"ENOUGH FOR EVERYONE"
Exodus 16: selected verses
Matthew 14:13-21
Rev. Gary Paterson
July 31, 2011
It’s a favourite – the story of the feeding of the 5000. Ask any group of people for their favourite Jesus stories, and this one is usually top choice. It just happens to be the one “miracle story” that you find in all four gospels. And Matthew and Mark thought it was so important that when they stumbled across another story, the feeding of the 4000, they decided to include that one too, not completely certain that it was one and the same story. You can watch how the story changes, subtly, from one gospel to the next. It’s Matthew who acknowledges that when he’s talking about “the 5000” he means men, since in that patriarchal society, women and children didn’t get counted. But Matthew knew they were there… and that probably we’re talking about the feeding of the ten thousand. Though I guess after a certain point, it doesn’t really matter, the numbers… just big, and miraculous. John who goes a step further, not only is he aware that children are present, but in his gospel it’s a young boy who offers up five barley loaves and two fish, the one who provides the wherewithal that sparks the miracle.
All four gospel writers weave memories of the Last Supper into this earlier meal, as they recognize that all the meals Jesus celebrated with his disciples should be thought of together – heavenly banquets at the end of time, a feast in the house of Levi the tax collector, or, on another day, in the home of Simon the Pharisee. And this miracle, where five loaves and two fish are enough to feed the crowd, all ten thousand of them. And so they describe the feast using classic Communion language… Jesus took the bread; looked up to heaven; and then blessed, broke, and gave the bread. John gets so excited by these parallels that the miracle becomes a sign, a teachable moment, where Jesus is able to say, “I am the bread of heaven.”
It’s not a surprise that the feeding of the 5000 is one of our favourite Bible stories. There’s something so important about eating a meal, eating with others, gathered around a table, acknowledging our human hunger, sharing the delight of good food and good people… whether they be family, friend, or even stranger. Recognizing the blessing of it all; and our own vulnerability. Just saw another article in the weekend paper about how important it is for families to eat together; as if we didn’t already know that. It’s important for congregations too… communion and potluck, and next door, after morning worship at the Hotel’s special brunch.
Now, we need to go back two thousand years, to get a better sense of just how radical Jesus’ actions really were. You see, Israel had developed a thorough set of purity laws, partly perhaps because they were a small nation whose identity kept getting threatened by large powerful neighbours. Purity laws helped them define who they were, what they were about, and who they worshipped and how they did it. There were laws that separated men from the women and children; that included Jews and excluded Samaritans and Gentiles; purity laws that divided tax collector and priest, leper and healthy, slave and free, gay and straight, clean and unclean. There were some people you ate with… and others that weren’t welcome at your table.
Jesus said, “Nonsense!” Everyone and anyone was welcomed at the Jesus table. No exceptions; no credentials asked for at the door. Maybe it was because this feeding of the 5000 was more like a picnic than a formal gathering. There they all were, out in the country, sitting on the grass, gabbing away, feasting, the kids probably running around all over the place. It was always that way when our family went on a picnic; my grandmother at the centre, as we spread our blankets in Stanley Park, near Lumberman’s Arch and long ago salt water swimming pool, with little tent changing rooms; or down at Jericho beach as the tide came in, and my uncle swinging me through the waves. There was a wonderful looseness at picnics; nobody fussed about manners, or spills on your shirt; and you didn’t have to finish your dinner before you and all the other grandchildren went spinning into the evening. Was that what it felt like, as Jesus found himself at the centre of a first century country outing? And while I’m being a bit playful, just consider for a moment, in honour of this being Pride Weekend here in Vancouver… according to the statistics, something like 5 to 10 per cent of those five thousand men were gay. Not out, I’m sure; and maybe even married… but still there. And who knows among the women… maybe hundreds of lesbians. But nobody was asking or checking… since everyone was welcome.
Brings up an interesting point about how you want to form a church. There’s one approach, sometimes called the “bounded set,” where the boundaries of the community are tightly drawn; you know who’s in, and who’ out; membership lists determine the limits of community. It’s understandable, this need to create identity, to know who you are, and who you’re travelling with. But it can shift easily into becoming an identity that is determined by who you are against. Discomfort and fear of the one who is different can morph into demonization, projection, scape-goating, judgment… and eventually all kinds of violence becomes justifiable. Maybe this is part of what is happening in Norway… what does it mean to be Norwegian? Who’s in, and who’s out? Who is welcome at the picnic… and who is not?
The alternative is to become a “centred set,” where there are no precise borders, but rather the community is defined by core values at the very centre, and people are seen not as in or out, but as closer or further from the centre. Everyone is in, no one is out, although some people are close to the centre and others far from it. How would we describe this community of faith, St. Andrew’s-Wesley… bounded or centred? Is everyone welcome? And our core values – progressive, passionate, inclusive, committed to justice… are they truly what define our boundaries? And, if we went right to the centre of this congregation, would we recognize the presence of Jesus Christ – not just a value, but a person, a holy presence? In which case, everyone would be welcome at the picnic, right?.... because the Jesus-centred community is always radically inclusive, rooted in love and transformation and God.
But let me get back, now, to the actual story, the feeding of the five or ten thousand. It’s a miraculous story, no? Five loaves and two fish… thousands fed, and 12 huge baskets of leftovers. But surely this leaves you with questions, trying to figure out how this happened?. Is this a demonstration of Jesus’ divine powers, so that by prayer and a magic spin of his hands, somehow, in ways beyond our comprehension and explanation, the food multiplied, and the hungry were fed. Well, possibly – and would that such a miracle could be repeated in the Horn of Africa today. On the other hand, other interpreters have suggested that the real miracle came in the act of sharing. You see, I just don’t think Galilean peasants would head off for a day in the wilderness with Jesus without planning ahead, without bringing along supplies. I mean, here I am, all set to charge off to our Parade Float after today’s worship, and I have a packsack… water, bag lunch, sunscreen and an umbrella, just in case. So, let’s just imagine that each family… remember all those women and children?…. they had their first century packsack… and I’ll bet they took food along with them. And when someone… the little boy, the disciples, Jesus… offered up what they had to share with others, well… I wonder if a wave of sharing swept through the crowd, and tight family loyalties, where me and mine get fed, and the rest, well, they should have been better prepared… perhaps these narrow boundaries got stretched, with bread passing from hand to hand – because it suddenly became a Jesus picnic. Surely that’s as much a miracle, this softening of cautious Galilean peasant hearts, as an “everything done by Jesus” event. Would that such a miracle of sharing might take place in the Horn of Africa.
Let me take you back further – back to an earlier feeding story, one that actually undergirds this account of loaves and fish; back to the events of Exodus, when the Israelites had escaped from Egypt, had crossed the Red Sea, then found themselves, not in the promised land, but in a wilderness which threatened them with starvation. They soon ran out of food, were desperate, complained and cried out to God, who responded graciously, saying “I am going to rain bread from heaven for you…” But it didn’t come as expected; there were no fresh loaves that suddenly dropped from the skies. What happened is that in the morning the Israelites discovered manna – as the Bible describes it, “ a fine flaky substance, as fine as frost on the ground… like coriander seed, white, and the taste of it was like wafers made with honey.” Now that was a miracle; God had provided. However, there are different ways of understanding this event. One explanation comes from the study of plant lice that feed upon the tamarisk trees of the Sinai peninsula. As these little insects suck the sap in at one end, they excrete a sugar-filled substance from the other end, which in the face of daytime temperatures melts and disappears, but when the temperature drops overnight, well this bug excrement hardens, and in the cool of the morning… well… you get manna. Which is what modern day Bedouins call the white flaky substance they continue to gather in the Sinai desert -- their daily bread, their bug juice.
Does such an explanation diminish the miracle? Or does it suggest that God provides if we only have eyes to see, that God works in and through the natural events of the world; not magic, but gift and insight? By the way, do you know what the word “manna” originally meant? It comes from the Hebrew, “Man hu” – which translates as, “What is it?” “Man hu?” the Israelites cried out to each other on that long ago morning when they ran out of their tents, wondering what they were going to eat for breakfast; finger to flake to mouth to a fresh sweetness… “What is it?” they asked as they filled their baskets; as they found food, as their hunger was satisfied. They could have said, “Bug excrement! No thanks!” Instead, they said, “Thank you, God, for this our daily bread.”
At the heart of both of these stories is a conviction of abundance, of God’s providence – if we only have eyes to see, if we are on a “manna alert” – knowing it is all around us, but we may not have recognized the blessing even when a neighbour or a stranger offers us bread. But surely we have only to look around, and recognize that the world is overflowing with blessing. Enough energy released fifteen billion years ago that the universe is still expanding, growing ever larger and more complex; just try counting stars if you want to experience abundance. Or picture me and my daughter Zoe, sitting on a New Zealand beach, staring at the waves that come forever, rolling in from across the Pacific…and my saying, “Long after your husband Mark dies from cancer, and long after I have died, and you too are gone, sweetie, these waves will continue to roll in, endlessly …and wonderfully.” That was a manna moment. And there was manna in last night’s fireworks; in a morning breakfast of fresh raspberries; in the laughter of children. As the poet Mary Oliver wrote,
It doesn’t have to bethe blue iris, it could beweeds in a vacant lot, or a fewsmall stones; justpay attention, then patcha few words together and don’t tryto make them elaborate, this isn’ta contest but the doorwayinto thanks, and a silence in whichanother voice may speak.
Weeds in a vacant lot; a few small stones… what is it? Just pay attention and you will discover manna. All around. As an ancient prayer found on the dining room walls of the Refectory connected to Chester Cathedral declares:
Give me a good digestion, Lord,And also something to digest.But when and how that something comesI leave to Thee, who knowest best.
Bug juice; a shared picnic; weeds or a few small stones – when and how that something comes may surprise you.
But when it does arrive… remember Jesus’ long ago words to his disciples, “You give them something to eat.” Clearly an invitation and a command into manna partnership. The miracles doesn’t fully happen until we roll up our sleeves and make sure that the manna gets distributed around, gets shared. As the Orthodox theologian Berdyaev stated, “Bread for myself is a material matter; bread for my neighbour is a spiritual matter.” We might be surprised at how we can be manna partners. It could sharing your bread with the people of Somalia – a financial gift today that will go to on-the-ground church partners in Kenya and Ethiopia, who can then ensure that food arrives in the refugee camps overflowing with starving people.
Or another example -- the “It Gets Better” YouTube campaign launched by sex columnist Dan Savage, in response to the number of gay or lesbian teenagers who commit suicide, a far greater percentage than for straight teens. Adolescence is hard for everyone, but especially so for young gays and lesbians, who can feel so isolated, so bullied, so hopeless. So Dan Savage challenged adults, of all orientations but especially gays and lesbians, to do short videos of personal testimony that illustrate that indeed life does get better, that there is a place for gay and lesbian people… not weird, not sick, not sinful, but adjusted, partnered, productive… and happy. Surely this is manna!
I had wondered about our sharing communion this Sunday, a symbolic and powerful experience of manna, right here and now, the body of Christ, bread for our journey. Then I thought, well, maybe we’ll just take, bless, break and share five loaves of bread; I’d even imagined planting loaves with some folk in the pews who would spontaneously pull bread out from under the pew, and start passing it along... but then I thought, well, that’s a bit cheesy, and Tom, our caretaker, who will have to vacuum up all the crumbs after worship is finished, he would have my head. So instead, I decided to invite you to hold hands… yes, I know, that may push into your personal space boundaries… you might not even know the person whose hand you are holding; or you might know them, and aren’t so sure you would have chosen to hold hands together. But just try it… and realize how we are joined in our hunger, how we are all vulnerable and needy in different ways; and how we are joined in our hope for blessing, how we are all beloved by God, who everyday offers abundant manna if we have eyes to see, and hands to share. So, while we are holding hands, joined together, will you sing and pray with me,
Bread of life, feed my soul,as the presence of the Spirit makes me whole.Bread of life, fill my heart,with the grace and mercy you impart.