More Than We Need
2 Samuel 11:1-15; John 6:1-5
Rev. Patricia Barth
July 31, 2006
Our reading from 2 Samuel reads like a movie script, doesn't it? Lust, adultery, seduction, sexual harassment and misconduct, voyeurism, treachery, warfare and finally, murder. King David, God's own anointed, piles up sin after sin in a gross abuse of his kingly power. The author of many beautiful psalms; the small shepherd boy who bravely stood up against Goliath and went on to rule the United Kingdom is now a ruthless political hack; corrupted by greed and lust.
David's power as expressed in the Bathsheba affair is the power of intrigue and political maneuvering. Despite the abundance of God's gifts to him, he doesn't feel like he has enough. David is a taker. How different is the leader portrayed in our New Testament reading - in Jesus we have a leader whose power comes from above, but is immediately sent out again - a power of healing and feeding and sharing. The crowd wanted to make Jesus a king, a political messiah who would stand up against Rome - but Jesus refused.
What can we learn from the sharply contrasting stories? I'd like to focus on what we adults can learn from a child - a boy who is silent in our text, but whose actions speak volumes. So let's pick up some sea breezes, and travel to the eastern shore of the sea of Galilee with Jesus
Crowds keep following Jesus, because they have seen him heal people. No doubt many of these people are hurt or ailing, and seek Jesus' healing touch. Or, perhaps they are curious or cynical, wondering who he is and what he's up to. Some of them might just be going along for the ride, (so to speak), looking for excitement, and hoping to witness a healing. Since John points out the Passover was near, the crowd would have been swollen with travelers on their way to Jerusalem for the feast day.
Jesus goes up to the mountain and sits down with his disciples - the traditional teaching position for a religious leader of the time, and poses a test for Philip, and presumably, the other disciples as well. "Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?" Jesus asks. Unfortunately, Philip flunks.
He gives up. Philip says, in effect, we can't feed them. "Six months wages would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little!" he protests. We've all heard Philip's voice before-people who say, "We can't solve the homeless problem-so why try?" "We have limited resources!" Philip often pops up in churches when new projects are tried, saying, "We've never done it that way before!" or, "We tried that - it didn't work. What's the point of trying again?" For the Philips of this world, the glass is always half empty.
Andrew, however, gets busy. He doesn't give up right away-he searches through the crowd and finds a boy with five barley loaves and two fish. He, too, has logical doubts - He wonders, "what are these few among so many?" - but he takes action, and you can imagine that he's willing to learn the glass is really half full. He might have his doubts, but he's a doer; he's willing to take a step in a new direction. Andrew is more comfortable with risk.
And then what happens? Jesus has the people sit down - he gives thanks and feeds the people bread and fish. And not only that, they were satisfied - twelve baskets of fragments were left over.
You see, Philip was operating under a worldview of scarcity, where there is never enough. Philip looked on the crowd, and only saw hunger and need. The logical extension of a worldview of scarcity is, "I've got mine! And to heck with everyone else." Remember those bumper stickers from the '80's? "The one who dies with the most toys wins!" Or a nicer version: "My family's needs and wants come first, and if I have any left over, I'll share it."
Instead, Jesus invites us into his economy of abundance, where sharing is the norm and there is more than enough for all. God, our heavenly giver, always gives us more than we need, using just a little to make a lot. And the lunch carried by the boy was little - its contents indicated he was poor, perhaps even a slave child. Barley loaves were the food of the poor in those days, and the fish carried in such a lunch were often small, like sardines or perhaps anchovies. Unlike David, who grabbed what he wanted, the little boy surrendered all he had. And out of that tiny bit, Jesus fed 5000 people until they were satisfied, and there were 12 baskets left over.
Now, there are a lot of ways to interpret this miracle. I've heard a lot of sermons on this story and I'm sure you have too. On its deepest level, it is John's way of telling us who Jesus is, the sign that he was God's son, who feeds us with his holy body and blood in Holy Communion. Through Jesus and his sacrifice, we are brought into God's presence, at - one with God.
On another level, this is a miracle of sharing - sort of the first church potluck. Some scholars argue that travelers to Jerusalem would not have left home without something up their sleeves or in bags. Operating on a principle of scarcity, they would never have felt called to share their lunches - until the generosity of a small boy inspired or shamed them into it.
Others have said that the 5000 count referred only to men, because women and children weren't counted much in those days - and that the food came from the women in the crowd, because we all know mothers don't go out without snacks and extra diapers for the babies; and it's usually women who pack picnic lunches and organize potluck suppers!
Others believe that Jesus, actually and physically, took small amounts of food and increased it to a huge amount, a sort of divine multiplication that transcended physical laws.
Whatever you personally choose to believe about this miracle, it's clear that there was a change in the crowd: from a "me first" attitude to a community that sat down and ate together. Their thinking must have changed from "my need first" to "there will be enough." They moved from a belief in scarcity to a belief in abundance. Because with Jesus, there is always more than enough.
And sometimes, we have to learn this from a small child. Because the adults in these stories don't come off very well. As is often the case, disciples like Philip just don't get it - and King David and others like him get far too much. But the little boy gave all he had.
Jesus said on another occasion, "Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the Kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it." ( )
Jesus says we must be like children; not acting childishly or immature, but living like children do, with openness and wonder, and without prejudgment. Like the child who said the Emperor Had No Clothes, because she wasn't afraid of the consequences for telling the truth - the child who had the innocence, honesty and self-confidence to be prophetic when adults did not.
Frederick Buechner writes, "Despite years of homiletic sentimentalizing to the contrary notwithstanding, Jesus was not playing Captain Kangaroo. He was saying that people who get into heaven are people who, like children, don't worry too much about it. They are people who, like children, live with their hands open more than with their fists clenched."
Like children, we can simply trust Jesus' love. Having faith like a child means that we trust God to supply our needs, even when logic and emotion tell us otherwise. If we can develop a childlike confidence in the generosity of God, and live with our hands open rather than tightly clenched, there will always be enough for us all. In fact, there will be more than we need. Amen.
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