THEY DIDN’T PANIC. THEY WAITED.
Matthew 14:13-21
Sermon presented on August 3, 2008
The story of Jesus’ Feeding the 5000 is the only one of his miracles that’s reported in all four Gospels. Clearly the Bible regards this as an event of first importance. What might be the real miracle here, though, isn’t the multiplication of the loaves and fishes, as such. Rather, what’s most miraculous is the peoples’ trust that Jesus will do exactly what he says he’ll do: provide them something to eat. Virginia Stem Owens, in Looking for Jesus, writes: “This story chronicles an actual instance when, at least once in this world’s history, people took Jesus at his word. They didn’t panic. They waited.”
Maybe that’s because there’s food involved. There’s always been a close relationship between Christians and food. USA Today on Monday reported the latest college rankings. Did you see that article? They’re rather subjective, of course, but still fun. Categories included the best party school – University of Florida, which I’m glad to see, because for years my college got that ranking, which was always a little embarrassing. Florida is welcome to it. Among the other rankings were: most beautiful campus – Princeton; best professors – Middlebury; the “greenest,” that is, most friendly to the environment – Arizona State. Here’s the category that caught my eye: best food – Wheaton. Wheaton is an evangelical Christian college, just outside Chicago. Let other institutions seek greatness in regard to other things. When it comes to food – it’s the Christian college that can boast, “We’re Number One! We’re Number One!”
There are a variety of positions and postures which might be imagined as characteristic of the Christian faith: bowing to pray, reaching-out to another, singing in praise. But perhaps the most characteristic of all places for Christians to be is at table. Over-and-over again in scripture God’s provision of food is seen as an example in-miniature of His gracious providence more broadly. There’s God’s supplying the exodus-people with manna from heaven, day-by-day. There’s Isaiah’s bold declaration – “Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters/and you that have no money/come, buy and eat . . ./delight yourselves in rich foods.” Recall, as well, Jesus’ decision to spend his final hours of his earthly life sharing a meal with friends. And there’s the remarkable occurrence following the resurrection, when the disciples did not recognize the risen Christ, until he broke bread and shared it with them, and at that moment their eyes were opened and they knew who he was. Story-after-story in scripture places food at its center, not merely as the setting, but as an integral element in God’s saving work.
The New Testament passage before us today may be counted as one of those stories. You know how it goes, of course. A great crowd had followed Jesus out into the countryside, where he taught and healed. As evening drew near the disciples advised him to wrap things up, so people would have time to return to their villages for dinner. “Jesus said to them, ‘They need not go away; you give them something to eat’.” But they had among them a mere five loaves and two fish, inadequate provisions for a great crowd. Jesus “ordered the crowd to sit down on the grass.” Then, it is written: “taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave it to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And all ate and were filled . . .”
From scarcity Christ brought abundance; from shortage, provision; from loss, gain; from the impossible, possibility. All thanks be to God for His great love, which we see declared and demonstrated in this great story. In any language we may respond to God’s abundant goodness with the glad chorus: “Fairest Lord Jesus/Ruler of all nature/Thee will I cherish/Thee will I honor/Thou, my soul’s glory, joy and crown!” Or, as we used to pray before meals at summer church camp: “Rub-a-dub-dub/thanks for the grub/Yay, God!” Yay, God, indeed!
But let’s return to this idea that the miracle of God’s provision is not the only, and may not even be the most remarkable, of the miracles at-play here. What’s astonishing, as well, is that noticeable lack of anxiety among the people in the crowd.
As dinner time approaches we might expect to observe some fretting and fussing. People respond to anxiety differently, of course. We might expect some in the crowd to start acting angry. “You coaxed us all the way out here, Jesus. Then you talked on . . . and on . . . and on . . . all afternoon. Here’s an idea, Jesus: maybe you should use an outline. I’m hungry. The kids are hungry. What are we supposed to do now?” Or, people being people, we might expect others to act, not angry, but cynical. “I think I’ve seen all I ever want to see of this Jesus-fellow, thank you, Jesus and his little team of fishermen-helpers. Please. Supposedly they want followers, but then they show no regard for those who do follow.” Others might be feeling duped, or exasperated, or just plain hungry, with whatever anxieties hunger provokes. Seneca wrote: “A hungry person listens not to reason, nor cares for justice, nor is bent by any prayer.” Such are some of the frettings and fussings we might have expected from the crowd that day.
But, no, there was none of this, nothing like it. Jesus’ teachings, what they’d heard him say that day, and his healing touch, what they’d seen him do, these things seem to have had an effect on them. There was no grumbling. In this story only the disciples seem anxious. When Jesus gave instructions for everyone to sit down, they did. They didn’t panic. They waited. They didn’t know all there was to know about Jesus, of course. And, lest we get carried-away with fanciful notions of the faithful crowd, let’s not forget that a crowd later turned its collective hostility against Jesus and provoked officials to crucify him. But in this story, anyway, at this one moment in time, these people knew (or perhaps sensed more than knew) that they were in good hands, that somehow in the presence of Jesus they felt part of something larger, and greater, and holier, and more wonderful by far, than their own mere material existence.
When we come to the table, may we be graced with this awareness, as well. To the scarcity of our lives, Christ brings abundance. To our shortage, Christ brings provision. When we are at a loss, Christ brings gain. And when are facing the impossible, Christ opens-up new possibilities. There is no need to be worried and anxious about a great many things, not to panic. Let us wait on the Lord.
