A Faith from the Margins to the Web Reflection for the Tenth Sunday after Pentecost, Year B (Proper 12)
O God, the protector of all who trust in you, without whom nothing is strong, nothing is holy: Increase and multiply upon us your mercy; that, with you as our ruler and guide, we may so pass through things temporal, that we lose not the things eternal; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Jesus went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, also called the Sea of Tiberias. A large crowd kept following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing for the sick. Jesus went up the mountain and sat down there with his disciples. Now the Passover, the festival of the Jews, was near. When he looked up and saw a large crowd coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?” He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he was going to do. Philip answered him, “Six months’ wages would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little.” One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?” Jesus said, “Make the people sit down.” Now there was a great deal of grass in the place; so they sat down, about five thousand in all. Then Jesus took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated; so also the fish, as much as they wanted. When they were satisfied, he told his disciples, “Gather up the fragments left over, so that nothing may be lost.” So they gathered them up, and from the fragments of the five barley loaves, left by those who had eaten, they filled twelve baskets. When the people saw the sign that he had done, they began to say, “This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world.”
When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.
When evening came, his disciples went down to the sea, got into a boat, and started across the sea to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. The sea became rough because a strong wind was blowing. When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the sea and coming near the boat, and they were terrified. But he said to them, “It is I; do not be afraid.” Then they wanted to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat reached the land toward which they were going.
Faith from the Margins to the Web Contributors: Larry and Sarah
Larry always shows up exactly when I need him the most. He is impossible to schedule with, since his life is essentially a complicated algorithm of adventures in helping others and day labor for pay. But, throughout the years that we have known each other, there is not a day that I have not had brightened by his presence, smile, hug, or super-awful pun that he stretches out into a long story of sharing. I’m grateful to call him a friend.
I asked Larry to sit with me in this Gospel, because I wanted to see if he would come up with the same reflection that was on my mind. Of course, we did. It was a day like any other and none other for both of us. And so, the story goes like this…
Larry started: “You know, I knew when I saw you stand up there in front of everyone that something wasn’t quite right. Usually everyone is talking and laughing, but you all kind of looked serious. I didn’t know about all the food that had spoiled when the power went out. No one knew about how much or how little food there was that day. But I remember you stood up there and said, “Let’s give thanks for what we have and pray for abundance today.”
I added, “And then you stood up, and offered to pray for all of us, too” I added, “and you had the wisdom to pray for the volunteers and for the patience of those who were waiting. We all needed that prayer!”
Larry nodded, “I didn’t know how close things were until I started to help you all stocking the shelves. I think we were down to the last can of peas!” he chuckled.
I smiled a little thinking about it. I kept going into the spare room where we kept all the non-perishable food and bringing out whatever I could. We didn’t have fresh or frozen meat, but it seemed like our cans of salmon were multiplying. People took what they needed. Some people put back items they didn’t need, or passed on their turn, offering to use up what they had and come back another week. Some people took as much as they could and some as little. It didn’t matter. I felt like we were held in greater hands that day.
Larry nodded. “I never had really thought about how all those loaves and fishes multiplied” he said. “And then, there we were with enough food to feed maybe 50 people and we fed three times that.”
“I just kept praying,” I remembered, “God, grant abundance to this place. Make us abundant in love, give us what we need so others have what they need.” What I remember the most was not worrying. I had plenty I could have worried about, mind you. But I just wasn’t. Right down to the very last can, placed in the hand of the very last person, I knew that somehow we would be OK.”
“I could feel it” said Larry. “That day, none of us worried. It was calm, we drank our coffee and we chatted, we got what groceries we needed and we all left in love.”
“It’s like that line, ‘they all had enough, as much as they wanted…and when they all were satisfied…”
Larry chimed in, “YES! Satisfied. That’s it. There was enough, and by the next week, everything had been restocked and donated and you were still up and running.”
“Gathering up the leftovers” I chuckled. “I remember there was literally nothing left, and then when we were cleaning up someone came and dropped off the first donation for the next week. I set it on the pantry shelves and knew it, too, would multiply.”
It occurs to me that we are so quick to dramatize or diminish this story of feeding and abundance. It seems like an exaggeration or a tall tale. But it isn’t. God supplies abundantly, in ways that we cannot ask or imagine. That chilly Autumn day at food pantry, I knew in my soul that we were held in God’s abundance. It wasn’t a prosperity Gospel of good works; it was an in-breaking of God’s abundance into the messiness of our human lives, insuring that our needs were met.
It’s just like Larry showing up in my life over and over again, his smile and his humor and his optimism warm my heart. He said the same of me, and I treasure that. Not because of my own doing, but because God supplies what we need: an abundance of love in each other.