“Leftovers”

About 20 years ago, I led a group of college students on a mission trip to Kenya.  My sense of “mission trips” is that the people going receive the greatest benefit.  We went to ngong hills outside Nairobi, after seeing the city, we got back to the church and there were about 150 school children sitting in the rough wooden pews.  They had been waiting for us to arrive and they sand songs for us, we sang for them.  (No I wasn’t allowed to do a solo)  We had been told that many of the children there had not eaten for a day, sometimes there is food for the school lunch program and sometime not, some of the children could afford to go to school and many could not.  We were given boxes of cookies, shortbread to share with the children, so we began to hand them out to the children who were eager to accept.  Then came a very awkward moment, the elders of the church brought out about fifteen sandwiches for the guests to share and continue in conversation with the group.  It was clear that the sandwiches were for us and that the children were not included in the headcount.  They had been invited to remain and meet us and ask questions about America.  That’s when one member of the group said, I can’t do this, we can’t just eat these and not share.  We ate this morning, they didn’t.  Let’s give them what is here.   It was the closest thing to the feeding of the five thousand I have ever seen.  Those few sandwiches were divided up and divided up such that everyone got at least two pieces.  That wasn’t the part that got to me.  It was at this point that one person in our group, Lisa, had the courage to show unchecked honest emotion and began to openly cry.  Some in the group offered a hug or a kind word, as she said there is so much hunger, so much poverty, is this all we can do hand out a few bites?  The sight I will not forget is an elder from the church drying her tears saying “we have Jesus, that is enough.”

The feeding of the 5000 is the only “miracle” of Jesus that is recorded in all four of the gospels.  This incredible event takes place after Jesus has taught many of the parables and word about him has begun to spread.  People are flocking to see him and hear him.   So in our story, five thousand have gathered, and here, sadly only “males” would be in that count, so there were probably women and children as well, who knows how many in total.   Maybe 15,000 people. 

While Matthew, Mark and Luke don’t mention where the bread and fish comes from.  In John’s retelling of this story, we hear that the loaves and fish came from a young boy.  Like many others who play such important in scripture, we don’t know who is the little boy was, but we do know what a difference he made. It is easy to imagine that there were some in the crowd, who stayed at a distance,  and were too far removed to really understand what happened.  The question,  “Who was that little boy?”  is a good one – for without him – this miracle may not have happened. When Jesus was responding to the needs that were around him, the little boy was the only one who brought forth something to share. He was the only one willing to come forward and say “here’s what I have I know it’s not much but you could have it.”

There’s great deal to be learned from considering how Jesus interacted with the crowds and the disciples. We can only guess why such a large crowd was following Jesus.   Perhaps, some had heard of the tragic death of John the Baptist and sought Jesus out for comfort and reassurance. Perhaps some have been following Jesus for quite a while and were awaiting another series of parables.  Perhaps, some just saw the crowds and wanted to be part of the action, without any desire to be changed themselves in anyway.  We don’t know what motivated people to come out and join in. But now, in this moment, they were there – and they were hungry.  (Imagine having to feed all those people!)   Many of us today may be seeking Jesus for different reasons.  And we should take comfort and assurance, knowing that Jesus can and does take care of the needs of all of us of all who were there no one leaves hungry.  Whatever brings you near is fine.

This is a familiar story one that we’ve all learned in Sunday school, it puts to us a simple and clear call – to share what we have – and it will be enough to do wonders!  It is a living example of the parables that preceded in the scriptures; we’ve heard them in the past, the parables of the sower, and of the wheat, and of the mustard seeds, parables and points to reality of abundance in what appears to be scarce.  Each one of us knows scarcity, in one way or another, in our lives,  a scarcity of time, or money, or energy, to do the things we would like. We look at the demands on us and what the world seems to be asking and we think to ourselves “I just can’t do it I have nothing to offer it is better for me to retreat.”

As the gospels would tell it, just before this moment.  Jesus himself had had two experiences of apparent scarcity.  He is rejected by his home town when he tried to preach and heal, and he has just learned of John’s execution.  So there must be a great emptiness within him.   Now he is surrounded by thousands of people, his disciples presenting him with more scarcity and rather than turn them away saying I can do nothing for you, leave me alone. Instead of doing the understandable and the perfectly acceptable he embodies what he is been saying all along. He lives out that the kingdom of God is like a few loaves and fishes that can feed thousands.  He shows us that there are things that we can give away and give away and still never run out.

One of the most interesting and powerful prayer sessions I remember being part of was one where we first held stones in our hands and reflected on the hard places in our lives in the areas of scarcity where we felt we were hitting rock bottom, and then we held pieces of bread and reflected on the gifts in our lives that we had an that we could offer to others and never run out. What in your “lunchbox” that will you always have leftovers of?  For each of us,  there is something different.  (A love of people, a hopeful attitude, something within you as part of your very soul, that is a gift from God, that you share with others and yet never lose?  That search is part of our faith journey, to find what we have as gift, and then give it away to others.  (Could be a sense of laughter, an appreciation of music, a desire to serve the poor. We each have at least one thing.

Jesus refuses to stop helping just because he and the disciples are exhausted from work and with grief and from the crowd. In their weariness, the disciples can only see their meagerness and  shortness of their resources.   “We have nothing” they say.  Jesus does not let them stop at that and say “it’s okay, you don’t have much – I can’t expect much of you.”   Instead of focusing on their lack, Jesus commands that they bring what they have. Using the words of the Eucharist he accepts what they bring and gives it back and orders that the disciples give it away. The scriptures say he took, he blessed, he broke, he gave.

This is the model of discipleship. God calls us to bring ourselves, our lives, our failings, and our hope all before God. Are we willing to come, and say,  here is what I am, here’s what I have, you can have it. As we do – do we trust that God will take can get back to us and call us out to take an going to world and do wonders. We will give them we will give, and  still there will be more that something leftover! Amen.

Of all the things that Jesus spoke about in his years of ministry, what topic do you think he talked about most? (Here’s a hint, it comes up a lot in today’s reading.  The Kingdom of Heaven.  And anyone want to guess what the second most talked about topic?  Money!  – that’s for another day)

While people don’t often speak about these things in everyday conversation, can you imagine what you might say if you were asked, “What do you think the Kingdom of Heaven is like?”  Say a young person came up to you quite earnestly, or a person new to faith, came to you and asked, “tell me about this Kingdom of Heaven”,  what would you do?  What might you say? 

I think one of the most difficult things about believing in God and trusting that the kingdom of heaven exists, is trying to talk about it. If someone asks you why you believe, or how your life is different because you do believe, isn’t it the case there are no particular words are true enough, right enough, or big enough to explain.  If we are asked, we may rummage around for something to say, but I find everything I come up with sounds either too vague or too churchy.

When talking about God, we can talk about how our heart feels full to bursting sometimes or about the mysterious sense of connection we feel with other human beings. We could talk about how even the worst things that happen to us seem to have a blessing hidden in them somewhere, but the truth is that it often feels impossible to speak directly about holy things. How can the language of earth capture the reality of heaven? How can words describe that which is beyond all words? How can we as human beings speak of God and the Kingdom of Heaven?

We don’t do it well, that is for sure, but because we must somehow try, we tend to talk about what we cannot say in terms of what we can, that is, we tend to describe holy things by talking about ordinary things, and trusting that somehow we’ll make  connections. Believing in God is like coming home, we say, like being born again. It is like jumping off the high dive, like getting struck by lightning, like falling in love. We cannot say what it is, exactly, but we can say what it is like, and we hope that is enough to get the message across.

Using analogies, saying that something is like something else can be a great tool and a way to make connections that deepen understanding.  When the comparisons catch us by surprise they make us stop, make us think. How can these two things be alike? What do they have in common? How deep does this connection go? When the comparisons catch us by surprise, our everyday understanding of things is broken open, and we are invited to explore them all over again, to go inside of them and see what is new.

Jesus did it all the time. Throughout the gospels, he was always making comparisons. Sinners are like lost sheep, the word of God is like seed sown on different kinds of ground, the kingdom of heaven is like a wedding feast, and God is like the owner of a vineyard. “The kingdom of heaven is like this…” he said over and over again, telling his followers stories about brides and grooms, sheep and shepherds, wheat and tares.

Have you ever wondered why he taught that way? Why didn’t he just come right out and say what he meant? If anyone in the world were qualified to speak directly about God, surely it was Jesus, and yet he too spoke indirectly, making surprising comparisons between holy things and ordinary things, breaking open our everyday understanding of things and inviting us to explore them all over again.

In today’s passage when asked what heaven is like, Jesus launches a volley of such comparisons. The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, he says, then he’ll say it is like yeast, like buried treasure, like a fine pearl, like a net cast into the sea. When Jesus teaches these images come quickly, one right after another, with no preparation, no explanation, no time for questions and answers. It is not like him to be in such a rush.  It is like he turns on a firehose of ideas.  He is usually a better storyteller than that, gathering his listeners around him and sliding into his tale with one of those time-honored introductions like, “There once was a landowner…” or “There once was a king…” When he does, his followers settle down to listen, knowing that the story will be full of meaning for them, knowing that they had better listen well.

This morning the kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, nothing much to look at, not very impressive at all, at least not at first; but give the seed some soil-sow the seed, and it can become astounding: a tree big enough for birds to nest in.   If the kingdom of heaven is like that, then it is surprising, and potent, and more than first meets the eye.

There is an essential hiddenness-the mustard seed hidden in the ground.  If the kingdom is like that, then it is not something readily apparent to the eye but something that must be searched for, something just below the surface to be discovered and claimed.

So we might think, that if we are searching for the kingdom, we ought to start some place really holy, some place really extraordinary, like a medieval monastery, maybe, translating ancient texts with biblical scholars.  Maybe we should begin in the Holy Land, or at the Vatican, or Dunedin. Then again it may not matter where we are, exactly, as long as we keep our eyes open for extraordinary clues wherever we are-looking out for heavenly visions, listening out for heavenly voices. Because if the kingdom of heaven is hidden in this world, it is hidden really well, and only the most dedicated detectives among us stand a chance of finding it at all.

Unless, of course, God has hidden it in plain view. There is always that possibility, you know-that God decided to hide the kingdom of heaven not in any of the extraordinary places that treasure hunters would be sure to check but in the last place that any of us would think to look-namely, in the ordinary circumstances of our everyday lives-like a silver spoon in the drawer with the stainless, like a diamond necklace on the dresser with the rhinestones-the extraordinary hidden in the ordinary, the kingdom of heaven all mixed in with the humdrum and ho-hum of our days, as easy to find as a child’s smile when she awakes from sleep, or the first thunderstorm after a long drought- signs of the kingdom of heaven, clues to all the holiness hidden in the dullest of our days.

Jesus knew it all along. Why else would he talk about heaven in terms of farmers and fields and women baking bread and merchants buying and selling things and fishermen sorting fish, unless he meant somehow to be telling us that the kingdom of heaven has to do with these things, that our treasure is buried not in some exotic far off place that requires a special map but that “X” marks the spot right here, right now, in all the ordinary people and places and activities of our lives?

If we want to speak of heavenly things, he seems to say, we may begin by speaking about earthly things, and if we want to describe that which is beyond all words, we may begin with words we know, words such as: man, woman, field, seed, bird, air, yeast, bread; words such as: pearl, net, sea, fish, joy. The kingdom is like these things; the kingdom is found in these things. These are the places to dig for the kingdom of heaven; these are the places to look for the will and rule and presence of God. If we cannot find them here we will never find them anywhere else, for earth is where the seeds of heaven are sown, and their treasure is the only one worth having. Amen.