well. In John 14:27, he says, "Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful."
Peace is, indeed, the absence of war between nations, but it is so much more. It is the absence of thoughts which trouble our hearts; it is living a life which is complete and whole and free of worry and stress.
Now, having said all of that, I also want to add, in regard to peace specifically between nations, I have often wondered what would have happened if, after 9/11, the United States had not tried to bomb the terrorists into submission, but had, instead, mounted a huge, humanitarian relief effort. In effect, what if we had followed the teaching of Jesus who instructed us to love our enemies and overcome evil with good?
It is estimated that it would take about 40 billion dollars (give or take a few billion) to "cure" poverty worldwide. This includes providing clean drinking water and an education for everyone, and addressing women's health issues. What if, instead of spending approximately 1 trillion dollars (give or take 10 billion or so) on the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, we had used that money to sow seeds of kindness and love? We would have given the money regardless of a nation's religious or cultural beliefs, so a big chunk of that money would have been distributed in poverty-stricken areas which are largely dominated by Islam.
I believe if we had ministered to the Muslim masses, they would not have allowed the terrorists to gain a foothold in the world. They would have said no to the extremists among them. They would have seen us as "saviors," rather than invaders and the warmongers we have become. Many experts have pointed out that our presence in Iraq and Afghanistan has been the greatest recruiting tool that the Taliban has. Common sense and spiritual wisdom can only confirm this line of thinking.
I've heard various folks say that is not the way we can deal with this particular enemy because they hate our way of life and they will never give up, but I defy anyone to say they have a better idea than Jesus on any topic, including the way to achieve peace.
So, I guess that's my (sort of long) definition of peace. Following is St. Francis of Assisi's "Prayer for Peace," which has always stuck with me and is a pretty good summary as well.
What about you? What are your thoughts on defining peace?

Make Me An Instrument of Your Peace
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love,
Where there is injury, pardon
Where there is doubt, faith,
Where there is despair, hope,
Where there is darkness, light,
Where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much
seek to be consoled as to console,
not so much to be understood as to understand,
not so much to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
it is in dying that we awake to eternal life.

--- St. Francis of Assisi