March 26, 2006
(Fourth Sunday in Lent)

All You Can Eat

By The Very Rev. Terry White, Dean

2 Chronicles 36:14-23  •  Psalm 122  •  Ephesians 2:4-10  •  John 6:4-15
(From The Lectionary Page)

In my opinion, what barbecue is to Kansas City, the fish fry is to Wisconsin. People will pack into restaurants, taverns, VFW and parish halls to feast on fish and all things fried. Even on those balmy Wisconsin summer days, all 14 of them, when the fish boil is the rage in resort communities, the fish fry still reigns supreme.

Linda Sue and I spent four years B.C. (before children) living in Wisconsin, and when we correspond with a couple who became good friends, either they or we will mention the wonderful meals we shared at fish fries. And as you would imagine, the most popular fries were held on Fridays in Lent.

Just as all barbecue establishments are not created equal, some fish fries clearly rise to the top. Those featuring lake perch usually were the best. As you and I may passionately debate which is the best kind of smoke for beef or pork, the eternal question of breading versus beer-batter coating was known to divide families for generations.

No matter what the dining venue, the best-loved fish fries all ended up looking similar. A platter of perch, accompanied by any or all of the following: fried potatoes, fried onion rings, fried zucchini, fried mushrooms, and fried cauliflower. Being Wisconsin, fried cheese curds were offered as appetizers. And I swear that several establishments served a version of fried coleslaw. Rye bread slathered with Wisconsin butter (beware of asking for any other spread) completed the essential menu.

And the only thing that could possibly make the meal any better was a profound four-word phrase: All You Can Eat.

Few phrases are more effective at getting people’s attention. According to John’s account of this meal of bread and fish, some 5,000 people were clearly hungry before and clearly satisfied after. There’s a message here for us and our cathedral.

Hunger can make the most docile creature irritable and even lead to aggressive behavior in animals and humans alike. Intense hunger leads to weakness and disease. A baby just hours-old can quite effectively let a parent and everyone else within 20 yards know when he or she is hungry. And we know the sure signs of hunger in ourselves and those in our household: we get a little sleepy, or a tummy growls, or we over-react to a little thing. These are but a few of the things that happen when our body is hungry.

There are also signs when our soul is hungry.

• When I find it impossible to forgive someone, my soul is hungry.
• When I cannot be generous with my money, time, or praise of others who deserve it, my soul is hungry.
• When I find fault more easily than I acknowledge blessing, my soul is hungry.
• When fear motivates me, not hope; when the so-called practical things overrule what faith says, and when I trust in things seen more than in things unseen, in those times, my soul is hungry.
• When worshipping God in my faith community on the Lord’s Day becomes optional, that is a sure sign of a hungry soul.
• When the print and electronic media influence me more than the scriptures and prayer, that is another huge sign that my soul is hungry.
• In short, when my love of God and my love of neighbor are seen in relative terms and not absolute terms, then my soul is hungry, if not famished.

They are also tell-tale signs of when we as the Church are hungry.

• When the Church justifies discrimination for the sake of what is called tradition,
• when the prophet’s call to serve the poor lacks money and creativity,
• when the energy around political issues in the church is much higher than the energy we have for living out Jesus’ call to be peacemakers, evangelists, and people who forgive not seven times but seventy-seven times – these are all signs of how hungry we have become.

In terms of faith, we must never diet. The Lenten fast must be a feast for our souls so that we become greater servants.

Suppose we were to change our signs at the corners of this block to read: Sunday. All You Can Eat. 8 a.m., 10:15 a.m., 5 p.m.

Could we advertise that in good conscience? What must you and I change or become so that both what we encounter and serve up here satisfies what you and I and others are truly hungry for? We must commit to becoming more and more a House of Bread, where all who eat are satisfied, and, after all have encountered Christ, there is more left over than what we began with.

Notice that John says that fragments of the barley loaves were leftover – they evidently sold out of fish – but fragments of five loaves filled 12 baskets. I know that I have a far ways to travel to comprehend what God’s abundance means, how twelve baskets can remain. But at the same time, if you and I travel that road together, and feast on the Bread of Life on our journey, we may learn for ourselves and for the Church what it means to be satisfied.

A widely practiced rule in Wisconsin was to never pay for just one plate of fish – always choose all you can eat. May we never settle for one serving of Grace, for Jesus offers us as much as we need to be satisfied. Then, once fed, may we in turn, serve, love, forgive, and encourage others just as generously.