Lectionary Text:  John 6: 1-21 (Proper 12B)

After this Jesus went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, also called the Sea of Tiberias. ²A large crowd kept following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing for the sick. ³Jesus went up the mountain and sat down there with his disciples. ⁴Now the Passover, the festival of the Jews, was near. ⁵When he looked up and saw a large crowd coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?” ⁶He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he was going to do. ⁷Philip answered him, “Six months’ wages would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little.” ⁸One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, ⁹“There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?” ¹⁰Jesus said, “Make the people sit down.” Now there was a great deal of grass in the place; so they sat down, about five thousand in all. ¹¹Then Jesus took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated; so also the fish, as much as they wanted. ¹²When they were satisfied, he told his disciples, “Gather up the fragments left over, so that nothing may be lost.” ¹³So they gathered them up, and from the fragments of the five barley loaves, left by those who had eaten, they filled twelve baskets. ¹⁴When the people saw the sign that he had done, they began to say, “This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world.”

¹⁵When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself. ¹⁶When evening came, his disciples went down to the sea, ¹⁷got into a boat, and started across the sea to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. ¹⁸The sea became rough because a strong wind was blowing. ¹⁹When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the sea and coming near the boat, and they were terrified. ²⁰But he said to them, “It is I; do not be afraid.” ²¹Then they wanted to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat reached the land toward which they were going.

It was early in the morning and the sun had just begun to peak through the window above where he slept.  He really hadn’t gotten that much sleep.  The excitement and expectation was just too overwhelming.  It hadn’t been until right before he had gone to bed that his parents had finally given him permission to go.  He had been begging them for days.  He didn’t think his father really understood.  That seemed odd to him, given the fact that his father was so involved and so well-respected at the temple.  After all, his father went to the temple every day and was close to God.  That’s really what he wanted.  He wanted to be close to God, to feel God, to know God.  And all the townspeople had been talking about this man who was so close to God, who could show you how to be close to God.  He wanted to hear him.

So, he sprang out of bed and hurriedly put on his clothes.  He didn’t want to be late.  He wanted to get a good seat near the upper part of the hill so that he could hear.  He wanted to be near this man they called Jesus.  Just as he was running through the house, his mother called him back.  He rolled his eyes.  He did NOT want to be late.  He turned around.  His mother was standing there with a basket covered with a cloth.  She had packed him a lunch. He didn’t really feel that he needed a lunch.  He just wanted to hear what Jesus was going to say.  But he would humor her.  Maybe a lunch would be a good thing.  He took the lunch and returned her hug.  And then as he stepped out of the doorway and began to walk toward the lakeside beach, he glanced in the basket.  Hmm…five loaves and two fishes…that would be good…it was just enough for him.  It was all he would need.

When he got to the beach, there were already people gathering.  He thought he saw someone that could be this man Jesus through the crowd.  And then the crowd started moving, away from the beach and up the mountain side.  He could feel the cool air coming off of the lake as they went up the mountain.  It felt good.  Near the top of the mountain, Jesus sat down on a rock and his disciples sat down around him.  The small boy pushed through the crowd and positioned himself on a rock.  What a great spot!  He could see Jesus.  He could hear Jesus.  He was going to find out how to be close to God! He was with Jesus!

This is, of course, a familiar Scripture to us.  Many of us have read it since our childhood.  We have seen paintings and stained glass and countless other renditions that depict this story.  It is an amazing story to us, probably one of our favorites.  Apparently, this story was liked by everyone when it was first told, also.  Because it is not told just once, not twice, not just three times; rather, this story is the only gospel miracle that is told in its fullness in all four renditions of the Gospel. Apparently, this is a story to which we need to pay attention.  Because not only is it a story about Jesus; it is the story of a crowd.  It is a story of us.  We are the ones sitting on the grass, witnessing these signs, and receiving food from Jesus.

But what we end up concentrating on is the miracle that Jesus obviously did, taking a small amount of food and feeding an entire mountain of people.  But somewhere along the way, we forget that Jesus did not make something out of nothing.  This was not a magic trick.  We forget about the small boy, unnoticed, uncounted (remember that the 5,000 would have just been the men!), a small boy who just wanted to get closer to God.

Think back—barley loaves and fish—the cheaper food for the poor.  Barley was very inexpensive and for these communities surrounding the Lake of Galilee, fish would have been plentiful.  This was all the boy had.  It might have been a real sacrifice for his mother to pack that lunch at all. But soon after they reach the far side of the lake, he sees the disciples moving through the crowd.  They seemed to be looking for something.  And then he heard one of them ask someone if they knew of anyone in the crowd who had some food.  The little boy looked up.  “Oh”, he said, standing and running toward the disciple, “I do.  I have brought food.  Take it.  Take my food.  I want Jesus to have what I have brought.”  The boy had been right.  It was just enough.

Now at the risk of destroying your view of this story, notice that it doesn’t say that the boy’s lunch was the ONLY food.  It doesn’t say that the rest of the crowd did not have lunch.  Commentators have suggested that maybe some people in the crowd had things tucked away, holding it back to make sure that they had enough.  After all, do you really think more than 5,000 people would travel on foot and show up for a day-long extravaganza with no food?  Perhaps, then the miracle lies in the fact that the young boy was the first.  He was the first to offer his food, the first to offer all he had, the first to demonstrate an understanding of the abundance that God’s offers.  The fact that everyone eventually ended up with food may mean, in fact, that his generosity and openness to giving inspired others to do the same.  Generosity and caring about others became contagious.  It moved through the crowd.  You’ve experienced that, experienced those times when the spirit of generosity is pervasive.  And that IS a miracle.  Jesus WAS the one who performed that miracle.

I want to be like that little boy.  I want to, without reservation, willingly and joyfully offer what I have to Christ.  I want to bring what I have to the table of life that all might be able to share in it.  But I am like many on that hill that day and probably many of you.  I hold back, afraid that there will not be enough and offer only what I think I can do without—my spare time, my spare change, even my spare thoughts.  We are taught by our society to live our lives with an assumption of scarcity, assuming that there will not be enough when it is all said and done and so we hold back, rationalizing our reserves and hoarding our gifts that God has so generously shared with us.  We give in to the fear of not having enough. 

But that little boy looked at Jesus and saw abundance, rather than scarcity.  His faith gave him the ability to see that God had provided for him and would continue to do so and so he offered what he had with joy and extravagant generosity.  Oh, I want to be like that little boy. 

When you get to the end of this familiar Gospel story, Jesus leaves the stage.  He withdraws once again to the mountain alone.  And the crowd and we are left behind.  And as the sun sets on the scene, there is an empowering absence that descends upon us, a spirit of extravagant generosity and radical hospitality.  Can you feel it, that almost palpable spirit moving through the crowd?  Jesus has shown us what to do and now it is ours to actually do.  Meeting Jesus means that we have said we are willing to let our lives be changed.  Jesus did not come to us just to be a miracle-worker.  Jesus is not a vending machine-like character that gives us everything we think we need.  Jesus came, rather, to initiate the building of the Kingdom of God and calls us to follow.

And, as if that weren’t enough, there were leftovers!   So, Jesus tells the disciples to gather up all these fragments and save them.  Nothing is wasted.  Nothing is discarded.  Every morsel is important. Every morsel is part of this ongoing banquet.  Jesus is always preparing for the next crowd that might need something.  The story ends with Jesus still meeting the needs of each and every one, even those that might show up a little late, even those that are yet to come. The story is right—this WAS a miracle!   

If you can’t feed a hundred people, then just feed one. (Mother Teresa)

Grace and Peace,

Shelli