Story: Stone Soup (in the liturgy, we acted it out together in the sanctuary – kinda fun. This version of the story is reprinted from https://foodgrainsbank.ca/resources/story-stone-soup/)
Once upon a time, a wise old man decided to go on a journey. So he packed a small bag, said goodbye to his wife, and set off. He traveled all day without meeting anyone. When it was evening, he came to a small village. “I think I’ll stop here for the night,” he said to himself.
Near the centre of the village, he met a group of people. So he introduced himself. “I’m a simple traveler,” he said, “looking for a safe place to sleep and a hot meal.”
“We’d be glad to offer you a place to sleep,” the villagers told him, “but we have very little food. Our crops were very poor this year, and there’s not much to eat in the whole village. Most of us are just barely getting by.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” the old man said. “But you needn’t worry about feeding me. I already have everything I need. In fact, I was thinking of making some stone soup to share with all of you.”
“Stone soup?” the villagers asked. “What’s that? We’ve never heard of stone soup.”
“Oh,
it’s wonderful,” said the old man. “Best soup I’ve every tasted. If you bring
me a soup pot and some water, I’ll make some for all of us.”
And so the villagers rushed back to their homes. When they returned, one was carrying a large soup pot, another had wood for a fire, and others brought water.
When the fire was going and the water had begun to boil, the old man took out a small silk pouch. With great ceremony, he reached in and pulled out a smooth, round stone. He carefully dropped the stone into the boiling water. The villagers watched eagerly. The old man began to slowly stir the pot, sniffing the aroma and licking his lips in anticipation. “I do like a tasty stone soup,” he said. “Of course, stone soup with cabbage—now that’s really special.”
“I might be able to find a bit of cabbage,” one villager said. And off she went to her house, returning with a small cabbage she had stored away in her pantry. “Wonderful!” said the old man, as he added the cabbage to the pot. “This reminds me of the time I had stone soup with cabbage and a bit of salted beef. It was unbelievably good.”
After a moment of silence, the village butcher spoke up. “I know where there’s a bit of salted beef,” he said. And off he went to his shop to get it. When he returned, the old man added the beef to the soup pot and continued to stir.
“Can you imagine what this soup would taste like if we had a bit of onion…and perhaps a few potatoes…and a carrot or two…and some mushrooms. Oh, this would be a meal fit for royalty.”
And before he knew it, the soup pot was filled to the brim with vegetables of all kinds— carrots and potatoes, mushrooms and onions, turnips and green beans, beets and celery—all brought by the men and women and children of the village. Not only that, but the village baker came out with some fresh bread and butter.
And as the soup simmered slowly over the fire, the wonderful aroma began to waft over the villagers. And they began to relax and talk together, sharing songs and stories and jokes.
When the soup was finally done, the old man ladled it out into bowls, and they all shared a delicious meal together. There was more than enough for everyone to eat their fill. Afterward, they all declared that it was the best soup they had every tasted. The mayor of the village pulled the old man aside, and quietly offered him a great deal of money for the magic stone, but the old man refused to sell it.
The next morning, he woke early and packed up his belongings, and went on his way.
Reading: Luke 16:5-10
Jesus is talking with his disciples about what it means to follow him in real life and in the real world. In the world, people hurt other people, community breaks down and sometimes is even torn apart, relationships get broken. And Jesus says those who follow him are called to make a difference for good in the ways that they can. The disciples feel overwhelmed and under-equipped for the job.
The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!"
He replied, “If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it will obey you.
"Suppose one of you has a servant plowing or looking after the sheep. Will he say to the servant when he comes in from the field, ‘Come along now and sit down to eat’? Won’t he rather say, ‘Prepare my supper, get yourself ready and wait on me while I eat and drink; after that you may eat and drink’? Will he thank the servant because he did what he was told to do? So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.’”
Reflection
We have a mulberry tree growing in our garden, and we are all gathered somehow under its branches. That’s not news. Everybody is under some kind of mulberry tree.
The news is that ours right now seems to be one of the bad ones. There are different kinds of mulberry trees. One species bears fruit that’s sweet and nutritious. Another, bears fruit that’s bitter and completely inedible. And doesn’t it seem lately that we’ve been getting a lot of bitter things to chew on.
I just think of the people of this congregation. The number who are aging, and struggling with increasing illness and mobility issues. Delayed surgeries, and surgeries that were not as successful as hoped for in restoring folks to good health, and the level of activity and the enjoyment of life that they used to have.
People with ongoing crises in their families, in the lives of loved ones – children and grand-children. People bereaved and alone. People feeling alienated and forgotten, even after the pandemic lockdowns have been lifted.
And even in our little corner of the world, we’re not immune to the shocks and sorrows of the world beyond us. Some of our members have personal connection and investment to Ukraine, and share in the grief and anxiety of people there. Many of our members have family in the Maritimes – in Nova Scotia, Cape Breton, PEI and Newfoundland, and we scan the news to see how they are doing after Fiona. We also hear of Hurricane Ian causing similar havoc and destruction in Cuba, Florida, and the southeastern coastal areas of the States.
We have connections in the UK – family living in the midst of economic disaster, and facing deep personal problems as well. And which of us haven’t been touched by the death of the Queen and the state of the monarchy? And closer to home, the deep community tragedy and trauma in James Smith Cree First Nations. And so many other ongoing issues and traumas and inter-generational brokenness among the First Nations.
Somehow a bitter-fruited mulberry tree has taken root in our garden, and we all live under it. Its fruit is bitter, and its shadow is large.
When a mulberry tree takes root and grows, it dominates the space it’s in. It makes the growth of other good things we want, difficult. Left unchecked, its roots can undermine the foundation of anything we try to build near it.
And, the worst news of all, it’s hard to dig out and get rid of. The roots grow deep and go wide. They take over the soil. And no matter how hard you work at digging them out, it seems the tree – the very thing you want to get rid of, always comes back.
Does it seem sometime that there’s never any end of sorrow, or anxiety, or grief?
It’s enough sometimes to make us think of just leaving where we are, and going to find an easier place to live. A place without bitter mulberry trees to deal with. Florida, maybe? Except, no, they surely have their own share of bitter fruit on all kinds of levels. Somewhere up north, away from the GTA? But is there really anywhere on Earth these days that insulates and isolates you from the issues of the day?
So maybe Mars. I’ve been astounded – but I guess we shouldn’t be, at the plans of Elon Musk and a few other billionaires to create escape routes for themselves to the Red Planet. I wonder, though, how many bitte mulberry seeds and seedlings they’ll be taking with them.
So, what do we do?
In and through Jesus, we see God's concern and deep desire about living well the life we are given here, and serving the well-being of all life on Earth, and Jesus says that faith – even faith as small as a mustard seed – maybe especially faith as small as a mustard seed, is all that’s needed to deal with the bitter mulberry trees in our garden and in our lives. What does he mean by that?
I read something just yesterday that may shed sone light. It was an online reflection by Trish Stefanik, director of the Overlook Retreat House at the Dayspring Ecumenical Retreat Centre in Germantown, Maryland. She writes:
“I have been pondering what it means to have faith. To cultivate a life where I listen with [my] heart and [act out the belief] that my life is meant to bear witness to Love. [That] each of us [is] born to be a unique expression of divine goodness, beauty, and truth, and to join [together] in God’s work of shalom for peace and wholeness. A tall order. No wonder the disciples in the gospel this Sunday say to Jesus, “Increase our faith!”
“This has been my cry many times as I face the enormity of challenges in my backyard and the world. I am aware of my very real human limitations … But I also know that to practice good faith I must move aside the doubt and feelings of not-enoughness… I must lean into my spiritual heart and do what I can to be faithful [taking time, maybe, to listen to another’s sorrow; reaching out with a helpful hand; offering a prayer for peace and comfort; sending over a pie to a neighbour in need; donating to the Food Bank; sending a sympathy card to James Smith Cree First Nation … who knows what little thing our heart may tell us to do], trusting that in the big picture God’s got this. Remarkably, being honest about my limitations opens me to my greatest potential in God.
“Our friend Kayla McClurg said it well: ‘Jesus reminds us that we are not the masters of God’s purposes, but the servants. We have enough faith to do what is ours to do, to [do the little things that matter, and let God, in and through us all, put the pieces together in a good way]…”
And when we do – when we do our little part, in communion under God, with others doing their little part, what Jesus says is true. The bitter mulberry tree no longer defines the garden, when what we do is gather at a table underneath it, and share together day by day the feast of God’s love.
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