More miracles -- maybe. What is a 'miracle' for?

Last week we had the story of the feeding of the 5000 in Matthew. This week, Jesus and the disciples have finished with that gathering, are tired again, and set out for other places, perhaps rest and restoration. Jesus needs a break from the disciples, too -- '...you all get in the boats and row along -- perhaps fish! you like that -- that's what you were doing when you met me, fishing, yes? I'll just walk along the shore and find a quiet place to meditate and pray for a bit...'

Briefly, this week we seem to descend from cosmic metaphors for that way of Being that is within the life of God, and is for us -- the 'kingdom of heaven', and attend to the needs of the crowd. In Matthew's telling, people have been gathering by the boatload to listen to Jesus teaching, he is exhausted and has withdrawn to a quiet place, and the people follow him... he cures the sick and cares for them... and now they're hungry.

We continue our reading in Matthew. Jesus continues his teaching to the crowds, and he continues to use images they would have understood, as people who tended fields and knew the agrarian cycle. More seeds, more fields, but also now merchants, pearls, nets, and fish!

After reading several weeks ago about Jesus instructing the disciples he is sending out to proclaim that the kingdom of God is at hand (now! within! among!), this week we continue in Matthew's rendering of Jesus' teaching -- these weeks in parables. Parables are stories that, unlike Aesop, are not necessarily meant to have one single meaning. They may be opened like onions, turned on their heads, moved kaleidoscopically. The wisdom of God can reveal itself slowly over time.

So many types of soil; which one am I? From day to day, how am I listening? Classic questions. Who wants to feel like rocky, barren soil?

What, indeed, does it mean to 'come unto him, and he will give you rest?" And, what is the yoke we take upon ourselves to learn from this one who is meek, and lowly in heart?

No matter how far removed from The Great Ones (prophets, the righteous, the disciples!), and no matter how small the act -- 'even a cup of cold water' -- nothing shall be lost, and all is part of the great movement of proclaiming God's presence and healing, and justice and truth, in this world, and for this world's transformation.

Of course, this weekend marks the beginning of astronomical summer, with the northern hemisphere's summer equinox. Long days. The world of the early Church marked this with the feast of John the Baptist -- traditionally six months older than Jesus -- who famously said, "I must decrease that He might increase." 'He' being Christ, in our lives. Enough room. And, of course, the days get shorter from here on out, you know. Decrease, that Christ might increase and grow in our hearts, like the Tree of Life he is...

This week's reading positions us at the beginning of what can be called the 'public ministry' of Jesus. He empowers his disciples to go and do the same work he is doing: casting out that which possesses people unhealthily, healing diseases, restoring that which is dead and dying to new life.

I'd like to draw to your attention something taking place under the auspices of our Cathedral of the Incarnation -- a new initiative called the Center for Spiritual Imagination.

So, a small reflection on cosmic things, for tomorrow:

The tradition has long pondered: just what is all this action of God (in Jesus) for?

Jesus said, ”If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever.

As we read it today, we'll practice 'lectio divina' - listening for a word or phrase that glimmers or speaks to you, whatever it may suggest. Our monastic sisters and brothers have done this for centuries to 'open up the text' - particularly difficult texts.

Perhaps it is a time to pause -- amidst our cabin fever and worry about the future -- and give thought to those who have died in and during this pandemic, often alone. Yet, never fully alone.

The ancient Church heavily used the image of the Tree of Life -- from the Garden of Eden in Genesis, and from John's Revelation, both -- and grafted its imagery onto that of the Cross. The Cross becomes a Tree of Life, whose leaves (in John's imagery) are, "...for the healing of the nations."

The day holds together many traditions, all marking the summation of Jesus' life, teachings, and ministry among us -- the 'Institution of the Eucharist' at supper with his disciples, pledging to be with us always; summing up his teaching in a new commandment to love and serve one another, and embodying that -- as he embodies all things he teaches

The entry into Jerusalem can have a rote quality -- Jesus is doing this to 'fulfill' the words of the prophet: where's that donkey?! But, why fulfill...?

The Gospel text appointed for today is none other than the 'raising of Lazarus' in John's Gospel. Jesus calls out: "Unbind him, and let him go!"

Powerful words. And they contain much of what our tradition has found curious and blessed and powerful in the person of Jesus over the centuries -- the power to bring life out of death.