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The Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost
August 3, 2008

On the northernmost shore of the Sea of Galilee in Israel in Tabgha, there is a restored basilica, first built in the Byzantine period. Within the church stands the ruins of an even earlier chapel, no bigger than our chancel here at St. Mary’s, built in the 4th century. And within these ruins there is one of the most famous artifacts of the Holy Land. It is a beautiful mosaic of the five loaves and two fish, blessed and multiplied by Jesus in the Miracle of the Feeding of the 5000 we have heard once again from the Gospel of Matthew.

When I first visited Tabgha in 1984, and then again in 1998 and 2000, I was drawn to the obvious wonders of this miracle. In the small, verdant valley, watered by seven springs, I pictured the throng of thousands sitting as far as the eye can see. I imagined Jesus arriving by boat to the edge of the crowd, and the people bringing their sick forward for him to heal. And then, I envisioned Jesus producing supernaturally the great feast, and the awe this must have instilled in everyone who was there.

But in considering the story of the Feeding of the 5000 this time around, it is not the miracle itself that catches my eye. Instead it is the earlier interaction between Jesus and his disciples. Seeing that it was late, and they were far from the nearby towns, the disciples implore Jesus to send the crowds away, to buy food for themselves. Yet in reply, Jesus says, “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.”

“You give them something to eat.” I wonder what this Gospel might mean for us today. I wonder first what it might mean for us as Anglicans. While I have been away on vacation, I have received regular reports from our own Bishops from their meeting in Lambeth with the other bishops of the worldwide Anglican Communion. Bishop Bud wrote: “The love of Jesus Christ, the power of the Holy Spirit, and my relationships with my fellow bishops in these long and challenging days are indeed transforming and filling me with all hope, faith, and love.” Bishop Gale wrote: “Every hour that I am here I meet people who are different from me, who have fears and are traveling on this sea called Lambeth. And in most circumstances, we have helped each other to see that it is Jesus who is coming toward us, who are calling us out of our fears.” And Bishop Shaw wrote: “One woman asked is Lambeth just about talking. I replied these conversations are necessary for unity, and while it may seem that the conference is only about talking about the Bible and the Anglican Communion, it is the lengthy exchange between bishops that will help bring about unity.”

As encouraging as these words are for us as Anglicans, I have to wonder what these words of Jesus mean for us in a world that is desperately hungry. Each minute of these three weeks Lambeth has been in session, 24 individuals around the globe have died from hunger, 18 of these children. In the three weeks our bishops have debated sexual ethics, and who belongs in the church, and who doesn’t, and how to achieve unity, a total of 725,000 people, 560,000 children have died from hunger.

In our Gospel, Jesus assumes the disciples have everything it takes to feed the hungry throng. There is more than enough in our world to rescue the millions who die each year from starvation. And it makes me wonder how long it will take for those of us who follow Jesus, who say we are his disciples, to take the next step, to translate words into action, and to respond to his command: “You give them something to eat.”

I wonder too what this Gospel might mean for us as a parish. Yes, it is true, physical hunger is a reality on the Cape, but the far greater hunger in our wider community is spiritual, and it is everywhere we look. How then, might we respond to Jesus’ words: “You give them something to eat.”?

God knows we have the spiritual resources at St. Mary’s to feed those who are seeking nourishment, and affirmation, and salvation on Cape Cod. We have more than enough, twelve baskets full.

St. Mary’s is a wonderful parish, full of grace. When we come to church here, we are lifted up by the beauty that surrounds us, and the fellowship of kindred spirits. But I wonder sometimes if we are hoarding a good thing, if we sometimes overindulge ourselves, when our true purpose is to feed those who are hungry. A book I read this past month put it this way: “Today, in a new time, the purpose of the church and its ministries is to transform people in the light of God’s grace.” And my question this morning is how are we doing this? How are we transforming people in the light of God’s grace? How are we giving ourselves and those who are spiritually hungry on Cape Cod the nourishment God intends for them and that they deserve?

Finally, I am wondering this morning what our Gospel means for us personally. I wonder if you, like me, more often than not are like the disciples, who could not see the miraculous power they had within themselves. I wonder if you, too, are overwhelmed by the world and its challenges, by the press of the crowds, by the deep hunger that exists in all of us.

There’s an old story about hell, one that you might have heard sometime ago. In the story Hell is made up of a group of people, seated around an enormous table upon which is laid a sumptuous banquet. Each of the people has strapped to their arms six foot spoons, and thus handicapped, they cannot eat the food before them. In effect, they are starving to death. The only way for them to eat, the only way to escape hell, the story goes, is if they use their spoons to feed each other.

“You give them something to eat,” Jesus says. I wonder this morning what unplumbed gifts you and I have that Jesus is waiting for us to use for his greater glory. Is it simply five loaves and two fish? Then, friends, this is enough, more than enough. Each of us here, today, is supremely gifted, endowed with the Spirit of God. A hungry world awaits us and our resolve. And Jesus assumes we have everything necessary to nourish our world, starving to death in body and spirit.

A few years ago, we adopted as part of our parish mission statement a wonderful prayer by St. Theresa of Avila. I offer it now, in the light of our Gospel, as encouragement for us to go forth to feed the hungry, whenever and however they come to us.

Christ has no body on earth but yours,
No hands but yours, no feet but yours,
Your are the eyes through which Christ’s compassion
Is to look out to the earth.
Yours are the feet by which He is to go about doing good.
And yours are the hands by which He is to bless us now.