So what would you do if I told you that what you do this week could change the world?
In 1963, Edward Lorenz made a presentation to the New York Academy of Sciences and was actually laughed out of the room. His theory, called the Butterfly Effect, stated that a butterfly could flap its wings and set air molecules in motion that, in turn, would move other air molecules–which would then move additional air molecules–eventually becoming able to influence weather patterns on the other side of the planet. For years this theory remained an interesting myth. In the mid 1990s, however, physics professors from several universities, working in tandem, proved that the butterfly effect was accurate, viable, and worked every time.
This, y'all, is pretty cool. What is even cooler, I think is that it can work on a human scale, too.
About a decade ago, a motivational speaker named Andy Andrews wrote a little book called The Butterfly Effect. It was all the rage...probably because it was less than 100 pages and looked nice sitting on a coffee table. Now to be honest, it's a little too syrupy for my tastes, and I read it one day in the doctor's office waiting and waiting and waiting. Like I don't have anything better to do with my time. But I digress.
The point he makes still holds up. In the book he talks about the amazing impact that simple efforts can leave in the world. As good Christians we know this already. But what he also brings up is that so often when you go back and look, you can't really tell which efforts made the biggest difference.
So, Andrews tells the story of Norman Borlaug, a Nobel Prize winner, developed high-yield, disease-resistant grains that are credited with saving billions lives from famine. But shouldn't we, instead, give that credit to Henry Wallace, the one-term U.S. Vice-President, who created an office in New Mexico to develop hybrid seed and hired Borlaug to run it? Maybe we should give credit to George Washington Carver, who took a young Henry Wallace for long walks and instilled in him his love of plants. Or should it be...? Well, you get the idea. Andrews points out how inter-connected our actions are, creating an unforeseen butterfly effect that can ripple across time and space to affect the lives of billions for the better.
Now today in our gospel reading, Simon is just hanging out with the guys. The day is probably hot. They've had a lot to absorb lately what with all the miracles and healing that Jesus has be doing. And they also have some clouds looming on the horizon. They are in Caesarea Philippi, a weird little village in the shadow of the Golan Heights. Except for the tons of busses, I doubt much had changed from then to the time Father Brooks and I were there.
So there Simon sits, and Jesus saunters up and gives them a pop quiz. “Who do you say I am?” And Simon gets it in one: you are the Messiah, the Son of the living God. And as a reward, he gets a name change. And with that name change he gets a mission – church planting.
But I have a suspicion that he didn't jump up and say, “OK, guys, let's get started. We need canons and constitutions. Somebody needs to form a committee that will design the Scrolls of Common Prayer. Does anyone—anyone--know how to build a flying buttress?”
In fact there's no indication that he had any real reaction at all. I like to imagine that he was just sort of puzzled and the day is hot, so maybe knelt down by the little trickle of water that runs off the snow pack in the heights to get a drink. The little trickle of water that meets up with other trickles in the area that feed the of Galilee and the Jordan River...a river giving life to an arid land even back then.
I doubt he knew that he was just like that little trickle of water. A little unsure of his destination, not having any idea what he had in store for himself. Not knowing that in just a short while, he would be hiding in fear for his life. That soon after that he would see a risen Jesus, a risen Christ. That he would help craft and lead a movement. That he would be martyred on a place that would centuries later house one of the world's largest and most beloved Christian centers. That his spiritual descendants would live and love and, even to this day, struggle against the powers of the world, still fighting for justice and liberation and peace. And never imagining that Christians would go from hiding away in a small room centuries ago to making the gospel known world wide.
We don't always do it right. Some days, I'd say that we hardly ever do it right. But we do it. And the way we do it, the stories we tell, the rituals we observe, Simon – Peter – was there when it started, a world changed by the tiny butterfly wings of a man who had no idea what he was about to do.
Who knows? Maybe that's how it works. Maybe if we each tell our story, if we each speak our heart, if we each just beat our wings agains the storm of hatred and bigotry and pettiness and selfishness and violence that seems to be our world today...who knows? Maybe we'll reach a school teacher who will give encouragement to a young adult who will see something in herself that she hadn't before and in turn make friends with another young adult who was on the verge of giving up on life.... Or maybe a young person who sees one of us reach out in love will stand up to a bully this week and not only help a kids being bullied but also the bully, who never had anyone care enough to stand up to him before, and in turn he'll go on to be a police officer who protects the vulnerable and makes us proud.... Or maybe an older person will be moved to volunteer to read to kids online and one of those kids will discover a passion for language and will grow up to be the poet laureate.... Or maybe something one of us says will affect the choice of someone who hadn't been to church in ages but happens to just try zoom for the first time only to discover a calling to preach the gospel. Or maybe....maybe...
Look, the things we do this week -- our actions, decision, choices -- will, in fact, ripple out with consequences for good or for ill, for the health or damage of the world. That question isn't whether, but what...what will we do this week to make a difference in the world. Some of these actions may be big, bold, and courageous, like becoming a martyr in Imperial Rome. Others may be small, hardly noticeable, like taking a life-sustaining sip from a little creek in the mountains. And yet they all have the potential to ripple out, affecting countless lives.
So what would you do if I told you that what you do this week could change the world?