Fourth Sunday in Lent - March 30, 2003
By Linda Yeager
2 Chronicles 36:14-23
Psalm 122
Ephesians 2:4-10
John 6:4-15
My husband, children and I lived in a small town -- population about 6,000 -- for over 30 years. Cultural opportunities were a bit meager -- to speak in understatement. Therefore, reading became a very important pursuit for me. I spent a great deal of time at our local library, a century-old, three story brick structure that warmly invites its patrons to stay awhile. The windows reach majestically from floor to 20-foot ceiling; the overstuffed chairs enfold you comfortably; and the glow from the fireplaces urges you to come closer. Since, as the saying goes, no good deed goes unpunished, I was eventually invited to serve on the library board and, then, to act as chairperson.
It was during my tenure as chairperson that "it" happened. The librarian called me in one day to tell me that the roofer who had been patching the slate roof for decades had announced that patching was no longer sufficient, that, in fact, we had to put a new roof on the entire structure. His cost estimate, labor and materials, was $30,000. For an institution that paid its librarian a paltry $11,000 a year and survived on the minimal county tax funds that came its way, coming up with $30,000 seemed like an impossibility. In addition, the building itself was in need of repair and renovation. One hundred thousand dollars would barely be enough. I remember sitting down on one of those cushiony chairs and saying, "It can't be done." We were faced with the reality that we would be left with all those books and nothing to sustain them.
We let the community know the problem, expecting little response. But, to our surprise, a resident came forward and offered $10,000 toward the cost of the roof and agreed to match other donations up to a certain point. To make a long story short, we ultimately raised over $500,000 in that small town. We replaced the windows, installed new heating and cooling systems, tuck pointed the building, redid the floors and turned the third floor into a lovely and luxurious Little Theater. Oh, and, by the way, put a new roof on the entire structure -- and had money left over.
I thought of that experience this week as I read the gospel passage. You know, the story of the multiplication of the loaves and the fishes is the only miracle found in all four gospels. Each gospel tells the story a little differently, but the fact that it appears in all the gospels tells us that it is a significant encounter. In John it is told quite succinctly and clearly. Our Lord is seen here at Passover time. He notices a large crowd coming toward him, and he asks Philip where they could buy bread for them to eat. Philip tells Jesus that six months' wages couldn't provide even a meager portion for each one in the crowd. Andrew then comes forward and mentions that a boy is among them who has five barley loaves and two fish. But Andrew recognizes the absurdity of thinking that this small offering could be of any help. Jesus tells the disciples to "Make the people sit down." So about five thousand sit down and, after Jesus gives thanks for the bread, he distributes it among them -- and also the fish. John's gospel tells us that everyone ate until satisfied and that twelve baskets of scraps were left over.
When I think of the participants in this event, I find, somewhat reluctantly, that I relate to Philip more than to anyone else in the group. Philip is the realist, the practical disciple. When faced with an obstacle, Philip looks at the circumstances and recognizes the barriers. The magnitude of the task overwhelms him and he figures the odds against accomplishing it. This was very human of Philip, but if all of us were Philips, many great feats would never be undertaken or achieved. Did you know that the Kansas City Community Kitchen is now serving over 500 people each weekday? Five hundred. When the kitchen began its ministry, if someone had told Jane that she would need to feed five hundred people a day, she might have laughed and explained how much it costs to feed one person and how ridiculous it would be to even attempt such a deed. She might have done that. But she wouldn't have. For Jane takes whatever contributions are offered, no matter how small, blesses the offerings and serves them. And, at least, when I am there, everyone leaves satisfied and there are always leftovers.
Alone, we can't undertake the tasks which seem overwhelming. But Jesus asks us to do more than we are humanly able because He enables us to accomplish the work he has given us to do. He works through our weaknesses. Helen Keller might never have spoken or understood if Anne Sullivan had looked at this blind and deaf child and been overwhelmed at the impossibility of the task. Instead, she took what little she had to work with and let God work a miracle through her.
Henri Nouwen commented on this miracle of multiplication. He said, "The opposite of a scarcity mentality is an abundancy mentality. With an abundancy mentality we say, "There is enough for everyone, more than enough: food, knowledge, love...everything." With this mind-set we give away whatever we have, to whomever we meet. When we see hungry people we give them food. When we meet ignorant people we share our knowledge; when we encounter people in need of love, we offer them friendship and affection and hospitality and introduce them to our family and friends. When we live with this mind-set, we will see the miracle that what we give away multiplies: food, knowledge, love...everything. There will even be many leftovers.
What really happened that day when -- with only five barley loaves and two fishes--everyone ate and was satisfied? Jesus worked with and through the disciples to feed the people. He did it then and he does it now. And who are his disciples? They are those to whom he gives and, then, they, in response to his gift, give to others. When Jesus and the disciples fed the crowd, he took five loaves and two fish and worked his miracle. Jesus continues to work that very same miracle today. And he chooses us even if we think we have very little to offer.
All of us are overwhelmed these days with the conflict going on in Iraq. We may have differing views of this war, but the loss of human lives and the destruction of people's homes are agonizing to everyone. But what can we do? What do we have to offer, small as it may be? Each of us must give this question serious consideration. Nevertheless, as our presiding bishop has said, "Prayer is a dimension of peace-making in which we can all engage. Prayer unites us to God and works in us the mind of Christ. Prayer is an invitation from God to open ourselves to God's larger desires for us and for humanity and all creation." Every one of us can pray for a resolution to this war and to every war; every one of us can pray for the safety of all those who are in peril during this conflict; every one of us can pray for the leaders of the nations; every one of us can pray for peace. And we must never underestimate the power of our prayers. For God will take our small of ferings and work miracles through them.
Most importantly, we are all called to offer what we have, no matter how insignificant we think our gifts to be. Maybe we feel like Moses or Amos or even Paul who, when called by God, responded that they had no gift of speech or were only humble farmers or were busy with worldly pursuits. Jesus gives us the task of working with what little we have to feed his people today. The great message of the feeding of the five thousand is that Jesus will take our small offerings and through the miracle of his love, we will accomplish great work. We must never demean our gifts. We must not allow ourselves to be overwhelmed by the needs of the world and by our own inadequacies. We must offer our gifts -- no matter how meager--to God. We must be willing to allow God to work miracles through us. When we do, there will be enough for all of us, with plenty left over.