Sunday Sermon. November 22, Five Grains of Corn Deuteronomy 8:7-19 Rev. Judy Wismar Claycomb, Lead Pastor

Transcription

1 2537 Lee Road Cleveland Heights, OH Telephone: Website: Sunday Sermon November 22, 2015 Five Grains of Corn Deuteronomy 8:7-19 Rev. Judy Wismar Claycomb, Lead Pastor I m told that five grains of corn were, perhaps, the earliest symbol of thanks giving in this country. November 22, 2015 The story is that for years, in the original colonies, five grains of corn were distributed at Thanksgiving to every man, woman, and child to help them remember the first hard winter in the Americas, when every Pilgrim received five grains of corn as a daily food ration. Otherwise, it would just be too easy to forget the hardships the settlers had known after their nine week voyage, pitching about in the hold of the Mayflower no fresh food and very little water to drink. When the first contingent arrived, November 21, 1620, and the remainder of the 102 settlers joined them a month later, on December 26, it was, obviously, too late in the year to plant any crops. That first winter, 46 of the 102 died. At one time, only seven of them were healthy enough to nurse the others who were gravely ill. Come March, they made acquaintance with native Americans, Samoset, Squanto, and Chief Massasoit, Chief of the Wampnoag tribe, who taught them to plant, hunt and trade. After a beautiful summer season and a promising harvest, Governor Bradford declared an October celebration of Thanksgiving. Massasoit and ninety members of the tribe arrived, bringing venison and fowl-- (though the myth busters tell us, probably not turkeys, although, if internet is to be believed, there is plenty of evidence of wild turkeys in the legends)--and the celebration and games were extended for three days. A month later, the first ship from home arrived, and it s long-awaited cargo: 35 more colonists, which was great, of course but no equipment, tools, bedding, clothing or food. Bradford, Brewster and Winslow made the sobering decision that they would go on half rations through the winter, to see them through to summer season, when fish and game would be available. It was a bitter winter, and the settlers were ultimately reduced to a daily ration of five kernels of corn a piece. A twelve week drought followed the first planting in spring, the crops withered along with the hope of the pilgrims. In the words of Edward Winslow: "These and the like considerations moved not only every good man privately to enter into examination with his own estate between God and his conscience, and so to humiliation before Him, but also to humble ourselves together before the Lord by fasting and prayer. A day was set aside specifically for prayer, and from that day, came this response from Winslow, But, O the mercy of our God, who was as ready to hear, as we were to ask! For though in the morning, when we assembled together, the heavens were as clear and the drought as like to 1

2 continue as it ever was, yet (our exercise continuing some eight or nine hours) before our departure, the weather was overcast, the clouds gathered on all sides. On the next morning distilled such soft, sweet, and moderate showers of rain, continuing some fourteen days and mixed with such seasonable weather, as it was hard to say whether our withered corn or drooping affections were most quickened or revived, such was the bounty and goodness of our God!" The following Fall there was a surplus of corn and the settlers didn t ever want to forget their time of hardship, so for years afterwards, when food became more plentiful and the colonies were well established, they laid by each plate on Thanksgiving Day five grains of corn as a symbol of harder days they had known, and a reminder to be thankful to God for their very survival. Five grains of corn. Five simple seeds of thanksgiving, lest we take these gifts for granted, paired with five brief stories of ones who have not. Some who have known lean years and yet remain thankful. The first grain reminds us to celebrate God s provision of daily bread, for some of us, abundant, nourishing food. I had opportunity to share with UMW this month pictures from a visit to Camphor Mission in Liberia, where through your shared benevolence giving Church of the Saviour helps to support and staff a church, a health clinic, and a school, establishing fresh water wells, offering teacher and health aid training. The 14 year Civil War in West Africa decimated infrastructures for communications, government, education, commerce, health care, and drained the region of not only economic resources, but also leadership resources. Food is precious. Meat is scarce. The East Ohio Mission Team was treated like honored guests, served chicken and fish far more regularly than the local village families would afford. A staple of the local diet is Cassava, the edible root of a plant that is plentiful and easy to grow. Cassava is starchy, filling, packed with carbohydrates and of little nutritional value. But it fills hungry children s bellies. We could see women pounding the cassava root in a contraption that looked to me something like a butter churn, rendering the starchy mass of the root. Our cook at Camphor mission, Irene, prepared a special meal of cassava, so that we would have a taste of the most common local fare. She molded for each one of us, in cereal bowls, a mound of cassava in a special preparation called fufu. It took a form like jello, bluish milky white, like skim milk, tasting like gelled laundry starch, then fermented. Well, Kathy Dickriede, our team leader encouraged us to be polite guests and at least try it. Several of us shared a bowl, each taking spoonful onto our plates. After the meal when I cleared the table, I was embarrassed to see bowl after bowl of her careful preparation piled up like a sculpture of milky white jello. I couldn t eat any more than my spoonful, but the waste haunted me... until later on in our hike through the bush to a village, where we saw Camphor school children, dressed down to the skin, having shed their neatly pressed blue and yellow school uniforms, back home, sitting on the walls alongside their huts, feasting eagerly on our discarded cassava. 2

3 Do not say to yourself, My power and the might of my own hand have gotten me this food to eat. 18 But remember the LORD your God, for it is God who gives you power to get food. Let's allow the second grain remind us to celebrate God s provision of shelter, housing, a loving home. In an earlier pastorate there was a ninety-five year old church member, Florence, living in a one-story, over-heated, falling down, leaning in, ramshackle little house, two doors up from the church. That structure, I learned, had originally been built as temporary housing for migrant farm workers. --It hadn t been intended to be occupied as a permanent family home--- but the Zweifels managed to raise Bill, Clyde and Russell, Mildred, Marge, Jean, Jane, John and Jim there. Mildred, Clyde and Russell were blind. After I had buried Clyde, John, Mildred and Jane, Florence, now in her late nineties, was alone in her tiny house. We learned that the water well was tainted and unusable, the walls and floors of the home were unstable. Her surviving children and church family were concerned for her safety and well-being. We tried to interest her in lovely, clean, safe, comfortable assisted living accommodations, but she declined. She couldn t imagine anything as wonderful as her little home. Eventually her health was such that she required assistance and her family moved Florence into assisted living. The little house was condemned. And on the wall above her bed, in her new residence was a pen and ink sketch of that humble house. An artist at church had drawn it for her to have with her. There is no mansion LaBron can buy in L.A. that could top that cherished home in her affection. In the rich soil of love, well-watered by faith, fertilized by hardship and sustained with patience-- Florence Zweifel had founded her family home. Do not say to yourself, My power and the might of my own hand have gotten me this home to live in. 18 But remember the LORD your God, for it is God who gives you power to be at home. The third grain reminds us of all we have and possess, an abundance with which to enjoy life. We take a lot for granted, until we allow ourselves to go and see and become acquainted with some of God s people who have less than we have. I remember the powerful teaching by those who served on one youth mission team in Mississippi, helping to clean up and rebuild homes and lives devastated by hurricane Katrina. Our church group arrived to help about nine months after the destruction. And, so, here, it was nine months later, that the team was for the first time, cleaning out a woman s linen closet. And you can imagine what they encountered, in the heat of the south, the dark, damp environment of the closet. As they sorted through the linens, trying to determine what could be salvaged, there was blanket, encased in a plastic cover, black with mold, which the volunteer reluctantly decided should be thrown out. The home owner protested, saying they would wash it, and our church missioner gently suggested that it was not salvageable, there was no way it would come clean. The home owner said, Honey, when you have lost everything, anything is salvageable. 3

4 Do not say to yourself, My power and the might of my own hand have gotten me these possessions I enjoy. 18 But remember the LORD your God, for it is God who gives you the ability to enjoy all things. The fourth grain reminds us of our gratitude for good health to enjoy life abundantly. For this grain my story of thanks comes from my late cousin Mickey. One year at Thanksgiving time my mother wrote an to her older sister s son. My cousin Mickey Moore had run into a few snags in life, like most of us. And he had some dangerous bouts of illness, due to chronic, degenerative diseases of the intestinal tract. But you wouldn t guess that from his response to my Mom s inquiry about his Thanksgiving holiday that year. After a couple of paragraphs about the stress and strain of his work week before and after Thanksgiving Day, Mickey wrote: "Sound as though I wasn't appropriately thankful? Not so. I've known a lot of love and caring in my life, and have learned to love and to care, I've been to Big Sur. I've seen the Colorado Rockies. I've lived in Ohio in October. I've rocked my crying son 'till sleep found him, My children are healthy, I've known the love of my parents and the love of a woman, I've laughed with a friend 'till my ribs hurt, I've been hungry and thirsty and bone weary; I've feasted, drunk my fill, and awakened refreshed. And I can go to the ocean to recapture my rhythm and put myself in perspective. Sometimes I worry that the books aren't balanced. I haven't had my share of misery, of poverty, of loss, of hurt. There's plenty of it around. Maybe it's not catching. Or maybe I was immunized as a child. Yes, thank you, I had a good Thanksgiving." Do not say to yourself, My power and the might of my own hand have achieved my good health. 18 But remember the LORD your God, for it is God who gives you power to be well. Finally, the fifth grain reminds us of the abundance God provides our lives created to be in relationship with each other. We re so different. (And some of us are more different than others!) If you look at a tiny single grain of corn: It s amazing, the variety and subtle nuance of colors, on one single cob, or even in each individual kernel of corn, from God s spectacular creation. The Pilgrims who came to these shores were family people, many of them were church people, and they made the hazardous journey across the ocean for the sake of family and community of faith relationships. The native Americans who met them here were as much family people and people of deep faith. Can you imagine the losses, the hazards, the trauma, that these vulnerable populations, the early settler communities, and their neighboring, receiving Native American communities must have needed to navigate, and negotiate and sustain? How does one navigate such traumatic stress of human differences and change in love? For this grain my story of thanks is for Sally Baldwin of this congregation. I never met her, though I have been in her home while she rested in the next room. I ve learned about Sally from many of you who are over-flowing with grateful and lovingly tearful memories about her- -not the least of which from her husband of 66 years Ken loves to tell how Sally played Maria in Church of the Saviour s production of Sound of Music, and wore for the wedding scene 4

5 her dress from THEIR wedding-- which still fit, Ken loves to say, even after she had delivered five children. The grain of truth Sally teaches about mining God s abundant gifts in relationships came to me from Liz Mull. Liz told me that Sally had a way of finding, seeing or imagining the positive motives behind any one s actions or behaviors. It s walk a mile in my shoes, Sally-style. The Mull family even has a catch phrase they use: Be Sally. Before you accuse, criticize or abuse, Be Sally. Do not say to yourself, My power and the might of my own hand have gotten me this precious family, this soul mate I love, this community of faith- friends. 18 But remember the LORD your God, for it is God who gives you the ability to love and to be loved. And we are grateful witnesses to this divine gift love, for Christians most clearly known and shown in Jesus of Nazareth, whom we confess to be even God with us. Let us Pray: Thou hast given so much to me, Give one thing more--a grateful heart. Not thankful when it pleases me, As if thy blessings had spare days, But such a heart, whose pulse may be Thy praise. (George Hubert) 5