The Bread of LIfe

2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33

Ephesians 4:25 - 5:2

John 6:35-51

         As we look at the passage from John for today I am struck with a basic difference between the people that Jesus was speaking to and us.  We, in this congregation, are a people who do not worry about where our next meal is coming from.  We know that we will eat, often; and enough, sometimes more than enough.  So those words that we hear today, “I am the bread of life…(followed by words referencing the manna that fed the Israelites when they were truly struggling to find food in the desert, and then continuing): I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”  These words promising bread that will enable Jesus’ hearers to eat, to not go hungry, to live – these words don’t have nearly as much impact on people who are comfortable and who have enough to eat, as they did for those who were not always assured of where their next meal was coming from. 

For people who were hungry, these words were promising another day of living; but more, they were promising a life freed from the anxiety of worrying about their next meal, or the next or the next.  It promises that with Jesus’ sacrifice, life is abundant, everlasting, eternal – and again, without hunger, without craving, without emptiness and without fear.  We understand these words to be about something much bigger than fulfilling hunger. We understand that the life Jesus was promising was not the daily life that we live. He spoke in parables, in metaphors and here he is not talking about physical hunger. Still, in a place, within an experience, where life is so fragile, so precarious, so short, and so full of the fear and reality of hunger, a promise of everlasting bread spoke to Jesus’ hearers so much more than it possibly could for any who have not suffered shortage of food.

Sarah Miles, in her book Take this Bread, said, “it’s the really hungry who can smell fresh bread a mile away.  For those who know their need, God is immediate – not an idea, not a theory, but life, food, air for the stifled spirit and the beaten, despised, exploited body.”  That is what is offered in communion, in this last supper, in the sacrament of that meal.  We are offered food, yes, but more we are offered life, we are offered God’s presence here in this meal.  Sarah Miles continued, “What Jesus offered was a radical…love that accompanied people in the most ordinary actions – eating, drinking, walking, and stayed with them, through fear, even past death.”  She connects all of this with Jesus’ call and command to Peter…She said, “I couldn’t stop thinking about another (Biblical) story: Jesus instructing his beloved, fallible disciple Peter exactly how to love him:  ‘Feed my sheep.’  Jesus asked, “Do you love me?”  Peter fussed, “Of course I love you.’  “Feed my sheep.”  Peter fussed some more.  “Do you love me?” asked Jesus again.  “Then feed my sheep.”  It seemed pretty clear.  If I wanted to see God, I could feed people.”  We talked about this last week: somehow that act of feeding others, and allowing others to feed us, connects us to God in a way that is hard to explain, but deeply profound.  God IS the bread of life.  Jesus exemplifies that for us, but also calls us to share that bread of life with one another.  This is both metaphoric and literal.  Feeding others, making sure others have enough to eat, to live: both at a physical level and at a spiritual level: that is what we are called, most deeply to do.  What do others need that we have?  And what are the ways in which we are called to share that, every single day?  This is what stewardship is about.  We are entrusted with God’s resources in order to share them, to make sure that all have what they need.  And again, this extends far beyond food: education, well-being, health care, companionship, the right to live free of fear from violence or persecution.  These are not things we have earned: these are graces, lent to us by God so that we might share them with others.  Nothing we have is ours.  All of it is God’s.  And our call, always, is to share our bread, share our resources, share God’s gifts with those most in need of them.

Those who are fed by God, not by daily food, necessarily, but by God, those people, no matter how poor they are themselves, those people find within them the strength and gift of feeding others. Greg Mortensen begins his book, The Three Cups of Tea by recounting his story of finding himself in an impoverished Pakistan village after a failed attempt to climb K2.  He was exhausted, he was sick, and yet these poor strangers fed him, cared for him.  The story continues, “(Mortensen) took a bite of warm chapatti dunked in lassi, wolfed all that he’d been served, and washed it down with sugary tea.  Sakina laughed appreciatively and brought him more.  If  Mortensen had known how scarce and precious sugar was to the Balti, how rarely they used it themselves, he would have refused the second cup of tea.”  The story goes on to explain how he had also been given by them their best blankets, their best food, their best everything, things they had so little of, things they did not use for themselves.  They found in the midst of their physical poverty, but their spiritual wealth, that they had this to share.  And they began it all with “communion” – with sharing the food of life with this stranger.  Those who find their fulfillment from God always find that they have something to share, no matter what they lack.

There is a story about a young student who had to be away from his fiancée for a few months as she travelled overseas to do peace work.  This was agony for him, to be so separated from his love.  He was sad and depressed.  He was on a bus traveling back to school, and the bus stopped at the Greyhound station, a rather dreary place.  He sat down on an unraveling, revolving seat at a dirty counter.  The counter was U-shaped, so he found himself sitting across from an old woman.  She saw him and said, “Honey, you sure do look depressed.”  He said, “I am, and before he knew it, he was crying.  The woman reached across the counter to pat his cheek with a dirt-under-the-fingernail hand and he pulled back when he saw it.  She simply asked, “What’s wrong, honey?” and he told her about his fiancée, and how much he loved her, and how much he missed her.  He showed the woman her picture.  The woman said, “Oh, I’ve never seen such a beautiful young woman.”  Then she began to tell him that she had been married to a traveling salesman who had since passed away.  And she related how they used to weep, both of them, each time he had to go away, but how happy they were when he returned.  She said, “You’re going to have a wonderful marriage.  Everything’s going to be fine.”  Then she suggested that he might feel better if he had something to eat, so she ordered a donut from under the scratchy plastic.  And the woman took the donut, broke it, and she gave it to him.  As she did, an announcement came over the loudspeaker and she said, “O my goodness!  My bus is here.”  And she disappeared.  Only then were his eyes opened and he recognized the visitation, God’s presence, in the breaking of the donut.

Again, in that need, and in the feeding, the fulfilling, the answering of that hunger, both physical and emotional, God was recognized.  In food, in the fulfilling of hunger God fulfills deeper needs.  God is present in this food, in this meal and God fills us. 

A Facebook acquaintance posted this story: "When I go through a drive-thru the person taking my order says something like, "does that complete your order?" I always respond by saying, "unless you would like me to buy you something." Usually they will giggle and say they appreciate it, but decline. The young lady today asked, "are you serious?" I told her to add her meal to my order. When I got to the window, there was this young lady with tears streaming down her face. She thanked me profusely and began to tell me her story. Folks, you never know what others are going through. The people taking your order at the fast food place are often working 2-3 jobs just to get by. This young lady was working 3 jobs, pregnant, and was evicted from her apartment yesterday. She now lives in her car. All this info because I bought her a salad ... yes, she ordered herself a salad. When we take time to be kind to one another, we open up the possibility of connecting with people. I'm not sharing this story to hear accolades. I'm sharing it in hopes you will step out of your comfort zone and dare to be the kind, connectional person God created you to be. Who knows ... you may just be the image of God that person needs at that moment. That's worth the $6 and 45 minutes I spent with her... yes, I had lunch with her and gave her lots of community resources to connect with." 

As I read that story, I found myself thinking that it was not just the young woman who was fed by this exchange.  The person who posted the story was fed too: God is in those meals, God is with us whenever we offer our gifts to share with others.

There is a poem I’d like to share with you called the “enough” poem.  It reads:

I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how gray the day may appear.

I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more.

I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.

I wish you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger. 

I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.

I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.

I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good- bye. (Credited to Bob Perks)

In our wants, in our needs, in our pain, in the hungers that fill our lives – hunger for bread, for connection, for comfort, for ease of pain or grief or sorrow – in those hungers Jesus comes to us and offers himself – his very being to fill this our hunger, to feed our needs, to fill our desires, to fill our hopes and dreams and deepest yearnings to connect to LOVE.  As we eat our meals today, with one another or separately, may our eyes be opened to seeing God with us in this meeting of our basic needs, to tasting the goodness of everlasting life and love.  May we be fed in the breaking of the bread, and may we meet Jesus anew in the fulfillments of the hungers of ourselves and those around us.  Amen.

Communing with God

2 Sam. 11:26-12:13a

John 6:24-35

When we look at the bigger context of today’s gospel reading we see it as follows: Jesus has been healing the sick.  Then he performs the miracle of feeding the 5000.  Then Jesus walks across the water towards the disciples.  All of that directly precedes today’s story. What happened in the passage we read for today?  The disciples, and the people, literally “the crowd” are looking for Jesus.  When they find him he says that they are looking for him, following him, not because of what he has said and not even because of the “signs” he has given, but because he has fed them and they are filled, they are satisfied.  Jesus acknowledges that being filled is very important. It is so important that people work hard for it.  They are also willing to follow and want to be led by someone who will fill them, who will feed them.  But, he says, they are focused on having their bodies fed.  They are not focusing on what will really satisfy them, really bring them peace and wholeness, which is seeking after spiritual bread, after truth, after relationship with God, after following in the way, which is Jesus himself.  That is what will really fill them, but they can’t seem to change their focus from that of getting basic physical needs met. 

That is the central focus on today’s text. But as I sat with this text there was a sub story, related but not the focus, that really stood out for me.  And that has to do with the next part of the story.

After all of this: after hearing what Jesus says to them, after being told what they really want is to be satisfied and not with just physical bread but the bread of life: after they have been miraculously fed and after Jesus has walked on the water and after all of the healings he has performed, then this outrageous thing happens and they then ask Jesus for a sign!  Apparently, they’ve forgotten all the signs he has just produced.  Or perhaps they simply weren’t satisfied with the healings, they weren’t satisfied with the feeding of the thousands, they weren’t satisfied with him walking on the water.  They don’t want to have to do anything except be fed, be healed, be attended to.  And so, when Jesus asks them to do something in return, when Jesus asks them to follow him, they want proof, more proof, that this effort on their part will lead to them continuing to be fed, to be healed to be attended to.  They ask for another sign.  They point to Moses saying, “well, he fed us manna, so give us a sign so we can believe.”  (again, obviously what they are really asking for is a very specific sign: they want Jesus to feed them again).  But Jesus corrects them saying that Moses didn’t do that, God did that.  And that Jesus is there to feed them, is feeding them, has been feeding them: but at this moment, not in the way that they want to be fed, are demanding being fed. 

I think this is the key point here, actually.  They want to never be hungry again, physically.  They want to be fed in a way that makes them feel safe, physically.  They want to be shown that they will never suffer again, never hunger again, never be in need again.  And when Jesus says, “I am the bread of life, whoever comes to me will never hunger again,” they are still thinking in terms of physical hunger, physical bread, physical needs being met. 

We still do this.  We all want life to be physically easier, to be smoother.  We don’t like to suffer, and we don’t like to see others suffer, especially people we love.  So we, too, beg and plead for something different, for a bread that will satisfy us always, without us needing to do anything.  We want to be children, taken care of.  More, we want a Santa Claus God whose job and role is that of answering our every need, but also our every wish. 

And what this shows me, what this says to me, what should be obvious looking at today’s culture and at the world and into our own hearts as well, is that people have a hard time believing. They have an even harder time committing to their faith and to living that out.  They have a hard time trusting in their faith, trusting in God, trusting in what they’ve even been experiencing through these miracles.  They’ve been given signs.  They’ve been fed.  They’ve heard the Word of God spoken again and again, and yet they still ask for more proof, more feeding, more signs. They still struggle to believe in a God who loves us beyond our imagining but also calls us into action.  They want to believe in a God who will feed them constantly like a mother bird, without them needing to do anything. But they struggle to do so.  They need constant reassurance. And because of that, no matter what Jesus did, they would ask for more: more signs, more feeding, more proof. 

Frederick Buechner, in his book “Wishful Thinking” speaks eloquently for us in his essay on faith when he says, “I can’t prove the friendship of my friend.  When I experience it, I don’t need to prove it.  When I don’t experience it, no proof will do.  If I tried to put his friendship to the test somehow, the test itself would queer the friendship I was testing.  So it is with the Godness of God.”

He continues, “The five so-called proofs for the existence of God will never prove to unfaith that God exists.  They are merely five ways of describing the existence of the God you have faith in already. Almost nothing that makes any real difference can be proved.  I can prove the law of gravity by dropping a shoe out the window.  I can prove that the world is round if I’m clever at that sort of thing - that the radio works, that light travels faster than sound.  I cannot prove that life is better than death or love better than hate.  I cannot prove the greatness of the great or the beauty of the beautiful.  I cannot even prove my own free will; maybe my most heroic act, my truest love, my deepest thought, are all just subtler versions of what happens when the doctor taps my knee with his little rubber hammer and my foot jumps.

“Faith can’t prove a ...(darned) thing.  Or a blessed thing either.”

There is something very human in a desire for some kind of “proof” at times of God’s presence.  There is something very human in a desire to know for sure that Jesus is God’s son.  There is something deep within us that wants God to shout out in clear and concrete terms what we are supposed to do and be with our lives, what God wants for us in each moment.  There is something very human in this deep desire to be fed, cared for, taken care of, without needing to give and serve and trust in order to experience that satisfaction and fullness.  And some of the time, at least, we probably feel that the signs God does give just aren’t clear enough.

In reflecting on the nature of signs and presence and feeding in our lives, I was reminded of the movie “Bruce Almighty.”  He’s driving down the road demanding, insisting on a sign from God.  He passes a sign that says “caution ahead” which he ignores.  He prays more and begs with even more insistence for a sign.  He sees another sign, “turn back!”  which he also ignores.  He crashes into a pole and gets out of the car cursing and yelling at God to answer him!  To respond to him!  And then his pager goes off.  We know the person paging Bruce is God, but Bruce doesn’t know that.  Instead, he takes the pager and yells at it, “Don’t know you.  Wouldn’t call you if I did.”  And we are left both laughing but also reflecting seriously on the truth of that.  He didn’t see God when God was right there, answering his prayers, responding to his pleas, even calling him and asking him to listen.  He didn’t know God.  He didn’t call the God who is real, who exists, who is not Santa Claus, just there to dole out what we believe we need at any moment.  And if he had known this God, Bruce probably would not have called on that God. “Don’t know ya.  Wouldn’t call you if I did” was all too accurate a statement from this man begging for a sign.

But while it is entertaining for those of us watching the movie to see how blind and unaware Bruce is to God’s presence and direction for his life, we have signs in our own life as well.  For us too, these signs are not always so easy to discern.  We are each given and we each use eyes that are sometimes foggy as we look for God in our world.  These visions and insights into God’s will for us change depending on our gifts, our moods, our circumstances.  What you and I fail to see may be obvious to those around us.  What you and I do see as signs of God’s presence may completely elude others.

 There is a person in my life whom I am very close to.  We’ve known each other forever, and have been close for a long time.  In our adult lives, we share a dedication to education, we both have a love and interest in psychology (one of my majors was psychology, she has a PhD in psych).  Our children are near the same age and we share a similar parenting style.  Politically we are in a similar place and we tend to agree on almost every issue of real importance.  But this person is also different from me and especially so in one area.  This person I will call Jane is an atheist, as devout an atheist, I believe, as I am a Christian.  She cannot understand why I believe in God when to her, science, chance, luck can explain the Universe and everything within it.  To her my faith is nothing more than superstition, and, I believe she would say, an unhealthy superstition at that.  In answer to her questions about how I can possibly believe in a God, I really have only my experience as an answer.  There is no book and there are no signs which I can offer her which she cannot answer with some historical, scientific or rational explanation.  And yet, there are no experiences that I can recall in which I do not see God’s presence, see God’s hand, see God’s sign.  I experience God’s presence in the extraordinary, but perhaps even more so in the ordinary.  I experience signs of God’s presence and love in the very things which she experiences as scientific and mundane. 

What signs would make her believe?  If the world were to crumble tomorrow and angels and devils jump out of the earth, I doubt that these would be signs enough for her of God’s existence.  While for me, if I never were to experience a “miracle” again in my life, I would still see the signs of God’s presence and care all around me.  We see the world and God’s signs differently.  That doesn’t mean though that there aren’t times when I too find myself wanting, needing, even asking for a sign of God’s will for my life.

God understands us and accepts us as we are in all our humanity.  God knows that we are people who are unsure.  God knows that even the most blatant signs are sometimes hard for us to see, and that we cannot help but ask for them once in a while.  And so, while Jesus seems to scold those who could not simply trust and believe, Jesus also gave the signs that were asked for.  And Jesus did feed them.  I want to say that again because all of us need to hear it.  God does not reject our need for signs, or our need to be fed, but gives them in spite of the fact that what God wants for us is for us to focus on spiritual hunger, on our need to eat more fully of things beyond food.  In today’s passage, Jesus does remind the disciples of his feeding miracles.  Jesus did appear to Thomas and encouraged him, not only to see, but to hear, to touch, to experience the risen Christ to ease his doubt.

In light of this what are we to do? Jesus proclaims himself to be the bread of life.  He also proclaims himself to be the way and he declares that any who would come, who would seek out this bread of life, must be willing to take up his/her own cross to follow. We experience this bread of life, we experience the wholeness God wants for us, we feel what it is to be truly filled when we are communing with God, when we are doing what God asks us to do, when we are following on the way.  And while there are many ways to do that – sitting in beautiful settings such as this one, meeting with others who are faithful, experiencing an incredible sunset, I think we need to take what Jesus says about this very seriously.  He invites us to be fed by following him in his actions.  And those actions, that WAY, is one of loving one another, especially the oppressed, the displaced, those without justice, those without compassion, those without food.  We are not called to be people who simply sit at Jesus’ feet and beg for more signs and more bread.  We are called to be disciples and it is in being disciples that we will find ourselves fed to the core of our beings.

One of the many mission trips my congregation took was to replace the flooring in a mobile home that after one of the storms that hit the Eastern seaboard, had destroyed the roof which then meant the rain and other elements had destroyed the flooring of this woman’s house.  She was extremely poor.  She was extremely bitter.  For the first day that we were there, she watched us work while she sat on her porch smoking and complaining.  She complained about her neighbors, she complained about how unfairly life had treated her, she complained about what we were doing – (that doesn’t look perfectly matched, I don’t like that color, I’m sure I’d picked something a darker shade of brown).  We encouraged everyone to listen because we felt sure that the most important part of our mission work was not just the flooring, but seeing people, hearing people, treating them as the children of God they really were.  The listening opened a door, but it was a small crack.  The change came, though, when she offered us something to drink and made us all some lemonade.  I know that sounds strange, it sounds odd, it sounds tiny.  One of our folk didn’t want to take the lemonade from her because “we were there to serve her” but we just emphasized that accepting hospitality was as important as giving it.  And what we saw was nothing less than amazing.  In allowing her to serve us, we did several things.  First we equalized the playing fields.  We became people who were serving each another.  Second, it gave us a pause in our work to sit and really talk with her – an equal exchange of stories, in which we all saw that there are blessings and challenges for every life.  That act of drinking together, which eventually became eating together, sharing a meal of care, of service, of faith became an opportunity to see the face of God in one another. 

Jesus fed people.  He also allowed others to feed him: giving the woman at the well the opportunity to give him water, allowing the sinful woman to wash his feet with her tears and hair, (Luke 7:36-50).  Those who were most in need were not just cared for, but were allowed to give care as well.

When we want to be fed, it might be well to ask ourselves how we might feed others.  It is in this exchange – in this communing with God, that we are truly fed.  And it is in truly being fed, that we find our proof of God.  Einstein said, “There are only two ways to live your life: as though nothing is a miracle, or as though everything is a miracle.”  God is all around us, just waiting to be seen.  The best way to see God is to serve and love God’s people.  Amen.

Matthew 25: feeding the people

Exodus 16:4-31

Matthew 4:1-11

Matthew 25:31-46

            This lent we will be doing a series during worship focused on Matthew 25, along with related passages.  I want to begin this series by providing an overview, but also by looking at the first of Jesus’ instructions in the passage – that of feeding the hungry.  The bottom line of Matthew 25 is, very simply, "When you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me".  Whatever it is – when you do it to the least of God’s children, of God’s people, you do it to Jesus himself. 

John Buchanan said it this way, “Jesus said it: profound, radical words. Every day I walk by half a dozen people, poor people, asking for money. Recently it was a family—a mother and three children. Another man said, "I just had surgery and I'm hungry," as he lifted his T-shirt to reveal an ugly surgical scar. "Come in," I said, "our social service center will help you." He swore. "I don't need their help; I need money." Matthew 25 makes me very uncomfortable when I think about it much. I cannot help everyone. I do not have either the money or the time. Besides, who can tell who is really needy and who simply wants a bottle of cheap wine? What can I do?”

            I think it is helpful to put this in the context of the other two scriptures that were read for today.  In the first story, from Exodus, we are shown a God who gives all that we need in each moment.  God gave enough manna for the Israelites to eat in each day.  No more, no less, except on the 6^th day when they were then allowed to collect more so that the Sabbath day would be a day of genuine rest, another gift of abundance from God.  In the midst of the desert, in the midst of the hardship, there would not only be enough to eat, but there would also be rest, each week, from the struggles, from the hardship.  We are offered the same promises.  This is a story about who God is and how God is and God offers to us the same.  Enough.  We have enough.  And in the midst of the hardship we are also given rest from the labors of the calls God asks us to do.  This is hard to trust.  It is hard to believe that if we start doing God’s work, we will find rest.  And it is hard for us to trust that we will have enough.  But we are called to have faith that when we respond to God’s call, in this case, to God’s call to give to the hungry, to see the “least of these”, to treat each person with respect and dignity, that there will be enough for us, too.  For myself, I find this to be amazingly true. When I am generous, especially with the church and with the poor, I find I have enough.  It is the years when I am less generous that I also find myself struggling to make end’s meet.  And while this is not a stewardship sermon, I find this consistently to be true.  When I was only making $400 a month in college, but giving half of it to the poor, I lived comfortably on that $200 a month.  When I fail to tithe, I struggle to pay the bills.  God only knows why this happens but it does. 

I’ve told this story before but it is worth repeating.  Dorothy Day, founder and organizer of the Catholic worker shared similar stories of times when their house community, a community built for the purpose of and dedicated to serving the poor and destitute in and around them, would be on its last penny.  Time and again they would spend that last penny on whoever came to them for help because Dorothy and the workers had faith that the needed money would always come.  And come it did.  On one such occasion the electric bill had to be paid and there was no

money at all in the house.  The bill was for $9.57, not much now, but a lot at the time.  The power company said that the electricity would be turned off if the bill was not paid by the end of the day.  So everyone in the house began to pray. At 4:30 that afternoon, the mail arrived and within it was a check – for $9.57, enclosed with a note apologizing for the odd amount and stating that the donor had found that much on the sidewalk and had felt called to send it to the Catholic Worker community.  God provides enough, when we are faithful and giving, God provides enough.

            But while we give generously through organizations such as Monument Crisis Center, community meals, heifer project, etc., I think we are also afraid to help, especially those on the street or those we encounter in unfamiliar or uncomfortable situations – those who wander in off the street into our places of work or who approach us while we may feel “trapped” pumping gas or waiting for the bus.  We are afraid that if we give to those who ask, that they will just come back and ask for more.  We are afraid that we won’t have enough.  We are afraid that our resources will be tapped out.  We are afraid of how they will use “our” money.  We are afraid they don’t deserve our help and that we are being used and conned and that we will only make things worse by allowing them to become more dependent on us. I, at times, have felt afraid that if I take the time to talk to someone on the street or even someone who comes to the church asking for help that I will be trapped into listening to an elaborate but untrue story.  We are afraid, and for good reasons. 

But here’s the thing: Jesus did not say, “When you did it to the least of these WHO are deserving, you did it to me” or “when you did it to the least of these WHO are being honest with you about what is going on with them that you did it for me”. He didn’t say, “Do it for the least of these WHO have been checked out by the larger community and are found to be genuinely in need.” Or “when you did it for the least of these who will not spend it on alcohol or drugs.”  There were no qualifications on any of this. None. The only criteria here was “when you do it the least of these” – when you are giving, when you are generous, when you are loving, when you take time to listen and hear and care for those who ask for help: for the downtrodden, those who are poor, those who are weak, those who are dependent, those who are needy, those who must resort to begging… and especially children, then you are doing it for Christ.  We are called to look, to see, to not ignore – to look into the human faces of all of these people, no matter who they are or how they spend their money or time, what stories they weave or how they go about asking for help, to look at them, and to see there in those faces we fear and distrust the most, the face of Jesus, the face of the Christ, because he has told us that this is where we will find him, again and again, in these people, in the “least” of these people. 

And then we are given the story of the manna, the promise that what we need for today, especially when we are listening and obeying God, will be enough.  We will find enough if we choose to give, as God asks us to give, to the “least of these.”  That is a promise we can count on.  It is when we hoard and try to store up for ourselves, like the Israelites tried to store the manna, that we find ourselves struggling and in danger of falling.  When we are generous, when we are trusting, when we are obeying and following God, we will find there is more than enough.  MORE than enough.

            In the temptation of Christ passage that was read for today, we are told that humans do not live by bread alone.  Normally we focus on how this means that we cannot just search for material gain and neglect the spiritual. But today, I challenge all of us to think about this as encouraging us again to be generous. We must live by God’s love and God’s law. God’s love tells us that we will have enough.  And God’s law tells us we are called, therefore, from that place of love and abundance, to share it. Living by our own need to hold on to our “stuff” will not lead us into life!  It just won’t.  We cannot live by bread alone.  And if we try, we will find that we aren’t really living. 

            So where is the Good News in this?  The Good News is that this passage from Matthew is more than just a call to us to “be good” and “do right” and care for God’s people.  It is all of that.  But it is also, first and foremost actually, a statement about who God is. And who is God?  Not a remote supreme being on a throne up there above the clouds or out there somewhere in the mysterious reaches of the universe. Jesus tells us, God is here, in the least expected places of human life. God is here, in your neighbor, in the stranger, in the one who needs you, in “the least of these” – the least person you can imagine, the least deserving person you can imagine, the least capable and least prominent and least interesting.  You want to see the face of God? Look into the face of one of the least of these, the vulnerable, the weak, the children.  That is where God is. 

            During lent we walk towards the cross.  And we are called to prepare for that by repenting, by facing our fears, by confronting that within ourselves that does not want to live generously and lovingly. God’s will is clear – seek God.  Seek relationship with God, with Christ. Find God in the “least of these” and you will see God, touch God, know God.  Feed God in these least of these, and you will find yourselves fed in return, fed to fullness and beyond.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

Today's Sermon: Feeding of the 5000

Matthew 14:13-21

     Sometimes things seem overwhelming.  Sometimes we become so used to relying on other people that we don’t see the options until we are forced to be in a leadership position.  We don’t know our strength and our gifts until they are called on.  We sometimes take the easy way out and don’t even see options unless we are the only ones who can.
    I remember a time when my youngest child was just a baby of about 6 months old, my son was 2 and my eldest daughter was 5.  I would not have been winning any parenting awards on that day, and at one point I even considered shipping off at least one of my lovely three children to someone who I knew would be much better capable of managing what I came to think of as my own personal monkey cage.  I had to come expect help on Fridays, but this particular Friday I was completely on my own all day.  The kids had been in rare form; all demanding things in temper tantrum format all afternoon.  By 7:00 I was a stressed out mess.  With Youngest in her bouncy chair, and Eldest in the shower, I was trying to get MIddle dressed for bed.  But when I tried to put his pajama top over his head I was greeted with yet another temper tantrum.  He would not tell me what he wanted, but instead ripped the shirt off and started to scream at the top of his lungs.  At that moment, Eldest called me to help her wash her hair and Youngest decided this was the perfect moment to put in her two cents as well and she started crying like there was no tomorrow.  I explained to Middle that if he was going to fight me I couldn’t help him, I left him in his room, went and picked up Youngest who continued to scream, took her into the bathroom with me to help Eldest with her hair and tried to take a deep breath.  When Middle came running into the bathroom after me, it was all I could do to not snap his head off with a “What is it now?” But instead of crying, or screaming, my two year old boy walked up to me, wrapped his arms around my legs and with a look of deep compassion said very simply, “I’m sorry I was fighting with you, Mama.”  In that moment I saw him again - my little, caring, sweet boy who needed my attention, who needed my love.  Yes, I could give it.  I had reserves that I didn’t even know I had just for him just for then.  Still, that was one day.  Now I am the single mom of these three children every day.  Yes, they are older, but in some ways that brings new challenges as well.  And not only do I manage to have the energy to do it, but I usually enjoy my time with my kids and even manage to laugh and play with them regularly.  I didn’t know I could.  But we can often do more than we think we can.
     When I was in my last year at seminary, I interviewed with a church in AZ to become their associate pastor.  Two members of the nominating committee came up to meet me and spend time with me.  They were planning to spend the night at the seminary and had made arrangements to do so, but when they got to their room, they discovered that the door was locked and they could not get in.  I think before this situation I usually would have been one of the people made helpless by this.  “What are we going to do?  The office is closed.  There won’t be anyone there.  It’s late at night.  I can’t wake anyone up.  What are we going to do?”  But I was in the midst of an interview.  And somehow I knew that this un-premeditated test was going to either make or break the interview for me.  So I took a breath and did some quick thinking.  I thought of the student who helped out in the office and who might be able to help us through this.  This was pre-cell phone days and I didn’t have his phone number, but I did know where he lived.  So we walked over to his house, found he was not yet asleep and that he could help us out and got the two interviewers settled in their dorm room.  I was offered the job.  But more than that, I learned that day that I could do more than I thought I could.
  In the movie, “The Family Man”, Jack is given the opportunity to see what his life would have been if he had chosen a different path at a critical juncture.  At one point he meets the man who in his real life worked under him and who in this different path was now the boss.  And he found that the same man, in different positions, behaved very differently.  When he was the boss, he was powerful and could make decisions and saw things clearly.  But when he was second in command, he was not capable of making decisions, but deferred to the boss on everything.
What are we capable of?  What are we really made of?  What can we do if we have to, if we are forced to, if we must?
      All of these situations remind me of the disciples response to the situation described in today’s gospel lesson.  The disciples don’t know what to do with all these hungry people and they can’t seem to think on their own.  They want Jesus to fix it.  They want Jesus to send everyone away so they won’t have to deal with them.  But Jesus challenges them to think and to take charge.  “No,” he says, “you feed them.”  But still, they don’t want to take on this leadership role, they don’t want to think, they don’t want to use the gifts God has given them.  So at that point they become whiney, “But we only have 5 loaves and 2 fish!” they protest.  They choose not to think for themselves, or to act in this situation.   I can just imagine Jesus giving a heavy sigh of frustration as he takes the food from them.  He does his miracle.  He shows them a different way of being, one that involves trusting God to provide and “acting as if” until the things that are needed become more than just hopes but instead realities.  He shows them that their faith is stronger than they can imagine, and their abilities to rise to any occasion are deeper than they know.
 But do they get it?  Do they then become the people God calls them to be, or do they just continue to look to Jesus to always fix it for them and make things better and stronger?  They continue to rely on Jesus until Jesus is finally gone.  But they have him as a model and when he does leave them, they finally do find their strength and are able to continue to serve God and proclaim Jesus’ Good News to all the people, despite personal danger, despite their human weaknesses.
We are called, like the disciples, like all of God’s people, to be the best, most whole, most faithful and most God-led people we can be.  We are called to feed God’s people and to heal God’s people and to tell the good news of God’s love and grace.  But we get stuck in our “I can’t” thinking, and this is dangerous for all of us.  It is also unfaithful.
Hildegaard de Bingen once said: “A divine voice spoke to me, saying, ‘How fragile you are, Human, made of dust and grime, but I am the living Light.  I make the darkness day, and I have chosen you to see great wonders, though I have humbled you on earth.  You are often depressed and timid, and insecure.  Because you are conscientious, you feel guilty, and chronic physical pain has thoroughly scarred you.  But the deep mysteries of God have saturated you, too, and so has humility.’  When I heard the Voice, I began trying to live a godly life.  The path became difficult as I questioned myself again, saying, ‘This is pointless.’  I wanted to soar. I dreamed impossible dreams and started projects I could never finish.  I became dejected, so I sat and did nothing.  My self-doubt is my greatest disobedience.  It makes me miserable, and I struggle with this cross daily.  But God is by my side, reminding me that he created me.  So, even in the middle of my depression, I walk with wise patience over the marrow and blood of my body.  I am the lion defending itself from a snake, roaring and knocking it back into its hole.  I will never let myself give in to the devil's arrows.”
Marianne Williamson said it this way, “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone and as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give others permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
God calls us to be whole, and to serve out of the gifts we are given.  Let us strive to follow God to the fullest that we might be the most whole People God calls us to be.
I want to end today by sharing with you a prayer called the Knots prayer:
The Knots Prayer
Dear God, please untie the knots that are in my mind,
My heart and my life.
Remove the have nots,
The can nots and the do nots
That I have in my mind.

Erase the will nots,
May nots,
Might nots that may find
A home in my heart.

Release me from the could nots,
Would nots and
Should nots that obstruct my life.

And most of all,
Dear God,
I ask that you remove from my mind,
My heart and my life all of the “am nots”
That I have allowed to hold me back,
Especially the thought
That I am not good enough.
Amen.