Soup for Breakfast!
A sermon for world-wide communion Sunday


Mark 14 3-6; 12-16.

Leave her alone, said Jesus, she has done a beautiful thing. She had done all that she could. She had purchased a vial of perfume, very expensive in that society, and poured it on the body of Jesus. It was an outrageous display of affecffon and adoration. Others were crying, "What a waste! She could have given the money to me poor."  Jesus said "She has done a beautiful thing."
  There is no hint in me scriptures whether or not this woman was a follower of Jesus. We don't know whether this was to gain the favor of Jesus, or whether it was a spontaneous demonstration of affection from a devotee.  The writer of Mark uses this story as a foreshadowing of Jesus death.

It causes us to raise some questions.  Like those in the story, we say, "Why?"  Why is it that people who are seemingly anonymous do some great things?  Why do individuals who are not people of faith work for the betterment of others, volunteering their time and their money to assist the needy?  Why do people who never darken the door of any religious institution often do far more for humanity than people who claim to be Christian?  It is one of the oldest and toughest problems the Church has had to face during its long history; what do you say about the righteous pagans?  How do you deal with good, loving and helpful people who are not part of the Church?  This dilemma  has caused modem theologians to state that faith is dfflerent from belief.  Simply to believe is to leave the experience in the head.  That is a common misconception among people who are not followers.  Marcus Borg writes of being on an airplane when a woman who was his seat partner said, "I'm much more interested in Buddhism and Sufism than I am in Christianity, because" she continued  "they are about a way of life, whereas Christianity is all about believing.  The contemporary TV preachers, in the main, have been wrong.  The question is not "Do you believe?" The question is "Are you a follower?" Jesus said "I am the way, the truth and the life." The first Christians were called followers of "the way".  Belief is not enough. It was the writer of the book of James who said, "Even the demons believe and they  shudder." The truth that complicates our way of life is that many who are followers of the way of Jesus are not participants in the organized Church.  Sometimes, some of the most Christ-like gestures and deeds of assistance are done by people we least expect.  Do we lament that process?  I think not; rather, we rejoice and look within ourselves to see where we in the Church have failed to inspire people to discipleship.  We need to remember that the symbol of the church is not a cushion;  it is a cross.

The phone rang.  "Is this Dr. Lobb" the voice asked. "It is" I replied. "I'm calling from Winnipeg" the man said, "we're having a preaching conference in our Church next October and I am inquiring if you are interested and able to come and be a teacher of preaching." After talking about dates and seeking the approval of the Official Board of my church, we agreed to talk again.
"I've never been in Winnipeg" I said.  "How should I dress for an October event?" "We have lovely Indian Summers", he promised, "wear something light and comfortable." I was picked up at the airport early in the evening and after a dinner where the logistics of the conference were spelled out, I was taken to my motel, which was one of those low Iying building built behind a earthen wall or burm.  I walked between the cut in the earth and went into my room.  I was awakened by a phone call early the next morning. "Dr. Lobb, we have had to cancel the conference". "Why" I asked. "Oh" he said, `'You haven't looked out yet.  Last night we had one of those freak early fall snowstorms and the town is not moving.  There are tree branches down all over, and none of the snow equipment is ready.  I can't even get you to the airport, because it's closed, in fact, I can't get over to take you to breakfast.  You'll have to go on your own.  There is a small café near you. Go out the door of the motel and take two rights and you will see a Greyhound berminal.  There's a café in there."

So, I got dressed, put on my light clothes and my docksider shoes, and I headed out the door to slosh through 10 inches of wet snow to find the café.  When I got there, it was full.  The manager, waiter and host,
dressed in a dirty apron looked around, and when a group of men in one corner moved together, he signaled me to go to that seat.  "May I have a menu?" I asked. `'Don't need one", he said, " we're out of everthing except soup." "Oh, soup", I said, "just what I love for breakfast," and he disappeared.  Just then, the door swung open and in walked a young lady, dressed inadequately for the conditions.  Her hair was wet and she shook her light raincoat.  After looking around, she noticed some rough old workers in one of the booths scoot closer together and motion for her to join them. "What'll you have?" asked the same waiter. "Just a glass of water" she said. I'm trying to get to work and I am very wet and very cold.  May I just have a glass of water and remain here long enough to dry off a little and warm up. "You'll have to go" bellowed the gruff waiter. "You can't stay if you don't order something." "I don't have much money" she said, "That's why I am walking, because I can't afford the bus ticket.  And you can see, I need to keep this job" "Sorry " he said, " you can't stay here if you don't order." So she stood up.  And then I observed an amazing thing. The men at the table where she sat got up also. Then the guys at the table where I was stood up.  Even I stood up, and I didn't have my soup yet.

"All right, all right," yelled the waiter, "she can stay,"  So we all sat down again.  Finally, my soup came.  It was a funny looking soup.  I never saw a soup like it before.  What a strange colour!  And when I tasted it, it
was even more strange.    It sorta tasted like bread and wine!

Dr. Doug Lobb.

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