Readings: Ex. 16.2-7a;
Galatians 4.21-31; John 6.1-14
“Man shall not live by bread alone” Matt 4.4
Did I tell you about
the new Vicar who used to go into the village pub every Sunday evening after
Evensong and order two Gin and Tonics. He would drink them both and then order
another two.
After a few weeks of
this the barman asked him why he always bought his drinks in pairs.
“Well its quite
simple really” he said, “when my twin brother moved to work in Australia, we
decided whenever we were out drinking we would always order two as a reminder
of each other.”
After a few months
the priest came in and ordered just the one gin and tonic. The barman feared
the worst.
“Is everything
alright with your brother?” he asked.
“O yes” said the
priest “its just that its lent and I personally have given up alcohol.”
Part of the
discipline of self-denial for lent is to remind ourselves that there is more to
life than food and drink.
And in an inverse
sort of way, that is one aspect of John’s teaching in today’s Gospel - the
Feeding of the 5000.
Some think that
today, Refreshment Sunday, takes its name from the Gospel, when the 5000 were
refreshed. Others think it refers to the relaxation permitted this day of what
used to be draconian national Lenten discipline laws - you are allowed the
luxury of Simnel cakes today.
Of course it is also
called Mothering Sunday, perhaps because we are reminded in the Introit to the
Mass and the Epistle that ‘Jerusalem is Mother of us all.’ (4.26)
Or maybe it was the
practice of returning to the Cathedral or mother-church on this fourth Sunday
in Lent. Certainly it became the custom to visit your mother with a small gift
in some parts of England.
My mother always
spent the preceding weeks telling us children not to buy her anything, as it
was a waste of money. Of course we knew she meant life wouldn’t be worth living
if we didn’t buy her anything! But then she was very happy with a 6d bottle of
Lilly of the Valley from Woolworths.
Today’s Gospel is a
strange story, set in the relative wilderness to the east of the Sea of Galilee,
the Golan Heights. It’s the only story, apart from our Lord’s Passion, that is
recounted in all four Gospels. It was obviously an important part of early
Christian tradition.
In John’s framework
for his Gospel, based on the seven signs this is the fourth sign.
There was the water
into wine at Cana (when Jesus’ Mother whom we also honour on this day, reminded
us of the pattern of our discipleship: ‘Whatever He says to you, do it’); the
healing of the royal official’s son; the healing of the lame man; and now this
very earthy and in some ways, uncalled for, miraculous provision of food.
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, and presumably at least that number again of women and
children, gather expectantly.
Our Lord had trained
at the same seminary as Fr Bill Scott who I remember telling me when I didn't turn up for 7am Morning Prayer on my day off: ‘a Day Off is a privilege and not a right!’ Jesus knew when to rest but also when pastoral need should make him break his rest. So then the 5 loaves and the 2 fishes, a young
boy’s picnic lunch (a typical eye-witness account not mentioned in the other
Gospels) – this becomes 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 mothering 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 this 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 - walking on the water, he shows his mastery over nature
and also provides Gospel teaching through what is called 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, as it turns out later, another very
complex point, to his disciples.
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 and discipleship 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?’ he syas to Jesus.
For Andrew it was
more hopeful - he found the little that there was - and this was enough for Our
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.
It is important for us to recognise in our lives and in the life of our church, that we are always inadequate, and can only ever offer our little loaves and fishes.
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 is also
pointing to deeper truths in his account of this incident.
There is a little
phrase in v.4: “and the Passover was nigh”. (Mark’s account makes the same
point by another eye-witness touch - they sat down on the green grass. Any of
you who have been to the Holy Land will know that about the only time there is
any green grass on the Golan Heights is before Passover.)
The Passover. Here is
John’s axis of interpretation.
If you read on in
this chapter of John, there is a clear movement from miracle to theological
discourse, from Jesus to Moses (our OT reading), 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; the bread that satisfies the human heart and feeds the
soul.
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 even when we have
received the Bread of Life, as we will in a moment, we are not satisfied and as
part of our human condition we will and should long for more.
As CS Lewis says “All
joy (as distinct from mere pleasure, still more amusement) emphasises our
pilgrim status, always reminds, beckons, awakens desires. Our best havings are
wantings.”
Our best havings are
wantings.
The 5000 were fed and
we are fed. But like them, we will only truly find sustenance for our journey
when we bring the little that we have and are, and realise that
“Man shall not live by bread alone.” Matt 4.4
