Sermon.
26 July 2015. Trinity 8/Proper 12. St Michael and All Angels, Little
Ilford
2
Kings 4.42-44
John
6.1-21
Brothers and sisters, I was going to tease you, and pretend that I thought that you must be in shock – in shock by the fact that although we are in Year B, or the year of Mark, and there's no particular festival to complicate things, yet today's gospel comes from John. Of course, you are not in shock and have no reason to be. One of the things that happens in all three years is that John does get a look in at different points.
But
I still think it may be significant that it's precisely now, this
week, that we switch over to John. In Mark's gospel, we were due to
hear of the feeding of the five thousand, and so it is now that we
instead hear that same story from John.
'So
what?' you may say. Well, we preachers probably don't say this as
often as we should: until we get to events around the Last Supper
and the Cross and Resurrection, there are actually very few stories
which are found in all four gospels. Most people find three, or at
most four. So that the double story of the feeding of the five
thousand and the walking on the water are together found in all four
gospels (and that there are two miraculous feeding stories each in
Matthew and Mark) must mean that all gospel-writers thought this: you
could not truthfully tell the story of Jesus without telling how he
wonderfully fed others.
Let
me ask two questions. First, how many people did Jesus feed? 5000?
Well, as you have the English before you, it does indeed look like
there were 5000 persons. Jesus says: 'Make the people sit down',
using the word anthropos,
meaning a person, of either gender. But the Greek – not the English
but the Greek – tells us that there were around 5000 andres
– or men, male persons
there. So there may have been another 5000 women and at least that
number of children, as indeed the other gospels imply.
Second,
what actually happened? Actually that is a rhetorical question, and
you are right not to answer. The simple truth is that we are not
going to work out what actually happened. We have no way of getting
back behind the story to the history. Some would stress that what
happened was a miracle from heaven at Jesus' divine hands. Yes, but
the obvious problem with stressing that Jesus was the Son of Gd
because of his miracles is that the sceptic can reply: 'how do you
know he wasn't just a good magician?' And there's no one knock-down
answer to that question (and note it doesn't really matter what you
think magic is, whether some mysterious power or tricks of
misdirected attention). If we place our trust in Jesus, we do so
because of his character,
and not from wonder-working incidents in isolation.
Others,
then, speak instead of 'the miracle of generosity'. The miracle is
that the boy was able and willing to share his few morsels of food.
This in turn – so the interpretation goes – made others be honest
about the fact that they had food secretly stored about their own
person which could be shared. And so it turned out that there was
plenty of food all along. The problems with this include that, if the
message were truly one about having the courage to be generous, why
is that never mentioned in any of the accounts of this story? And,
beyond that, how to explain the superabundance of leftovers?
We
cannot get behind the gospel accounts to the so-called historical
facts. But, in truth, if we tried to, we'd lose more than we gain.
For John (like Matthew, Mark and Luke of course) crafts the details
of the story as he has them into a narrative that is rich and deep.
And it's especially rich and deep with resonances with the earlier
story of faith, the Hebrew story, which comes to us in the book we
call the 'Old Testament'.
And
so another question (my last): Who are the people in the Hebrew Bible
through whom Gd provides food miraculously? There are three obvious
ones (there may be others). Gd feeds through Moses, through Elijah
and Elisha. You were given the biggest hint about Elisha, of course –
as there he is, acting as Gd's agent, in our First Reading. Moses
also famously guides the people to the bread of Manna in the
wilderness. And through Elijah's presence the widow of Zarephath
finds that her meal and oil do not run out. To people who knew those
stories like the back of their proverbial hand, today's gospel is
full of echoes. Some details:
- Jesus goes up a high mountain. Both Moses and Elijah did this, and discerned the will of Gd from the top of it.
- Passover is near. Passover consists of a festival meal, and a retelling of the story of freedom, from slavery to freedom, and from the bread of affliction, to the manna of miracle in the wilderness.
- That the loaves are barley loaves reinforces this point – as Passover is also the barley harvest festival. And it equally reminds us of the miracle at Elisha's hands, as in the First Reading.
- That the disciples are doubtful and complain that the provisions are pitifully small is also an echo of what Elisha faced from those around him (and may also be resonant of the People of Israel murmuring in the wilderness).
- That nothing of the food is lost is a reminder of the Manna in the wilderness, where, however much a person gathered, they always had just enough. When Jesus in John goes on to speak about this wonderful feeding, he refers to Moses and the Manna explicitly.
- That said, that there is some (actually a great abundance left over) might differently remind us of the Manna too (where there had to be a double portion each Friday, so that the people did not have to gather on Shabbat) and of Elisha, as we have heard.
- Actually, even the story of Jesus' walking in the water echoes what Elisha did soon after Elisha's own miracle with the food – someone drops their axe deep into a river; Elisha makes it float to the surface, and be recoverable.
Now,
if you remember what I was saying about prophets a couple of weeks
ago, you will remember that not only Elijah and Elisha but Moses too
are all prophets, and that Moses prophesied that Gd was raise up a
prophet like him. So it isn't too much of a surprise that the
well-fed people think that Jesus is precisely that prophet, the
Prophet of the End Times, and so want to make him King. (Why and how
a prophet can also be a king is something we'll leave for another
time.) For Jesus does all that Moses, Elijah and Elisha did, but
exceeds their actions. This is seen supremely in the twelve baskets
of leftovers. Whether they symbolise the twelve apostles, and so the
new community, or the twelve tribes, and so the original community of
faith, the point is the same: here is abundance, new abundance, an
abundance before now unimaginable.
Much
more can be said, but I doubt if the core message would need to
change, or would be changeable. For that core surely says that Jesus
feeds us, nourishes us, gives us - and is
- the bread from heaven, the Manna, the food for our strengthening
and healing. But! But woe betide us if we seek to grasp hold of Jesus
and try to make him fit into our story of the way things should be.
And
there is one more thing. If you visit the Holy Land, you can go to a
traditional site for the wonderful feeding of the multitude. It is
called Tabgha in Arabic or Ein Sheva in Hebrew. There is a
Benedictine Church, known as the Church of the Multiplication (of the
Loaves) with a distinctive mosaic.
I
am pained to report that it was torched and vandalised in June of his
year. The criminals who attacked it left some graffiti, and it pains
me even more to say that that graffiti quoted a prayer against
idolatry from the Jewish prayer book. (I am afraid that I am bit
proud that I could actually make out what they wrote: ve-ha-elilim
karot yikkaretun' - 'and the
idols shall surely be cut off'.) They were claiming their violence
was in the name of faith. But, thanks be to Gd, the story does not
end there. The government and other Jewish leaders condemned the
attack. But some Orthodox rabbis have gone further. They have
explicitly said that this act of violence so contradicts Judaism that
Jews must raise funds for the restoration of this Church and they are
doing so.
So
out of the destruction comes a new hope, and a new hope for
Jewish-Christian reconciliation (and let us in turn hope for
Jewish-Christian-Muslim reconciliation) in the place where it is
likely to prove hardest, in Israel-Palestine itself. This act of good
will is not of course as dramatic as the original miracle. But it may
be that the cumulative weight of such minor miracles, about which
most people will never hear a thing, is what will feed us all, as we
make our way, care-fully but also hopefully, in this needy, hungry
world of ours. Amen.
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