You are welcome to use parts of this sermon, but if you do, please attribute them properly!
As
I read our Gospel story for this week, it occurred to me that our Bible
contains a number of tales about food and eating. In the Old Testament, we find the one about
God providing manna (bread) from heaven and quail for the Hebrew people to eat as
they wandered in the desert. In
addition, if you look in the Book of 2 Kings, you will find a passage about
twenty loaves of barley bread that ended up being enough to feed a hundred
men. And those stories are just two of
many examples.
In
the New Testament, we find renditions of the last supper in all four gospels
(Matthew, Mark, Luke and John). Then
there is that delightful little vignette about Jesus meeting his disciples for
a fish breakfast on the beach after the resurrection. In addition, we can also find all sorts of
tales about the numerous occasions when Jesus ate with tax collectors and other
misfits and outcasts. And, of course,
there is the story – the only miracle story found in all four of our gospels,
in fact - of Jesus feeding five thousand people who had gathered on a hillside
outside of the City of Tiberius to hear him preach and teach.
Now,
believe me, these folks spreading out on the grassy slope were not ones you
would go out of your way to hang out with, and Tiberius was no place you would
ever want to call home. Herod Antipas, the current ruler of Galilee, built it
around 15 AD, named it in honor of the Roman Emperor, and designated it as his
capital city.
Most
likely, he expected people to come flocking – all that brand newness. However, no Jew would ever want to live in
Tiberius because Herod had completely ignored deeply held Judaic religious beliefs
and had gone and built the city on top of a sacred burial ground. And who wants to live atop an old graveyard?
However,
Herod, being both a king and a bully, was not to be outdone by mere religion. And since he knew that a city is not really a
city unless people live in it, he forcibly transplanted poor folks from rural
Galilee into his new urban area. Historical
sources also tell us that he populated Tiberius with freed slaves and
criminals.
As
you might expect, the crime rate was really high, and jobs for farmers were mighty
scarce. Food insecurity was a fact of
life, and riots were commonplace.
It is said that when Herod anticipated
violence, he would set up makeshift bread distribution centers to quiet the
rabble. Josephus, a Jewish historian who
wrote in the early 1st century, said that the inhabitants of Tiberias were “a
promiscuous rabble, made up of poverty-stricken people from any and all places
of origin.”
It
was this disenchanted and unemployed bunch, poised to be rabble-rousers at any
moment, hungry on so many levels, that flocked to the hillside near the Sea of
Galilee when they heard that Jesus – the healer, the teacher, the emergent
great hope – had star billing for the afternoon.
They
kept coming and coming and coming – all 5000 of them (and that was just the
number of men, the Gospel writer tells us ) – their eyes dulled from want, their
shoulders drooping from scarcity, their faces pinched with hunger, the bellies
of their children protruding over stick-like legs, a common symptom of those
who are starving.
And
as the mob assembled, Jesus turned to Phillip, one of his disciples, and asked,
“Where can we buy enough food to feed all these people?”
It
was a question meant to stretch Phillip’s faith, and it failed miserably. As United Methodist elder, Scott Knowlton
wrote, “He probably SHOULD have said something like, ‘Well Jesus, I’ve seen you
provide wine at a wedding from water, I know you healed with a word, and while
I don’t want to sound like Satan, is it possible you could turn these stones
into bread? Or is there any chance you could just make some bread
materialize?’”
But
Phillip didn’t. Instead he focused on
the logically obvious: “There is no
place to buy any groceries or provisions,” he declared. “Walmart closed an hour ago. And besides, we simply do not have the money.
That is a fact.”
Because Phillip was a bean counter, he quickly
calculated that it would cost more than two hundred pieces of silver to buy
enough bread for each person to get only a taste – and how ineffectual and
inefficient would that be – and they could not afford to be throwing good money
after bad.
How
unimaginative! How dull! And, under the
circumstances, how faithless! How T.S.
Eliot: “I have measured out my life in
coffee spoons.”
However,
as Phillip was coming up with all the reasons why Jesus’ idea of a picnic would
not work, Andrew started making the rounds of the crowd. There was at least a small part of him that
sure did not know how Jesus would ever pull off this stunt but all the same
thought maybe he could.
Got
any fish? No. Got any bread? No.
Got any fish? No. Got any bread? No. Four thousand nine hundred and
ninety-nine people said no. But one said
yes.
It
was a little boy. He opened his
backpack, reached inside, and brought out five loaves of barley bread – albeit
small ones and somewhat on the stale side - and two fish - not exactly fresh either
but they did not smell too bad.
Like I said, Andrew was pretty sure that the
boy’s lunch would not go very far, but Jesus chose to ignore his frail faith
and started giving directions. “Sit everybody down on the grass and get them
comfortable while I offer a prayer of thanksgiving to God, and then we will
start passing out the picnic fixin’s.”
And
so they did. And afterwards the
disciples picked up twelve baskets of leftovers – twelve baskets! Imagine!
It
was at this point that, with their bellies full, the crowd became unruly. Not because they desired more food but
because they wanted to crown Jesus king right then and there. As Lutheran pastor Brian Malison speculated, “The
problem with miracles is that one is never enough. Clearly the feeding of all
those people with a limited amount of food was amazing. Think of the
possibilities! If we make Jesus king, then we have answered our food shortage
problem. And if he can make food stretch, think what he can do with the budget!
And maybe he has some tricks up his sleeve for what to do with immigration,
national security and jobs!”
Needless-to-say, our rabbi and his disciples made a hasty exit. Jesus headed for the nearby hills. The
disciples retreated to their boat, setting sail for safety away from the shore.
And who knows why what happened next
happened? Maybe the disciples did not
realize that they had left Jesus behind, but suddenly there he was - walking
toward them – on the water – even though they were three or four miles offshore.
Now
this was too much for one day: first all
the food, and now this – miracle heaped on miracle – who was this man of God
they revered so much but who constantly surprised them?
It is no wonder that they were terrified
until Jesus told them: “Don’t be afraid!
It’s me! It’s me! All will be well! It’s me!
Do not worry! All will be well!” And with a sigh of immense relief, they
hauled him into the boat, and so it was.
Even
to this day, it seems that food and spirituality go hand in hand. It is more
than just an ancient Biblical thing too.
For example, did you know that, according to Reformed Church pastor
Scott Hoezee, “in the mid-1800s there was a group of people in America known as
the Millerites–a Christian sect firmly convinced that Jesus would return
sometime late in the year 1843. He didn’t, setting off what was called “the
Great Disappointment.”
At
least some of these folks, however, made the best of the situation by declaring
that as a matter of fact Jesus had returned but that it had turned out to be an
invisible, spiritual advent. Believing themselves to be living in an
already-present millennial kingdom, these Adventists decided that as part of
this new identity they should invent alternative foods as a sign of their not
being fully in this world.
So
one preacher named Sylvester Graham invented a new kind of cracker for his
congregation to eat - yes, the Graham Cracker. Peanut butter was also invented at this
time, as was a variety of cold breakfast cereals, including something called a
“corn flake,” perfected by Adventist devotee John Harvey Kellogg in a spiritual
community located in Battle Creek, Michigan.”
Interesting
factoid for you to take from this sermon – though I believe this story of the
feeding of the five thousand has far deeper, richer, and more profound
implications for us to ponder this morning.
At
the heart of this story lies a contrast in attitudes toward abundance. Phillip personified one attitude, the one
that is all too prevalent in our churches today.
“It’s
not gonna work, Jesus. It’s a bad idea.
Forget it: We will never have
enough to feed this bunch, fund this mission, create this opportunity for
transformation. We do not have enough money, time, energy, or volunteers – not
that we have actually asked anyone other than the usual suspects to do any of
those things, but we just know. It’s not
gonna work, Jesus. It’s a bad idea.”
Philip
was defeated before he even got started – like so many of our struggling
churches are.
He had zero imagination, zero faith in the
power of God to do what seems impossible, zero motivation to take action, to do
something, to start somewhere. Phillip
lived his life in scarcity.
In
contrast, Andrew at least took a stab at solving the problem. Andrew tried to engage the congregation on
the hillside. Sure, 4999 of them said
no, but one said yes – and that was enough to get the ball rolling. That was enough to give Jesus what he needed
to show them just how powerful God was.
That was enough to feed five thousand people and still have twelve
baskets of leftovers. Andrew realized
that you have to start somewhere.
If
Andrew did not live his life in abundance, at least he lived it open to the
possibility of abundance. At least he
lived it knowing that there is no hope for abundance if you do not share what
you have – be it time, talents, or treasures.
That
Phillip and Andrew were a contrast in attitudes in something we might reflect
on as a congregation. And so I ask
you: What is the core attitude of our
church? Abundance or scarcity?
Nestled
close to these attitudes toward abundance in our story is the notion that God
can do great things with even small amounts – like stale bread and not-so-fresh
fish. Perhaps the story might illustrate
for us that God can – and, given the chance, will - use not only the gifts and
strengths that we know we have, but God is also apt to use those parts of us
that are broken and that we have written off as weaknesses.
Blogger
Jonathan Davis wrote, “Sometimes I hear people talk about the way things used
to be for our churches. Back when the church was packed and the offering
plates full. Back when parents didn’t have to make their kids go to
church. They wanted to go to church. But maybe this time in the church
when things are a little uncertain, when the pews aren’t full, when we wonder
if the offering will pay all the bills… maybe that’s rich and fertile soil in
which God can use us to do great things.”
Maybe
it is like God asking us, “So – what do you have to offer?” And we answering, “Nothing really. We are not
big on numbers, and we are running a deficit budget. We are open to your Spirit though and have a
willingness (no, an enthusiasm) to go wherever the Spirit leads – for what that
is worth. But for all intents and
purposes, that is about it.”
To
which God replies, “Fantastic. I can work with that.”
“Here
are my loaves – and a couple of fish,” the boy said. “Maybe they will help.” If you want to do something great, do not sit
paralyzed waiting for the perfect moment – because it will never come. Do something generous - big or small – today. And while you are at it, let that feeling of
abundance, of sharing, of generosity get under your skin and begin to work on you,
for that is how the kingdom will be ushered in.
That is how the world will be transformed – through your imperfect moments
of sharing and your times of generosity and your trust that God can work with
just about anything.
This
story illustrates that God will work with what we care to offer, so we are best
off jumping in and letting the Spirit lead us.
That is something we might reflect on as a congregation. And so I ask you: What is the core motivation of our
congregation? To take action and do something
– no matter how outrageous it seems – or to stay put, paralyzed, waiting for
the perfect moment that will never come?
The
little boy who shared his lunch did not have much. That is for sure. However, he shared all that he had and
trusted that there would not only be enough to go around to the 4999 others,
but that he would have his fair share as well.
You cannot talk about abundance without talking about generosity.
And
so I challenge each one of you this week to have a heart to heart with God and
with yourself about your own generosity and how that impacts your giving to
this church, this place you call your spiritual home. I am not talking about financial giving –
though that should certainly be a part of your conversation.
The
question, however, is not how generous are you but rather how much more
generous could you be. How much more generous could you be with your time and
your energy? How much more generous could
you be with your gifts and talents? How much
more generous could you be with your prayers?
How much more generous and open could you be with your feedback? How much more generous could you be when it
comes to being part of the solution instead of part of the problem – whatever
that problem might be? And perhaps most
importantly, how much more generous could you be with the priority you assign
this church in your own life that is beset by so many conflicting priorities?
You
know, the amazing thing about abundance and generosity, those concepts that lie
at the heart of this miracle story, is that they are concepts that fly in the
face of the faithless, the bean counters, the ones who live their lives in
coffee spoons.
Abundance
and generosity: That we actually have
the potential to live our lives that way is the real miracle in this story, and
its corollary is that abundance leads only to more abundance and generosity to
the same. I know that because, well,
because it all has to do with the leftovers.
When
we as individuals and as a church are committed to living lives of abundance
and generosity, there will always be twelve baskets of leftovers! And just imagine what we can do with
those? As poet and artist Jan Richardson
wrote:
Look into the
hollows
of your hands
and ask
what wants to be
gathered there,
what abundance
waits
among the scraps
that come to you,
what feast
will offer itself
from the fragments
that remain.
From
abundance comes more abundance.
Generosity inspires more generosity.
A little boy’s lunch feeds 5000 people.
Leftovers abound. Now how exciting
is that!
by Rev. Nancy Foran, Raymond Village Community Church, U.C.C., Raymond, Maine
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