HOMILY DELIVERED BY
THE REVEREND DR. HAROLD T. LEWIS, RECTOR
CALVARY EPISCOPAL CHURCH, PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA
ON THE FOURTH SUNDAY IN LENT
26 MARCH 2006

 

"There is a lad here, who has five barley loaves and two fish; but what are they among so many?" (John 6:9)

 

 

Those of you who have been subjected to my preaching over a period of time know that I have a penchant for pointing to the obtuseness ---- sometimes the downright dim-wittedness of the disciples. All too often, they just don't seem to get it! But my unflattering comments about the disciples are not meant to disparage them, really; they are meant to give us hope. In other words, if the band of men whom Jesus chose to be his closest followers and who later became the princes of the church and the church's first missionaries fall short of the mark, there is hope for us. If at times, we just don't get it, we are in good company!

 

Philip is one of the disciples with whom we have little reason to be especially impressed. He is clearly not the sharpest pencil in the apostolic box. He doesn't come across as an original thinker. Although he tells Nathaniel about Jesus, Nathaniel's question "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" is answered simply, "Come and see" (John 1:46). At one point, Jesus even appears to be exasperated with Philip. When Jesus, in the Upper Room near the end of his earthly life, tell the disciples, "I am the way, the truth and the life" Philip's response is so obtuse that Jesus says to him, "Have I been with you so long, and yet you have not known me, Philip?" (John 14:9).

 

Today's Gospel is the familiar story of the feeding of the five thousand (the only miracle that appears in all four Gospels) Jesus, in plotting a strategy for dealing with the hungry crowd, asks Philip, "Where are we to buy bread so that these people may eat?" Philip is only able to take the question literally, and, to his credit, he comes up with a quick calculation that half a year's wages would not be sufficient to provide a little sustenance for each person in the crowd. Perhaps Philip is a patron saint to many of us, who are basically good and even reliable, but not particularly adventurous, heroic or theologically brilliant. And it is precisely because Jesus was all too familiar with Philip's temperament, that he challenges him with the question, or as St. John tells us, "This he said to test him for he himself knew what he would do."

 

The other disciple who figures prominently in this miracle story is Andrew, the disciple whose greatest claim to fame was that he brought his brother Peter to Jesus. In an attempt to help out his friend, Philip, Andrew volunteers the information that a little boy in the crowd had five loaves and two small fish, but in the same breath he makes it clear that that couldn't possibly be a solution to the problem at hand. "But what are these among so many?" he asks.

 

Philip and Andrew are alive and well today. Their descendants are on every vestry, board of directors, city council, and every other group of people charged with making decisions. There are Philips who are always quick to point out the enormity of the problem, and there are Andrews who can be depended upon always point to the meager resources at the disposal of the group in question, which would render the project impossible. If the sentiments of the Philips and Andrews among us were to prevail, very few new initiatives would ever be undertaken.

 

Like every other passage of Scripture, there are many ways to read this story. We can see it as a miracle, in which Jesus suspends the laws of nature. He manages to take one boy's lunch, and use it to feed multitudes. But a Biblical miracle is not a magic trick. It actually accomplishes something. Jesus, here, as elsewhere, actually meets the physical needs of the people. He feeds their bodies in order that they would be able to hear the Gospel. But the miracle was also a sign. The people on the hillside that day were not simply impressed that a basket of food could feed all of them. As Peter Gomes, the distinguished preacher to Harvard University reminds us, when the miracle was performed the people didn't murmur among themselves, "Gee, how did he do that?" or "What a neat trick!" The real miracle is that they saw in Jesus "the prophet who is to come into the world." They saw Jesus for who he was: God's message to the world.

 

We can also see the story through another set of lenses --- spiritual or theological lenses --- which enable us to understand it as a foreshadowing of the eucharist. If John's words, that Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed them to the people, have a familiar ring to them, it is because they remind us of the actions of Jesus which we reenact week by week in the celebration of Holy Communion.

 

But I would like to suggest that yet another way we can see this passage is that it shows us the difference between the way we human beings do things as opposed to the way God does things. We see limitations; God sees potential. We see impediments; God sees opportunity. We see paucity; God sees plenty. Left to the disciples, the people would have left the hillside physically and spiritually hungry. Because of Jesus, not only did they get enough to eat, but there were twelve baskets full of leftovers.

 

But wait, there's more! We must guard against interpreting this passage too spiritually. That phrase might seem strange coming from the lips of a preacher. Is it possible to be "too spiritual?" Absolutely! I think we all know people whose piety is such that we say that they are so heavenly as to be of no earthly good! Such people spiritualize, even romanticize poverty, claiming that the poor people are closer to God. I maintain that people who say this have never been poor themselves! Poor and hungry people are not poor and hungry because there is more piety in their DNA. People are poor and hungry because our world continues to mismanage the resources God has given us. This is why what we are fond of calling "outreach" is part and parcel of the Gospel.

 

People are "too spiritual" in another way. They take so seriously Paul's advice to "pray without ceasing" that they spend their life on their knees and therefore never stand up so that they can put their prayers into action. We must not lose sight of the fact that Jesus actually feeds the multitudes; he actually satisfies their physical hunger. By filling their stomachs, he made it possible for their hearts to be addressed. Otherwise put, he knew that they could not accept the teachings of the Gospel if their stomachs were growling. Not only because their hunger would be a distraction, but because they would have the right to ask "What kind of religion is this that does not care about my basic physical needs?" Jesus was consistent in terms of meeting people's spiritual needs. Look at any of the miracles stories. When people came to him with an issue of blood, or a withered hand, or a crooked spine, he didn't say to them, "Not to worry; you'll be whole when you get to heaven." Rather, he healed them, saying "your faith has made you well," and then proceeded to share with them the good news of the Gospel.

 

In a few moments, we will approach this altar, extend our palms and open our lips to receive the Body and Blood of Christ. On the face of it, it is meager fare, a wafer which in fact bears little resemblance to bread, and a sip of wine. It will hardly satisfy our spiritual hunger. But as in the miracle on the mountainside, the slim rations in the hands of Jesus are more than enough to satisfy our deepest human need. We are halfway through our Lenten journey, and despite whatever personal conflicts we are experiencing, despite the turmoil in the Episcopal Church, despite an ugly war of specious origin and dubious purpose being waged in the name of the American people, halfway round the world, we stay the course. We bring before God "our selves, our souls and bodies to be a reasonable, holy and living sacrifice." Like Philip, we know all too well the enormity of the problems we face. Like Andrew, we know that our resources are few. But we do not lose heart, because we know that in the hands of Jesus, who can still work miracles for us and through us, we can obtain, in the words of a great collect, "more than we either desire or deserve."

 

Let us pray:
Bread of heaven, on thee we feed, for thy Flesh is meat indeed;
Ever may our souls be fed with this true and living Bread;
Day by day with strength supplied, through the life of him who died.