St.Mary's Episcopal Church, Barnstable, MA

The Eighth Sunday after Pentecost
July 26, 2009
John 6:1-21
The Rev. Dr. Kris Lewis

Almighty God, the breeze of your love and grace is ever blowing; may we set our sails to capture that breeze, and may it inspire these words and those who hear them. Amen.

“Mom, I’m hungry!” “There’s nothing to eat!” “I’m staaarrrving!!!”

If you’ve ever parented a teenager, or been a teenager, those words likely resonate with you—the plea of one who is a seemingly bottomless pit, who even in the face of plenty, is insatiable, whose voracious appetite needs to be assuaged on a frequent basis. If you’ve ever been responsible for the care and feeding of a teenager, you might have some feel for what Jesus faced when he finds himself faced with a hungry crowd of 5000 or so.

The story of the feeding of the multitudes is the only miracle story that is told in all four gospels, and that gives it both a certain weight and a great deal of familiarity. In John’s telling of the story, Passover is nearing and Jesus has taken his disciples up onto the mountainside, perhaps to rest and prepare themselves for the festival. But he looks up and sees that the crowd has again accompanied him, and sensing their needs, asks his disciples, “Where will we get enough bread to feed them all?”
This is a bit of a rhetorical question for Jesus—John reminds us that Jesus knows exactly where to get enough bread to feed the crowds—but his disciples struggle for an answer. Phillip notes that it would take six months’ wages to buy enough food to feed a crowd of that size. And Andrew reports that he encountered only one boy with food, a mere two fish and five barely loaves, surely an inadequate amount for such a crowd.

But Jesus doesn’t hesitate. He has the crowds be seated on the hillside, and he takes the bread and fish and he gives thanks and distributes them, and when all are filled he collects the leftovers and there are 12 baskets full.

We’ve heard this story so many times that we tend to take that outcome for granted, so let me repeat it: Jesus gives thanks for the food, and all were fed and there were 12 baskets—big baskets—of leftovers. Somehow from that meager bit of food—two fish and five barley loaves—there was an abundance; there was more than enough for all.
Lots of ink has been spilled trying to explain what happened that day, the nature of the miracle that occurred—did Jesus somehow make the food multiply? Were people in the crowd hiding food that they were then moved to share?

Truth is, I don’t know HOW the miracle of the feeding took place, and you know what-- I don’t think it really matters. What matters is that God was there. God was there, and everyone was fed. God was there and there was an abundance—an abundance of food, and of grace, and of love.

Jesus came to a people who were hungry—hungry for physical sustenance to be sure, in a land where life was not always easy, but also hungry for healing, hungry for the Messiah who would liberate them from the shackles of the Roman Empire, hungry for the power that would restore Israel to its former glory, hungry for the word of God. Jesus came to these hungry people and he fed them and nourished them and filled them. The food he provided was not always what they craved, not always what they expected, but it was good, it was filling, and when they received it in faith, it brought them all that they sought: sustenance, healing, liberation and glory, all in the kingdom of God.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You need only see a newborn infant searching for her mother’s breast, or look into the eyes of a homeless man on the streets, or, yes, even hear the plaintive cry of a teenager to know that hunger is an inescapable part of the human condition. But like the people of Israel, our hunger is not hunger for food alone—although that is very real. Like the people of Israel we hunger for liberation from the ties that bind us; we hunger for healing from the pain and suffering of the world; we hunger for that ineffable connection with God that can fill us and make us whole.

And in Jesus, our hunger can be, will be filled. Jesus promises us that there will be enough—enough food, enough love, enough grace—and Jesus models for us an extravagant, profuse generosity. We are fed as we are washed in the waters of baptism, and we are fed when we hear God’s word and most of all we are fed when we gather around this table to receive the body and blood of our Savior, Jesus. We are fed, and we are filled, and we are awash in the wake of God’s abundant and overflowing love.
What’s more, our hunger is assuaged without cost to us. All of this abundance, this generosity, all of this feeding comes without any price tag attached—there is no fee exacted, no tax levied. We can, in fact, never repay God for the abundance with which we are showered. God neither expects nor demands it. God gives it to us freely and generously and graciously.

What we are called to do, however, is to pass it on. As God’s beloved children, as Christ’s body in the world, as humans created in God’s image, we are called to live generously, to give as we receive out of abundance, to take part in the task of feeding the world’s hunger, meeting the world’s needs.

As the disciples did when they faced the hungry throngs, it is far too easy for us to look at the hunger in the world around us—hunger for food, hunger for medicine, hunger for peace and justice, hunger for healing and acceptance and love—it is too easy for us to confront the immense hunger and longings of the world and say, “There is not enough.” Not enough food, not enough resources, not enough energy—not enough will—to make a difference.

But God is with us, just as God was there on that hillside. And when God is present, there will be enough—there IS enough, enough for all with some still leftover.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

God provides for us in abundance and God calls us to live into that abundance, to live with a spirit of generosity. In my four years here at Saint Mary’s I’ve experienced that abundance and that generous spirit in so many ways. I’ve been fed literally, breakfast, lunch and dinner provided by amazing and talented cooks, and I’ve seen others fed at potlucks and cookouts and Days of Hospitality and meals for the Miracle Kitchen. I’ve been fed spiritually in small groups—the Prayer Group, the Men’s Group, the bible study group, the Thursday morning gathering, in Advent and Lenten programs, at the parish retreats, in the Joy Mass—when we come together in community to pray, to worship, to learn; and I’ve been sustained by quotidian encounters with parishioners, moments of quiet grace; I’ve been nourished at this altar receiving the body and blood of Christ and having the immeasurable privilege of sharing that body and blood with all of you; I’ve been filled as I hear and see all the ways this parish reaches out to care for and share with others, to be Christ’s body in the world.

But even in the midst of all this loving abundance, I’ve also heard the murmurs of doubt and fear that infect each of us, the cries of “There’s not enough.” I’ve been there as we’ve hesitated to take the next step, as we’ve held perhaps too tightly to the abundance that we’ve received, individually and as a community, as we’ve failed to live with the generosity of spirit that Jesus modeled for us. This fear, this hesitance and doubt is just as much a part of the human condition as our deep hunger, but its presence hobbles us, holds us back, keeps us from living fully into the image of God, becoming the people that God calls us to be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I long to hold your hands as we walk through these fears but our ways will part today; I move on with great anticipation to a new ministry even as I bid you farewell with no small measure of sadness. And so, as I go, I leave you with this challenge:

Look for God. Look for God everywhere, for where God is, all things are possible. Receive God’s abundant, extravagant love, and then nourished by that love, live generously, without fear. Go into the world with abandon and love others boldly as you have been loved. And remembering that just as two fish and five barley loaves were enough for the multitude, give thanks, and trust even that even when things look scarce, God provides us with enough—enough food, enough grace, enough love, enough money, enough will—enough to meet all our needs and then some.

God is good, always and forever more.

AMEN

Contact us: 508-362-3977 stmary@cape.com
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Sermons at Saint Mary's The Eighth Sunday after Pentecost July 26, 2009 John 6:1-21 The Rev. Dr. Kris Lewis Almighty God, the breeze of your love and grace is ever blowing; may we set our sails to capture that breeze, and may it inspire these words and those who hear them. Amen. “Mom, I’m hungry!” “There’s nothing to eat!” “I’m staaarrrving!!!” If you’ve ever parented a teenager, or been a teenager, those words likely resonate with you—the plea of one who is a seemingly bottomless pit, who even in the face of plenty, is insatiable, whose voracious appetite needs to be assuaged on a frequent basis. If you’ve ever been responsible for the care and feeding of a teenager, you might have some feel for what Jesus faced when he finds himself faced with a hungry crowd of 5000 or so. The story of the feeding of the multitudes is the only miracle story that is told in all four gospels, and that gives it both a certain weight and a great deal of familiarity. In John’s telling of the story, Passover is nearing and Jesus has taken his disciples up onto the mountainside, perhaps to rest and prepare themselves for the festival. But he looks up and sees that the crowd has again accompanied him, and sensing their needs, asks his disciples, “Where will we get enough bread to feed them all?” This is a bit of a rhetorical question for Jesus—John reminds us that Jesus knows exactly where to get enough bread to feed the crowds—but his disciples struggle for an answer. Phillip notes that it would take six months’ wages to buy enough food to feed a crowd of that size. And Andrew reports that he encountered only one boy with food, a mere two fish and five barely loaves, surely an inadequate amount for such a crowd. But Jesus doesn’t hesitate. He has the crowds be seated on the hillside, and he takes the bread and fish and he gives thanks and distributes them, and when all are filled he collects the leftovers and there are 12 baskets full. We’ve heard this story so many times that we tend to take that outcome for granted, so let me repeat it: Jesus gives thanks for the food, and all were fed and there were 12 baskets—big baskets—of leftovers. Somehow from that meager bit of food—two fish and five barley loaves—there was an abundance; there was more than enough for all. Lots of ink has been spilled trying to explain what happened that day, the nature of the miracle that occurred—did Jesus somehow make the food multiply? Were people in the crowd hiding food that they were then moved to share? Truth is, I don’t know HOW the miracle of the feeding took place, and you know what-- I don’t think it really matters. What matters is that God was there. God was there, and everyone was fed. God was there and there was an abundance—an abundance of food, and of grace, and of love. Jesus came to a people who were hungry—hungry for physical sustenance to be sure, in a land where life was not always easy, but also hungry for healing, hungry for the Messiah who would liberate them from the shackles of the Roman Empire, hungry for the power that would restore Israel to its former glory, hungry for the word of God. Jesus came to these hungry people and he fed them and nourished them and filled them. The food he provided was not always what they craved, not always what they expected, but it was good, it was filling, and when they received it in faith, it brought them all that they sought: sustenance, healing, liberation and glory, all in the kingdom of God. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You need only see a newborn infant searching for her mother’s breast, or look into the eyes of a homeless man on the streets, or, yes, even hear the plaintive cry of a teenager to know that hunger is an inescapable part of the human condition. But like the people of Israel, our hunger is not hunger for food alone—although that is very real. Like the people of Israel we hunger for liberation from the ties that bind us; we hunger for healing from the pain and suffering of the world; we hunger for that ineffable connection with God that can fill us and make us whole. And in Jesus, our hunger can be, will be filled. Jesus promises us that there will be enough—enough food, enough love, enough grace—and Jesus models for us an extravagant, profuse generosity. We are fed as we are washed in the waters of baptism, and we are fed when we hear God’s word and most of all we are fed when we gather around this table to receive the body and blood of our Savior, Jesus. We are fed, and we are filled, and we are awash in the wake of God’s abundant and overflowing love. What’s more, our hunger is assuaged without cost to us. All of this abundance, this generosity, all of this feeding comes without any price tag attached—there is no fee exacted, no tax levied. We can, in fact, never repay God for the abundance with which we are showered. God neither expects nor demands it. God gives it to us freely and generously and graciously. What we are called to do, however, is to pass it on. As God’s beloved children, as Christ’s body in the world, as humans created in God’s image, we are called to live generously, to give as we receive out of abundance, to take part in the task of feeding the world’s hunger, meeting the world’s needs. As the disciples did when they faced the hungry throngs, it is far too easy for us to look at the hunger in the world around us—hunger for food, hunger for medicine, hunger for peace and justice, hunger for healing and acceptance and love—it is too easy for us to confront the immense hunger and longings of the world and say, “There is not enough.” Not enough food, not enough resources, not enough energy—not enough will—to make a difference. But God is with us, just as God was there on that hillside. And when God is present, there will be enough—there IS enough, enough for all with some still leftover. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ God provides for us in abundance and God calls us to live into that abundance, to live with a spirit of generosity. In my four years here at Saint Mary’s I’ve experienced that abundance and that generous spirit in so many ways. I’ve been fed literally, breakfast, lunch and dinner provided by amazing and talented cooks, and I’ve seen others fed at potlucks and cookouts and Days of Hospitality and meals for the Miracle Kitchen. I’ve been fed spiritually in small groups—the Prayer Group, the Men’s Group, the bible study group, the Thursday morning gathering, in Advent and Lenten programs, at the parish retreats, in the Joy Mass—when we come together in community to pray, to worship, to learn; and I’ve been sustained by quotidian encounters with parishioners, moments of quiet grace; I’ve been nourished at this altar receiving the body and blood of Christ and having the immeasurable privilege of sharing that body and blood with all of you; I’ve been filled as I hear and see all the ways this parish reaches out to care for and share with others, to be Christ’s body in the world. But even in the midst of all this loving abundance, I’ve also heard the murmurs of doubt and fear that infect each of us, the cries of “There’s not enough.” I’ve been there as we’ve hesitated to take the next step, as we’ve held perhaps too tightly to the abundance that we’ve received, individually and as a community, as we’ve failed to live with the generosity of spirit that Jesus modeled for us. This fear, this hesitance and doubt is just as much a part of the human condition as our deep hunger, but its presence hobbles us, holds us back, keeps us from living fully into the image of God, becoming the people that God calls us to be. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I long to hold your hands as we walk through these fears but our ways will part today; I move on with great anticipation to a new ministry even as I bid you farewell with no small measure of sadness. And so, as I go, I leave you with this challenge: Look for God. Look for God everywhere, for where God is, all things are possible. Receive God’s abundant, extravagant love, and then nourished by that love, live generously, without fear. Go into the world with abandon and love others boldly as you have been loved. And remembering that just as two fish and five barley loaves were enough for the multitude, give thanks, and trust even that even when things look scarce, God provides us with enough—enough food, enough grace, enough love, enough money, enough will—enough to meet all our needs and then some. God is good, always and forever more. AMEN top \| home \| site index