2023.04.30 | Sharing is Caring

“Sharing is Caring”

Acts 2:42-47

Preached by 

Marvin Lance Wiser 

Eden United Church of Christ  

Hayward, CA 

30 April 2023 



“They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers. Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.”

Good morning, Church. How about this warm weather we are having? It’s absolutely gorgeous. I hear it’s quite a bit cooler in Arkansas where Pastor Arlene and Stephanie are right now. Thank God for the sunshine. 

I’d like to especially thank Edith for our mission moment this morning. This is earlier than most years for us to be in our pledge campaign, but there’s something fitting about the season, where all is in bloom and the earth is giving so much to us, for us to think on and reflect how we are to give back to the Creator of the beauty around us. So today, we’re going to spend some time reflecting on give and take. 

How many of you recall reading Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree? I’m sure many of you do as it’s about to reach its 60th anniversary next year. It’s about a tree who loved a little boy. And a boy who loved a tree. He would gather and play in her leaves, he would climb her trunk, and swing from her branches. The boy eventually grew older and didn’t play anymore, but he did harvest her apples, and the tree, well she gave and gave and gave some more. You may recall that as the lad grew into an adult, he made from her wood a house and then finally a boat from her trunk and sailed away, only to eventually return to find a stump to finally sit upon in old age to find a last respite. The tree continued to give, even when there seemed there was nothing left to give. This is the nature of plants. “In some Native languages the term for plants translates to ‘those who take care of us.’” And as some experience, this is the nature of mothers, which is why many refer to nature as Mother Nature, and earth as Mother Earth.  

This classic children’s tale intended for audiences along the entirety of the age spectrum, is worthy of continued reflection, on the nature of giving, but also on our nature of taking. 

Silverstein’s story focuses on a solitary tree acting out its generosity to its ultimate demise, but this morning we will explore how trees work together in unison, to thrive. But before we do, let’s return to our scripture passage. 

In Acts 2 we have the beginnings of church. They were eating meals together in their homes, praising God together, and selling possessions so that they could have things in common. They were a very giving bunch, redistributing wealth seemed a central tenet to living out their faith.  

But didn’t they pay taxes for social programs back in those days? Believe it or not, taxation was generally higher in antiquity than today. But the vast majority of taxes simply filled the coffers back at empire’s center, so care of the needy was not necessarily something that Caesar's administration was going to remedy, despite having the resources. You may be thinking to yourself, Jesus said something about paying taxes, if so, you’re right.   

The only written record that we have of Jesus talking about paying taxes is when he was asked by some pro-Herodian disciples of Pharisee religious leaders, “Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar or not?” To which, Jesus replied, “Give to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s.” Of course, he says this after demonstrating that Caesar’s head is actually imprinted upon the coinage. The subtle take-away being that the monetary economy is imperial, and supports those ends. 

So, if the early church was giving away their possessions, they might have been having more of an impact investment than simply keeping them and paying more taxes to Caesar. They took it upon themselves to take care of the inequitable distribution of resources. This is the notion of communal reciprocity. We recall Jesus flipping the market tables. Communal reciprocity is an anti-market principle according to which I serve you not because of what I can get in return by doing so, but because you need or want my service, and you, for the same reason, serve me. It’s a shift in both intention and means. 

Once everything is given to God and shared, there’s not much left to give to empire. Caesar’s way, or the economy of empire, is to take, take, take with a mentality of “what do I get in return.” The Way of Jesus, is a mindful take and give, give and take, but mostly give, focused in meeting the needs or liquidating the lacks of others. Communal reciprocity and communal generosity. 

Take Pastor Arlene’s camping trip that she shared with us last week. Everyone on a camping trip acts as an ideal egalitarian pitching in and sharing materials, like a potluck. Had someone had a can opener, Marlene and Arlene would have feasted on some pork and beans. Let’s say the hypothetical third person who brought a can opener had acted in a manner asserting their rights over their stuff, it simply doesn’t work. On road trips, while camping, and starting new communities as alternatives to empire, we starve or feast together. Sharing is caring, for others and for self. 

This is the conclusion of the author of Hebrews, trying to make sense of the crucifixion of Jesus, who states that our response to the travesty of empire’s execution should not be vengeance, but “to do good and share what you have” (Heb. 13:16). In the same chapter, the author also exhorts us to “keep your lives free from the love of money.” (Heb 13:5), you know, those coins with the emperor’s head imprinted upon them?  Communal reciprocity and generosity is a way of life that subverts empire. You think multi-Billionaire Jeff Bezos over at Amazon gets excited about local “Buy Nothing” groups on social media? Probably not. But I sure do!

Indigenous mother, scientist, and professor of Environmental and Forest Biology, Robin Wall Kimmerer, asks the daring question, “What does it take to abandon what does not work and take the risks of uncertainty?”

I imagine the early church approached this question with some trepidation. Jesus’ early disciples, sent out two by two, were charged to take nothing with them for their journey except a staff—no bread, no bag, no money in their belts. Perhaps to distinguish between those who answered their door who would live into communal reciprocity from those who were too invested in the economy of Caesar. Business as usual was not working for the majority of people. Meanwhile day by day, as the early disciples spent a lot of time together, they broke bread at their homes and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and centering the goodwill of all the people. And day by day more folks began to take the off-ramp from the economy of Caesar toward a more communal and reciprocal one, a new way, which was actually a very old pre-imperial, pre-colonial way.

Robin Wall Kimmerer, a 2022 MacArthur Fellow, serves as the founding Director of the Center for Native Peoples and the Environment whose mission is to create programs which draw on the wisdom of both indigenous and scientific knowledge for our shared goals of sustainability. Ten years ago she authored the 2013 national bestseller, Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants

Kimmerer states that in Native ways of knowing, rather than humans being the pinnacle or crown jewel of creation, humans are “the younger brothers of Creation.” Therefore we need to learn more from those who have been around longer, the animals and plants. 

Kimmerer draws a contrast with Skywoman Falling, who, with the help of the alchemy of gifts from animals, helped to propagate earth, turning Turtle Island brown to green, with Eve who was exiled from the garden of Eden demonstrating a bruised and abusive relationship with land and the hierarchy of beings. Jesus sought to disrupt such hierarchies. Understood in Native ways of knowing, Land is a gift, not a commodity, and should be enjoyed and cared for communally, not exchanged individually.   

Throughout her book, Kimmerer poignantly and poetically describes many ways in which we can reciprocate the gift that plants give us. One particular essay is entitled the Council of Pecans. Is it Pee-KAHN or PEE-can? Let’s have a vote right here and settle this once and for all. Let’s see a show of hands for Pee-KAHN? And how about PEE-can? Alright, looks like we have a winner. Oh wait, there’s also the dialectical variations of pick-AHN and PEE-kahn. I think diversity is the winner here folks.  Etymologically the word is derived from indigenous languages, wherein it also enjoyed diverse pronunciations. 

Kimmerer shares her family history of being forcibly relocated from the Great Lakes to Kansas and then Oklahoma, and their relationship with pecans, their value as sustenance and symbol of communal reciprocity. 

She highlights the phenomenon of mast-fruiting. Through a process called mast-fruiting, when virtually all individuals in a population of a certain species synchronously produce a bumper crop of seeds, pecan groves give and give and give. Such communal generosity may seem incompatible with the process of evolution, which invokes the imperative of individual survival. But we make a great error, Kimmerer reminds us, when we separate individual well-being from the health of the whole. The gift of the abundance from pecans is also a gift to themselves. By satiating squirrels and people, the trees are actually ensuring their own survival. 

She writes, “If one tree fruits, they all fruit--there are no soloists. Not one tree in a grove, but the whole grove; not one grove in the forest, but every grove; all across the region. The trees act not as individuals, but as a collective. What we see is the power of unity. What happens to one happens to us all. We can starve together or feast together. All flourishing is mutual.” Perhaps this is why Jesus said, “Do this in remembrance of me: break bread together,” ensuring that all feast together, and none starve. 

Now you might be like me and be asking yourselves, “but how do all these groves of trees in an entire region of the country coordinate to mast-fruit?” Well, it is now suspected that trees actually talk among themselves. It was once normative for the scientific community to think that as they did not communicate in the same way as animals, trees simply didn’t communicate at all. But today, more and more botanists are concluding that trees actually do communicate via fungi that connect root systems, which in turn act as messengers, not unlike our own neural networks, thus allowing them to mast-fruit in synchrony. Trees also communicate through pheromones, or scents that they release and are carried by the wind to warn other trees of invading pests, which elicits a defensive response from other trees. Which reminds me of a Creation Psalm, Psalm 104, that states God makes the winds messengers. You know, the ancients knew more than we give them credit for—the burning of the Library of Alexandria still keeps me up at night, oh what ancient knowledges we lost. Anybody with me?

Kimmerer’s ancestors, after many forced relocations, many trails of death, were eventually given citizenship in exchange for surrendering their allegiance to land held in common, and agreeing to the western notion and praxis of private property. This, along with colonial forced assimilation via Indian boarding schools, proved the last death nail for many indigenous tribes by the design of Manifest Destiny. Within a generation-and-a-half the vast majority of Indian Territory had too been “legally” confiscated by white settlers. 

The process by which the Potawatomi decided to exchange their communal land holdings for private property and citizenship was the Pecan Council. Families were divided against one another on what to do with the proposal from the white settlers. Private property mostly ensured no forced migration, no more trails of death, but it also ultimately meant “divided we fall.” With their hands forced and a commitment to choose the path of seemingly less harm, the council forfeited their rights to communal land. And the rest is history. Kimmerer finds irony in the council’s name, the Pecan Council, because she thinks that it failed to listen to the pecan trees during the process, who teach us In Unity Strength. We either all flourish together or starve together. Like the Warriors’ motto, “Strength in Numbers.” Perhaps things would have been different. But even today Mexican Ejidos, or communal lands to the south of us, too are being forcibly dissolved, and Indigenous throughout the Americas continue to be marginalized and forced from their ancestral lands due to “development.” 

Even in the face of these difficulties, nature teaches us that communal reciprocity leads to community resilience. Even right here in the heart of the Bay, we are witness to the beginnings of the Eden Community Land Trust, new ways of being and relating as alternatives to empire. Kimmerer reminds us, “The land is the real teacher. All we need as students is mindfulness.” Jesus too invites us to consider the lilies of the field, the birds of the air. If we have ears to hear, his ancient teachings were not too dissimilar from Native ways of knowing, that “each person, human or not, is bound to every other in a reciprocal relationship. Just as all beings have a duty to me, I have a duty to them.” Recall the Golden Rule? 

Kimmerer exhorts us to live by the “precepts of the Honorable Harvest: to take only what is given, to use it well, to be grateful for the gift, and to reciprocate the gift.” This is all encompassing, and so includes our relationships with land, nature, and each other. So, we are to share together abundantly as we have been given—not go it alone to our own demise as Silverstein’s loving apple tree did, but as Kimmerer’s mast-fruiting pecan trees, giving together, to survive and thrive communally. 

This pledge campaign season, may we come to find that this is a mast year, to match the super bloom Mother Earth is giving us right now. Remember, sharing is caring—for others and for self. Amen.

Blessing: Receive God’s abundance. May you be both warmed and affirmed in receiving God’s light, soothed by wind, nourished by plants, and cuddled by animals this week. In our taking, may we only take what is given, use it well, offer gratitude, and reciprocate, giving back abundantly, so that together we thrive as God intended. Amen. 


Marvin Wiser