“Sir, give us this bread
always.” (John 6.34)
When I first went as a curate to St
Mary’s Bourne St, it was a church filled with both liturgical exotica and
elephant traps for the unwary priest.
So I learned very early on to be
careful with my intake of alcohol on a Sunday. There were drinks after church,
then discussion of the sermon in the Fox
and Hounds, then a lengthy lunch in the Poule
au Pot where the house wine comes in magnums.
By Solemn Evensong and Benediction, you
were often very grateful for a deacon and subdeacon on each elbow to hold you
up. And the rythms of the Latin became so familiar that they carried you
through the elaborate liturgy, and became etched in your mind.
V. Panem de caelo praestitisti eis.
R. Omne delectamentum in se habentem.
Which being interpreted leads us into
the subject of Jesus’ discourse in the Gospel today.
V. Thou hast given us bread from
Heaven.
R. Filled with all sweetness and
delight.
The Feeding of the 5,000 is the story which we read last week and is
the essential background of today’s Gospel.
It is set in the relative wilderness to the east of the sea of
Galilee, the Golan Heights, and is the only story, apart from our Lord’s
Passion, that is recounted in all four Gospels.
The disciples had just returned from a successful preaching tour -
thousands won to the Catholic faith - and were in need of a rest. So Jesus takes
them away to a quiet place.
But as usual, the grapevine soon spreads the news to the local
populace and this crowd of 5,000 men, not to mention women and children, gather
expectantly.
It is late in the day. And then the young boy’s picnic lunch (a
typical eye-witness account mentioned only in John’s Gospel) – the 5 loaves and
2 small fishes become the stuff of history.
The thoughtful Mother who wrapped them up and thrust them into her
son’s hands, no doubt with the instruction that he was to wear a vest as it got
chilly on the Golan Heights, could never have imagined that 2000 years later
billions of people would be spiritually fed by her simple act of motherly love.
But why did Jesus perform this miracle? The people were not about
to die. They would make it to their homes.
The Jesus of the four Gospels does not do tricks to try and
persuade the crowd that he is the Messiah.
Indeed, at the end of the story when the crowd want to hail him as
the new Prophet, he flees into hiding.
In most miracles, Jesus responds to need, and occasionally, as in
the water into wine, this story and the following sign of ‘walking on the water’,
he shows his mastery over nature and also provides teaching through such an
‘enacted parable’.
In other words, the primary function of the miracle is to
illustrate a concept he is trying to teach, usually to his immediate disciples.
And so it is here, that our Lord is making a simple point and, in
today’s Gospel reading, another much more complex point.
The simple point may be expressed in this way: Jesus is not nearly
as discouraged as we are, by the little we have to offer. In fact, one of the
prerequisites of true worship is the recognition of our inadequacy.
“What can I bring him, poor as I am.”
For Philip it was hopeless - ‘how can we feed them?’ For Andrew it
was a little better - he found the little that there was - and this was enough
for the Lord.
We are to bring what we have in the recognition that only the Lord
can multiply it to meet the needs that are there.
So in our worship: we bring our music, our liturgy, our preaching,
our vestments, our art and culture; with the recognition that it is inadequate,
but it is the best we can offer. Only Christ can transform it to worship in
Spirit and in Truth which is acceptable to the Father and which truly prepares
us for heaven.
And in our daily lives, our prayer must always be that God will
take what we offer, the little we are able to do, and by his power give our
acts of service significance and influence far beyond their meagreness.
But John’s Gospel also points to deeper truths in his account of
this incident.
There is a little phrase back in v.4: “and the Passover was nigh”.
The Passover. Here is John’s axis of interpretation.
There is a clear movement from miracle to theological discourse,
from Moses to Jesus, from bread to flesh.
Our Lord is preparing to show them that hard teaching that will make many leave him: he is the Bread come
down from heaven; Panem de caelo praestitisti eis; and
this bread is filled with all sweetness and delight.
Soon the Passover lamb must be slain and eaten, as a reminder that
the Angel of death ‘passed over’ the Israelites as they were being released
from slavery in Egypt.
And soon the Lamb of God must be slain and give his flesh and
blood for the salvation of the world.
This story is not just about feeding hungry people. It is about a
Saviour who alone can satisfy the spiritual hunger that is everywhere evident
in the world.
And there is yet deeper truth here. For even when we have
received, as we will in a moment, the Bread of Life, we are still not satisfied and as part of our human
condition we will long for more.
Listen to CS Lewis:
“All joy (as distinct from mere pleasure, still more amusement) emphasizes our pilgrim status, always reminds, beckons, awakens desires. Our best havings are wantings.” (Letter to Dom Bede Griffiths, 5 November 1954.)
Our best havings are wantings.
When we have had a satisfying meal, when we linger over the port,
is it not then that we most clearly realise that there is more to life than
good food and drink?
And when we have truly enjoyed a spiritual meal at mass in the
bread and wine, or in some private moment of spiritual revelation, do we not
then most clearly realise that we are spiritual pilgrims who have as yet only
just set off along the path together.
Remember the meaning of the word ‘companions’ - com (with) panis (bread) – it is those with whom we eat bread.
The 5000 were made companions by the presence of Jesus, who gave
them the bread.
And so too, week by week and day by day, we are made companions by
the presence of Jesus who gives us the transforming bread from heaven, filled
with all sweetness and delight, which always beckons us on to know God more
deeply.
So today, in the presence of the risen Christ, we understand more
now than those 5000 then, when we pray to Jesus with them:
“Sir, give us this bread
always.” (John 6.34)
