LENT IV

March 14, 2010

St. Augustine Anglican Church

“As much as they would.”

The Rev. Gerald Parks +

          The significance of today’s Gospel account of the feeding of the multitude (John 6:1-14) is not realized by considering the numbers of those present.  The miracle is not that so many were fed that day, though by any account there were a lot of them.  But whether it was four thousand of five thousand, depending on the account read (or some other entirely different number), the numbers of those who ate of our Lord’s abundance are only a small part of the significance of the story.

          “There is a lad here, which hath five barley loaves, and two small fishes,” Andrew said, “but what are they among so many?” (John 6:9)  The disciples were sure that a boy’s small lunch was obviously not the answer to feeding so many, yet we are told Jesus “himself knew what he would do.” (John 6:6)  And what He did was first to have everyone sit down; then He gave thanks, or asked a blessing; then He started passing out the boy’s small lunch to His disciples and, through them, to everyone present – not just a taste or a nibble, but “as much as they would.” (John 6:11)  Everyone there ate their fill and was satisfied.

          You might wonder that at some point someone must have asked, “Wait a minute, what’s going on here?”  But if they did, there is no mention of it.  Instead it is said that when everyone had eaten, Jesus told the disciples, “Gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing be lost.” (John 6:12)  And when they did, they found that the fragments remaining filled twelve baskets – far more than the five loaves and two fishes with which they started.

          It was a real miracle, and the people there recognized it as such, recognizing also in Jesus “that prophet that should come into the world.” (John 6:14)  The feeding of the multitude was a “sign” to them of the Messiah.  That is to say the Messiah they expected would be a prophet like Moses, who had fed the people of God with bread from heaven, during their wanderings in the wilderness (Deut. 18:15); and like Elisha, upon whom Elijah’s mantle had fallen, who had fed a hundred men with twenty “loaves of barley.” (2 Kings 4:42-44)

          The miraculous feeding of the multitude contains other lessons for us today.  Primary among them is our Lord’s concern over the material needs of His people.  He would not have them go hungry or be anxious over their daily bread.  And in His concern can be seen His teaching, “your heavenly Father knoweth ye have need of all these things” (Matt. 6:32); and, “How many…servants of my father have bread enough and to spare” (Luke 15:17).  The gift of the young boy’s simple lunch stands in marked contrast to the doubts of the disciples, that Jesus could make so small an offering sufficient to the need.  Their doubts are often reflected in our own, as we wrestle with problems that seem to have no remedy.  Like them, we can’t seem to see that if we put our trust in Christ, all things are possible.  A gift, no matter how insignificant it may seem to us, if given entirely and without reservation to the glory of God, will be blessed and made more than abundant for His purposes.  As in the feeding of the multitude, our small gifts to God are never diminished by being used by Him, but are increased beyond our imagining; more remains after the satisfaction He gives than was ever offered to begin with.

          The early Christians saw in our Lord’s miracle the primitive beginning, or foreshadowing of the Eucharist, whereby the Lord made Himself know to them “in the breaking of bread.”  How odd it must seem to some that God would choose to make Himself manifest in something as simple and commonplace as a meal!  And yet, why should He not choose it?  All creatures must eat and drink if they are to receive the necessary sustenance to maintain life; and the parallel between maintaining human life by the bread we eat, and the maintaining of eternal life through the giving of that bread by the hand of God, seems obvious.  Our Lord is present in the Eucharist in ways that are as mysterious and wonderful to us as was His feeding of the multitude on that far away hillside.  And He bids us to lay aside all our cares and our human anxieties and come to His Supper, to know Him “in the breaking of bread.”

          We live in a time when many Christians, in some cases our friends and close relatives, have lost interest in our Lord’s Eucharistic presence; and a time when in many churches the Eucharist in any form is totally absent or, at least, infrequent, and then only a symbolic observance.  Some years ago, one of my daughters attended her friend’s church, which was one of those.  And when she returned, she was asked, “How was it?”  And her reply was revealing: “It was nice,” she said, “but it didn’t seem much like Church; they didn’t even have Communion.”  There are many churches like that (sometimes it seems there is one on every corner), just as there are many Christians who no longer care to expend the energy necessary, although they know they should, to come to our Lord’s Supper.  And that is a shame.

          Jesus presents to us a great banquet, and bids us to eat our fill; and yet many of us won’t do that.  It seems we would rather starve to death than partake of what He offers in abundance.  And so instead of joining in His feast, we barely survive on the scraps offered to us by others, leaving us spiritually malnourished and unfulfilled.   Christ offers Himself to us in the breaking of bread, just as He did to the multitude, “As much as they would.”  But it is our choice as to how much or how little we receive of His bounty.

          As we enter into the final weeks of Lent, preparing for the darkness of Holy Week, and looking forward to the light and brightness of Easter, let us consider how our Lord is present for us in the Eucharist, making Himself known “in the breaking of bread.”  And let us also consider those who, through choice or ignorance, are spiritually starving to death, for lack of Him – and pray for them.