Imagine the scene. The ministry of Jesus is in full swing and the groundswell of followers is growing by the day. By now there are rumors of miraculous events and healings. The message is one of love – love for God, others, and for ourselves – as the way of salvation. He’s hanging out with outcasts and he is even believed to have told a despised Samaritan woman that he was the Messiah. He calls himself the Son of Man and talks about being the Bread of Life and Living Water. To the crowds that are clamoring for a glimpse of him he is hope. To the religious leaders and Roman officials he is trouble.
On this day the crowds came to Jesus in Galilee for Passover instead of to the temple in Jerusalem. Think about that. This is a pivotal moment in the trajectory of the movement. Drawn to Jesus and his message of love and his acts of compassion the people are coming to him in droves. You can bet your bottom denari that the religious leaders and Roman government power-brokers were not going to stand for it. They had already issued threats, and not only against Jesus, but against anyone who followed him. And yet they came … by the thousands. They may have been having physical hunger pangs, but there is a deeper hunger that this story is about. That day Jesus fed the masses with bread and fish, but he also fed the need for a community, and hope, and love.
In reflecting on this story of the feeding of 5,000 people on the Galilean hillside, an obvious choice for me was to talk about abundance and generosity and how God can turn a meager resource into something truly amazing. But it feels remiss to not talk about challenges we face as a global and local community. Life in first century Galilee under the lash of Roman and religious oppression was surely hard. But life in the twenty-first century can be hard too for so many here and around the world.
There is enough food produced in the world to feed everyone on the planet. Yet, according to the global humanitarian organization Action Against Hunger more than 783 million people still go hungry. Fourteen million children suffer from severe acute malnutrition and 45% of child deaths worldwide are due to hunger related causes. Nearly one in ten people will go to bed hungry tonight and every night from a crisis driven largely by wars, climate change, and chronic inequality.
The numbers are staggering and the need is great. How can we alleviate such suffering? As Andrew said that day, how can a few loaves of bread and a couple of fish make a difference.
There are a many … too many … brothers and sisters right here on the central coast whose only home is the streets. I have become friends with a growing number whose names are on our daily prayer list in our community. They are people like Tim, whom I have now known since our arrival here almost three years ago. Tim is from Fresno and sets up on the corner of Higuera & Morro Streets in San Luis Obispo. He creates art pieces and displays them on a small table. There is Big Ronnie from the bay area, Lucy from Santa Barbara, Adriana from Ventura, Manuel and his dog Babe, Tia and her husband Joshua, and Reese the guitar man. I’ve had lunch with Ray and coffee at Starbucks with Dean. I know from personal experience that our friends may need a few bucks to help get them through the day, but what may be even more important is that they feel seen – that they feel a part of the community. We all need to be fed with dignity and a sense of belonging.
In the years when I walked with Sister Greta in the jails, she used to describe it as walking around with a big basket of bread and feeding people. I love that image. The bread was that of compassion and kinship and it was baked with love. And like that day on the hill in Galilee, There was enough for everybody.
Fr. Greg Boyle, the founder of Homeboy Industries in L.A. says this: “In the end, the measure of our compassion with the ‘Least, the Lost, and the Last” lies not in our service of those on the margins, but in our willingness to see ourselves in kinship with them. Jesus doesn’t speak of how grand it is to feed the hungry or visit folks in jail. His identity with them is total. I am the jailed one. I am the hungry one. It speaks of a kinship so mutually rich that even the dividing line of ‘service provider/service recipient’ is erased.”
The Latin root word for “companion” is companis, which means “bread” or “loaf,” or more literally, “to be bread for one another.” As companions, we are all called to be bread for each other – to nourish one another. In the process, we are transformed. It is in these communal acts of love and compassion that the Reality of God comes into focus. It is there that we meet Jesus.
If you ever find yourself feeling like what you have to offer is too little or not enough, just remember that was what Andrew thought. Don’t ever underestimate the value of a single conversation. It might make all the difference for someone who feels invisible. It might even feel like a miracle.
In a few minutes we will come forward for Communion and share in the bread of life together. When we do, we bring with us all those we have encountered along the way to this table. We will take the Bread of Life within us as nourishment for our journey. Then, we will be encouraged to go from here in kinship with a hungry world.
I will finish with this short poem
God came to my house and asked for charity.
And I fell on my knees and cried,
“Beloved, what may I give?”
Just love, She said.
Just love.
St. Francis of Assisi (revised)
Brother Dennis
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