Prayer and Call to Worship
PASTOR: Let us pray:
We praise you for feeding our hunger for bread & for “the bread of life.” We praise you for taking our little basket of fish & barley loaves and using it to feed others.
All: God, we praise You for Your unfailing Love.
P: Lord, we ask you for your care & compassion on those who are suffering in our world. Feed the hungry, house the homeless & gather the lonely in communities of friendship.
All: God, we praise You for Your unfailing Love.
P: Five loaves and two fish are never enough until You, Lord, start giving it away. Remind us daily to share whatever is in our basket today. You will do the rest.
All: Merciful God, we praise You for Your unfailing Love. We thank You for Your daily Love and Grace. , and all flesh will bless his holy name forever and ever.
Gospel : Matthew 14.13-21
Feeding the Five Thousand
13 Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns. 14 When he went ashore, he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion for them and cured their sick.
15 When it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.” 16 Jesus said to them, “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.” 17 They replied, “We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish.” 18 And he said, “Bring them here to me.”
19 Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven and blessed and broke the loaves and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. 20 And all ate and were filled, and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full. 21 And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children.
Sermon: Fed, nourished, and blessed.
A couple of times a summer during my early childhood, I remember a small thin man dressed in black politely knocking on our door about an hour before dinner time. His face looked old and weatherbeaten, and despite the season of summer and heat he always wore black clothing in layers.
He was not alone. He had his little dog with him. A whimsical little dog, a terrier, which could do all kinds of tricks on his command. The man also brough a cart with his belongings and most importantly his tools for sharpening household knives.
He came every summer, and my mom in some way expected him to knock on the door. He would politely and with a small bend in his knees and a tip on his black hat, ask my mom if the beautiful lady of the house had food for a hungry wanderer.
He was a vagabond – a wanderer, a drifter, a hobo, a free bird and spirit, a homeless hungry soul who knew where to go year after year. He had a route, he had his places where he was expected, welcomed and fed.
My mom and my sisters and I were never afraid of him. Why should we be? He was simply a poor hungry but kind homeless man asking for a meal and maybe a cold beer.
My mom always greeted him kindly and he got a plate of food - even if he never wanted to sit at the table with us. He ate outside, with his dog – sharing meal and time with his dearest buddy.
When I think back, I am amazed that my parents also invited him to stay for the night. Not in the garage or the chicken farm stables. Not outside but inside. He slept one night in our guestroom before he left early the following day with a lunch bag, a couple of beers and some money in his pockets. With best wishes we waved goodbye to him and his sweet little dog. He was fed and nourished, mom had sharpened knives and an extra load of dirty laundry.
I do not remember his name, but I remember his face and demeanor – his kindness and respect, his gratitude and his tricks.
This happened in late sixties, beginning of seventies in Denmark – and from stories told by my dad and my grandparents there had always been these vagabonds, these drifters that drifted pass the farms, homes and families in the countryside. Looking for a meal and sometimes a place to rest their weary tired body. They were homeless and hungry, down on their luck, not fitting into society norms or family settings, having drinking issues maybe or mental issues too – but it was good to help them, feed them and nourish them. Nothing to fear, only kindness to show and share.
I have often thought about these incidents in my childhood that left a deep impression on me. My mom’s sweetness, my dad’s kindness and the lack of fear for the stranger. If my mom and dad could welcome and feed someone so strange and different in our own home, we can think about today how we feed, nourish and care for the homeless and hungry.
Some 50-55 years later, when I read Matthews telling of the feeding of the multitude, it is the words of Jesus that resonate with me: “They need not go way. You give them something to eat!”
Like my mother, I hear these words addressed to me and us.
But like the first disciples, I am overwhelmed. For there are so many to feed. There are thousands living on the street in need of shelter.
As Matthew tells the story, the disciples do recognize the problem. The people listening to Jesus by the lakeside are surely many and hungry. As they can see it, there is precious little available to eat and share. So, they imagine a practical solution: we will buy more.
Jesus startles them with his response: “You give them something to eat!” As they look at the five loaves of bread and two fish.
A couple of months ago, I went to First Lutheran church in Fullerton to be part of the good work of feeding the homeless “Caring Hands.” A generous local restaurant had prepared the meals that just needed to be heated and served along with water, soda and desserts. As we opened the doors to the parking area, many people were already waiting patiently in line. Hungry, homeless and lonely.
Handing out food and water, nourishment and care to those in need – touches you in a deep sense. You see their eyes of hunger and thirst, you hear their voices of gratitude and joy, you witness the tender care of the mother to the small kids in the line, the sorrow of the old man, the dirty clothes and ragged bags of belongings. And you witness the miracle of sharing, feeding and nourishing that is simple and yet sacred.
“All ate and were filled.” Come with me next time we have a call to help, feed and nourish.
In a couple of weeks, a small group of us will be going to the border for worship and a visit. WE will join for Worship and Lunch as we worship on the Mexican side of the Border with Border Church at Friendship Park in Tijuana. WE will share communion and lunch and time at the border on the Mexican side with immigrants, family members, volunteers, other Lutherans from other Lutheran churches – and we will visit the Refuge that feeds, cares for, shelters unaccompanied immigrant children caught by chance, circumstances and bad luck. We will share a day of compassion, justice and hope amongst people who need nourishment, food and shelter.
There are indeed so many to feed and give shelter. In our neighborhood.
Among our homeless. At the borders. In the world.
“Bring the loaves and fished to me” Jesus says.
On so many levels this sentence of Jesus contradicts and challenges our way of thinking; our fear of scarcity and our want to protect what we have. It is all about me – and the fear of the other, the stranger, the poor, the immigrant, the hungry and the homeless.
To even notice the hungry knocking on our door, seem to be profoundly difficult and scary. And yet Jesus does not send the hungry crowd away, he makes sure that is enough for all.
“Few have too much and fewer have to little,’ is a phrase attributed to Danish educator, pastor, poet and theologian Grundtvig, who is also credited helping inspire the Daish Welfare state. “In wealth, we have come far, when few have too much and fever to little.”
To share, to distribute, to balance, to create justice and equality in a society of plenty.
This kind of life and dream is daring as it does not begin with fear or protectionism but with compassion and grace.
That is why it is so important for us as a church to share communion every Sunday. To come to the table. Together. Side by side. Shoulder by shoulder we kneel and receive. The same small tokens of bread and wine. Symbols of compassion, grace and humanity.
At the table of communion, we all meet. The vagabond, the hungry, the homeless, the immigrant child, the retired, the busy, the young, the old, the rich, the poor, the queen… we meet as we all know that we do not live by bread alone but by every word, every blessing, every forgiving promise, every compassionate handshake or heartfelt ….
Listening to the miracle of feeding the many and listening to the words of Isaiah: “Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good.”
Listening to these words this Sunday Morning – and looking at the bulletin cover: All ate and were filled.”
I am reminded that there is such a fine connection between my mom feeding the drifter and his dogs full of tricks, the organized caring hands in Fullerton, the Border Church and our Table of communion.
We are called, we are fed.
We are nourished, we are sent.
We share as we can and should, - and we ask Jesus to provide.
“You give them something to eat.” Jesus said, they did, and we do.
Five loaves and two fish are never enough until Jesus, starts giving it away. Remind us daily to share whatever is in our basket today. Jesus will do the rest. The miracle of sharing and caring is speaking to us every day. “They need not go away. You give them something to eat.”
AMEN