Taste and See God’s Rescue

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Text: Psalm 50:7-15, Proverbs 27:23-27

When we get hamburger patties out of the freezer and throw them on the grill, we do so with very little appreciation for the cow or the farmer that feeds us.   

We have very little personal connection with the sources of our food when we go to the grocery store and purchase perfectly portioned packages of meat. 

Our relationship with the animal life of this world was intended to be very different.  We were made “in God’s own image,” so that we might “take charge of the fish of the sea, the birds in the sky, the livestock, all the earth, and all the crawling things on earth” (1:26). 

As the New Interpreter’s Bible notes, the command to take charge, to “have dominion… reveals that it must be understood in terms of care-giving, even nurturing, not exploitation… human beings should relate to the nonhuman as God relates to them.”[1]

And just as the fulfillment of our purpose was to love and obey God, so was it the fulfillment of the creatures to love and obey humanity. [2]

In the first chapter of Genesis, we find a paradisiacal vision with a vegan diet for all – only green plants for food; and no animal products are consumed by humans or creatures (Genesis 1:29-30).

By the time we get to the fourth chapter, however, humanity has been kicked out of the garden and the relationship between creatures, humanity, and God is forever changed.

And yet, God continues to provide and be in relationship with us.

We learn that the first children respond to God’s gift of life and provision is by presenting an offering from each of their resources… an offering of grain, and an offering from the flock. 

Each represented a sacrifice – food that would no longer be available for sustaining their family.  Yet the text tells us that Abel’s offering from the flock was more pleasing to God than Cain’s.

The text infers that it wasn’t the type of offering.  Rather, it was the spirit of the giver.

Yet Cain is jealous of his brother and this taking of the first animal life is followed by the taking of the first human one.

By the sixth chapter of Genesis, humanity has been devoured by sin and God wipes the slate clean with the Flood.

Both humanity and animal life is preserved through the ark Noah built.

Quick trivia question… how many of each type of animal did Noah and his family bring aboard the ark?  [PAUSE]

The answer is… it depends!

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“From all living things – from all creatures – you are to bring a pair, male and female, into the ark with you to keep them alive.” (6:19)

“From every clean animal, take seven pairs, a male and his mate…” (7:2)]

In some verses, it says two of each animal… but in other verses the text tells us that they brought seven pairs of the clean animals… the ones that could be eaten and sacrificed.

Which is pretty important, because as soon as Noah steps off the boat, he builds an altar and offers up some of these creatures to God.

This offering was not required. 

It was an expression of gratitude and a sacrifice, for these creatures were the only ones left on the planet which could provide for Noah and his family. 

God is pleased with this sacrifice and as God blesses Noah and his family, the meal plan given to humanity is adjusted.

Everything that lives and moves will be their food… with one caveat. 

All of creation is still a gift, and God still desires life, even amid our tendency towards destruction. 

So the blood is not to be consumed, and the spilling of blood among humanity is not permitted. 

Our responsibility remains to have power over… also known as responsibility for… all of creation.

We are still to practice dominion.

We continue to follow this thread to the book of Proverbs:

“Know your flock well;

Pay attention to your herds,

…Then the lambs will provide your clothes,

And the goats will be the price of your fields.

There will be enough goat’s milk for your food,

For the food of your house,

And to nourish your young women.” (Proverbs 27:23-27)

I think of my friend, Tim and his wife, Lori. 

They raise chickens on their farm out by Norwalk. 

Tim calls them “the girls” and he lets them out of the coop every morning, pampers them with great feed and treats from the garden, gathers their eggs, and safely tucks them in every night. 

Occasionally the chickens get territorial, and sometimes bigger ones would pick on the smaller ones, so multiple coops and a process for integrating new birds into the flock helped to manage that process.

Many of the cuisines of the world developed from what the land of the region supported holistically, rather than farmers trying to meet the demands of the market as we do today. 

Like the proverbs wisely suggest, these people understood their flocks well and understood that the well-being of their herds meant the well-being of their families. 

The scale of production was much smaller and many regional cuisines developed with more grains and vegetables than meat on their plates because the whole environment fed the people. 

They thought about how the grass and the lambs, the wool and the milk, the manure and the fig and olive trees were all intertwined with one another.

In his book, The Third Plate, Dan Barber is concerned about how we can care for flocks in a way that ensures this kind of dominion and stewardship. 

His restaurant, Blue Hill, is not only farm-to-table, but was actually built on his farm. 

It wasn’t too long, however, that he began to realize there was a problem with his efforts. 

They took wonderful care of their flocks and their pasture, moving the sheep to the freshest spots, letting chickens fertilize the land. 

It was the work of husbandry and shepherding and the spirit of the proverbs. 

Yet, when the first lambs were ready for the table, he observes that “we had sold out in the time it takes to eat a hot dog” (page 13).

The problem with how we eat today, especially in restaurants, is that we give the biggest chunk of our plate to the protein and it is not sustainable for the planet, farms, or our diets. 

We have taken the good gifts of God, gifts given to humanity even in the midst of our sin and rebellion, and we use our power over them to produce as much meat as fast as we can, often without regard for humane treatment or for the nutritional depth that comes from good husbandry.

It wasn’t always this way.

As Margaret Feinberg notes in her book, Taste and See, “Throughout the Torah, God instructs how to eat, when to eat, what to eat, and how much to eat… in an era before refrigeration and vaccines, these food laws kept the Israelites from becoming Ill.  They also distinguished God’s people…” 

She visits with the self-proclaimed “Meat Apostle, “ Matt Hamilton and he tells her that these ancient regulations still impact how we handle food today, because it keeps us safe. 

But these commands and teachings also speak of how we treat the flocks. 

God has always required that we do so mercifully and with care.

Butchering must be done in ways that avoid pain.

Modern science even tells us that calm and well-cared for livestock produce better tasting meat because a scared animal will cause adrenaline to rush through the body. 

In biblical times and many places around the world today, meat is not a staple, but a delicacy. 

It is expensive to raise meat… both in terms of time, land, and food. 

As Feinberg explains, “ancient Israelites knew the real value of the animal is found in the length of its life, not its brevity.” (p 149).  As the author of Proverbs tells us, these flocks provide milk and wool and offspring that will sustain the family over the years. 

So the offering of a year-old, unblemished lamb…

Or the butchering of the fattened calf when the prodigal son returns home…

These all represent sacrifices of not only food today, but of milk, wool, and income in the future.

And it was often only during these moments of holy worship and celebration that meat would have been consumed by ordinary folks. 

In a burnt offering, the whole animal would be consumed by fire – everything given to God.

For a guilt or a sin offering, the animal guts would be given to God and the meat would be reserved for the priests.

But in a fellowship or peace offering, the meat is divided between the priests and the one who made the offering. 

You see, these kinds of offerings or sacrifices represent our gratitude, our trust, and our obedience to the Lord. 

As Matt Hamilton says, “God wants a person’s best… and to trust him that when we sacrifice, he’ll provide the next animal for the offering” (p. 153). 

You see, it is not the taking of a life that is pleasing to God.

It is putting our lives in God’s hands. 

It is acknowledging our dependence upon the Lord. 

And that sacrificial act of letting go of your own power and property and placing your future in God’s hands… that is what is redemptive about our offerings. 

God gives the ancient Israelites the command to make these kinds of sacrifices, because the act itself formed them as people. 

Or as Feinberg puts it, “recognizing the high-cost world of livestock helps us understand the high-cost ask of God” (152).

God doesn’t want us to go through the motions.

God does not need our sacrifices.

After all, all of the creatures of this earth already belong to God.

As the Psalmist writes, the cattle on a thousand hills are the Lord’s. 

What God has always desired is that we walk gently upon this earth and bear God’s image to the world.

God wants us to practice dominion, responsibility, care towards all creatures.

God has given us the gift of creatures on land, air, or sea to be our companions and to provide essential resources for life. 

God desires for us to not take for granted what we have and to fulfill the promises we have made and to trust that God will provide and rescue us. 

God wants us to be reconciled to one another, to creation, and to the Lord.

And so, God ultimately made a sacrifice. 

The Lord, who is our shepherd, became the perfect, unblemished lamb. 

As Feinberg writes, “through the bloody mess of Jesus’s death… God experienced what we all experience living on this broken ball of dirt.” (p. 157)

Jesus entered into our pain and sin and became truly with us, Immanuel. 

He took away the barrier that sin places between us and true, abundant life. 

And Jesus calls us to do the same.

To stand beside and care for the vulnerable of this world.

To practice dominion and care and mercy.

To trust that God is with us in all that we do. 

And to act in ways that respect and honor the gift of life we have been given. 

May it be so. 

Amen.


[1] Terence E. Fretheim. NIB. Volume I. p. 346

[2] Ibid. I.5.

a billion organisms and the Body of Christ #iaumc15

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Did you know that soil is incredibly diverse and complex?  It might look like simple dirt, but one handful contains more living organisms than there are people on the planet.

 

And every part of the soil, every organism has a part to play.  They affect chemical and physical properties.  There are a billion bacteria in one gram of fertile soil that consume what is produced by green plants… there are fungi that decompose materials, there are soil animals that consume and decompose and feed on one another and leave channels in the soil that increases infiltration of minerals and water and oxygen.

And all of these living organisms live off of and feed off of one another.  It is their interaction that makes soil healthy and thriving and good.

In his book, The Third Plate, Dan Barber describes the “war” that is going on in the soil we walk upon.  It is a class system where:

Jack pointed to the soil. “There’s a war going on in there…”

first-level consumers (microbes), the most abundant and miniscule members of the community, break down large fragments of organic material into smaller residues; secondary consumers (protozoa, for example) feed on the primary consumers or their waste; and then third-level consumers (like centipedes, ants, and beetles) eat the secondaries.  The more Jack explained it, the more it started to sound like a fraught, complex community…

Fred Magdoff, likened the process to a system of checks and balances. “To me there is real beauty in how it works,” he said. “When there is sufficient and varied food for the organisms, they do what comes naturally, ‘making a living’ by feeding on the food sources that evolution provided… What you have is a thriving, complex community of organisms.”

I have been thinking about the immense complexity of dirt and what it means for us as the church.

We have been inundated with a move towards “simple church” and we talk so much about unity and yet I wonder what would happen if instead we embraced the incredibly complex, diverse, thriving nature of soil as a metaphor of our life together.

It is actually what we find in the Body of Christ as described by Paul in 1 Corinthians 12. We have feet and hands and eyes and hearts and livers and spleens.  We all play a part. We might look at others and think, “I don’t need you,” but Paul says we are wrong.

In our Iowa Annual Conference right now, we are divided.  We are different.  We don’t read scriptures the same.  We feel differently about human sexuality.  We aren’t sure what we should do about those folks on the margins, our brothers and sisters, who are gay or lesbian or bisexual or transgender or still discovering. Underneath it all is a different understanding of how we understand the scriptures.

And sometimes, that diversity feels like a war.  It feels like the battle Jack described the soil beneath us.  We are chewing each other up and spitting each other out. And I hate the way my brothers and sisters are hurt and damaged by comments that cut to the core of their very being.  Especially as I watch them walk away from the Body of Christ.

When you focus on the conflict that diversity creates, like Jack did, you want to strip out everything that is different to protect yourself and others.  We want simple things.  We want unity, which means, we want to all be the same.

But to be healthy, we need diversity.  We need difference.  We need checks and balances.  We need to remind each other of the importance of the bible and scripture and justice and mercy and grace and love.  It comes from both sides.  We need to listen.  We need to hold one another accountable.  We also need to challenge one another.  We need to say things that are difficult to hear.  We need to be willing to speak the truth in love.

And together, the interaction of all of our different parts creates something beautiful and mysterious and powerful.

Friends, we might look like United Methodists, but a little deeper under the cover of our identity, we are incredibly complicated. We are men and women, people of all sorts of shades of skin, languages, eye colors, theological perspectives, ideas, gifts, skills, ages…

I need you.  All of you. And together, God wants us to be amazing.