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“The living bread” The Rev. Kara Leslie (08/11/2024, The Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost)




Let us pray. May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable
unto you, O Lord, and the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit be pray. Amen.
There is an old story which is told to most children about three little pigs. One had a house
made of straw, the second a house made of sticks, and the third a house made of bricks. Three
little pigs were chased by this wolf and they all run to their homes. The wolf comes to
the first one and blows on it, and all the straw flies around leaving only the pig a few feet
away from the sharp teeth of the wolf. And so this little pig runs to his brother's home and goes
into that house, and the wolf chases and sees two little pigs inside this house made of sticks,
and he's saying, hmm, two weeks worth of bacon. And he huffs, and he puffs, and the house blows down.
And so the three, the two pigs run to their brother's house, and they go into this house that's
made of brick. The wolf tries to blow it down, but it can't. So it gets clever, and it goes up to
the chimney, to go down the chimney, only to have its tail catch on fire, and then it runs away.
Now I thought about just stopping the sermon there and saying, welcome visitors,
but maybe you want to know more on this Sunday other than a little story about three little pigs
in three different homes. We've all lived in various homes, rarely does one person live in the same
home they were raised in, that they were born in. It does happen, but not as much now in our society.
In seminary, I moved into an apartment that was on campus housing, 371 square feet,
included a kitchen and a bathroom, and I loved this little place, and the best part was because
it had a full window looking out on the forest in Atlanta. So I would see all kinds of life out
there, and it was a wonderful apartment. And then when I moved here, many, just five years ago,
but many years after being in seminary, I lived in a dorm-like situation that had 100 square feet.
I was thinking 371 was wonderful, but in this little apartment, I had a bed, and when my children
were there, we would have two on the floor, and one in the bed with me, we'd have a bathroom,
and then I had the blessing of sharing the kitchen and the living room with many roommates that were
over a quarter of a century younger than me. It was a different life, but it was what I could
afford when I moved here. We've all lived in different housing, maybe apartment, maybe a back
office, maybe a gorgeous mansion. There are times when we live in places that we don't really want
to live in. Maybe it's a choice, maybe it's all we know, maybe it's because of the circumstances.
After I wrote this sermon, I heard on the news as many of you did about the Israeli strike
that took out a refugee school that was a home, a camp, to people that needed a safe place,
almost 100 people died, and many were children. I want to be sensitive when speaking about home,
and I want to fully acknowledge and ask for your prayers for those who do not have a safe place,
and for those who do not have any kind of housing. Even in these dire circumstances,
and with each of you today, the words live in love, comforts our spirits.
I'm not talking about bricks and sticks and straw, rather, the writer of Ephesians is trying to tell
us these fragile followers of Jesus to live in love. Yes, live in love. The fragile followers of
2024, those of us that wake up every day following Christ, and yet we feel so fragile.
Ephesians tells us to live in love. If you grew up in a home that was full of fighting and
bickering, or maybe that's where you live now, it's hard to breathe, it's hard to trust, it's hard
to grow. Feeling safe of mind, body, and spirit is vital for growing up into a good, well-loving person.
When your energy is focused on malice or your anger, and you're just trying to stay out of the way
of the next dagger or the harsh word, it's hard to be an imitator of Christ. You can feel like your
home is made of straw, and with one flair of red anger, your soul is singed. I imagine the people
this early community are trying to figure out who they are, and have found themselves afraid
for many reasons. The fear is masked, like most of us do, with slander and evil talk against one
another, instead of words of action and words that build them up in the image of Christ.
This still kind of seems true today. Maybe you're living in a place that's like the dry summer
grass of last year, and there's a match that is lit. If you are living in this kind of place,
I want to invite you to come and talk to a clergy person or a counselor. It is hard to live and
thrive in a place that is so difficult and unsafe. What if you live in a place that breaks you?
You're always wrong regardless of what you do or say. You never quite do it right. The things that
bring you joy are not important. It could be simple as sharing a grocery bill. Sometimes when you're
in college, everybody is like, oh, let's just put all our money in, and that really means one person
goes to the grocery store and buys everything, and no one pays them back. Or maybe everybody else is
good at getting the dishes dirty, and you're the only one that's good at getting the dishes clean.
You know, it takes hard work to be a roommate, to live with someone, and you feel like you're ready
to snap and jab. You work honestly for your money, and you want others to not be lazy and take
advantage of your kindness. It's hard to live in this kind of situation. The people of Ephesus
needed to be reminded that they were members of one another. They are to work together to respect one
another, and to work honestly so they can share with the needy. It's not about greedy,
it's about helping the needy. You know, the words humbleness and kindness and gratitude
are used 50% less now than they were 10 years ago. And instead, the words economy and money
are soaring. This week, prime example, the numbers, the unemployment, the fear of interest rates
was all over the news. If you work in the financial world or are depending on the financial
economy, your phone might have been blowing up. You might have been watching to see, was the
rate going up? Was it going down to the interest market go up? I mean, it was consuming this week.
But in the midst of all that, there's this parish right here on 30th Street in Waco Drive,
and we got together and loaded four cars full of school supplies for our mission partners,
Cedar Ridge Elementary. Many of you gave. All of us have prayed and continue to pray every Sunday
in the prayers of the people. Many of these children live in homes that are not safe and break them.
The school is a refuge of kindness. The school is a place that builds them up and believes in them.
And we are helping that to happen. So thank you.
And the cute little pig story, the pig's end up in the big brick house. And the wolf runs away
with the flaming fireplace fiasco. Even a house native bricks can have foundation problems.
It's not all hugs and kisses. It's not the perfect color scheme. There's no dust,
there's no dirt. Even houses of bricks have life in them.
There are times when grace has to be shared abundantly. When forgiveness is what is served for dinner.
And when being tender-hearted is having a very long hard conversation.
These early Christians had to figure this out, how to live together, how to share together,
how to live as Christ loves them. And we do the same today. It was hard then and it is hard now.
There is more. So please stay with me. Do you like to move? There's got to be somebody out here
who likes to move. I mean, come on, a little moving maybe? Let me be clear. I'm not talking about
moving like tape and boxes or hours of work of going through all the things that you crammed
in the back of the drawer, hoping nobody would ever find it. I'm also not talking about the song
from Madagascar 2 when King Julian starts dancing, move it, move it. I am talking about something
that's much deeper for us to feast on. So I invite you to lean in. We are called and created to live
in love. There is a seal that is on the forehead of all baptized Christians, all blessed people,
and this seal says that you are the home of Christ. You are blessed and that declares you as a
temple of the Lord. You are where the Lord lives. The broken bread of life, our Savior comes to you
and your broken snapped, burned places in your soul and declares, I live here.
Jesus tells us in the gospel of John that he is the living bread that came down from heaven to
live in us and we and him. You might be saying to yourself, well, my house is not clean.
Jesus is in afraid of your mess. You might be thinking all I do is sit here and stare out the window.
Jesus likes to look at God's creation too. And he might say my house is too small or too big and
Jesus won't find me or I'm too small. You were made with enough room for Jesus to live in you.
We're all created with all the room Jesus will ever need. Now we can talk about external homes
that we've lived in and how amazing and maybe some of them have been very hurtful. There are places
you can't go. Maybe they're empty of grace, forgiveness, and we saw places yesterday in the news
that are empty and have no peace. When you come to the altar for Holy Communion
and across is marked on your head, my prayer is that you will know you live in love and the love of
Christ. Your home is in the love of Jesus. Amen.