Lazo, Andrew Sermon for Proper 13, 2 August 2020

In the name of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, amen.

My mother was a terrible cook. She was a woman of many gifts, but, honestly, the culinary arts were not among them. Don’t get me wrong—she kept us fed, and I have to have compassion for her, doing the best she could with what little she had. A few years ago me sister handed me mom’s recipe box—and that was like revisiting a little house of horrors. I even think she actually made us banana meatloaf one night. Let that sink in. . .banana meatloaf. Small wonder then that my brother studied French cuisine, my sister got her Master’s in nutrition and is a registered dietician, and I became an enthusiastic and committed home cook. I see now that my mother’s shortcomings helped foster a love of hospitality in me.

When I taught high school, I loved to interrupt class to offer visitors to my classroom a cup of coffee or tea, and then use that as a way to tell my students that offering a drink in Jesus’ name is the same as doing it to Him. This growing commitment to the ministry of hospitality kind of pushed me into another line of work—and here I am!

During the discernment process, I was surprised to find I ranked higher in the spiritual gift of hospitality than even teaching and preaching. But then a priest friend reminded me that the center of the service is Holy Communion—which is originally, essentially a meal. Fr. Tom helped me see that my love of feeding people might in fact be my best qualification to do this work.

Because you see, food, feeding are incredibly important in the Bible. The prophet Isaiah proclaims, “everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food. Incline your ear, and come to me; listen, so that you may live. I will make with you an everlasting covenant, my steadfast, sure love.” God’s compassion and steadfast love often appear through food.

Did you know that the feeding of the five thousand is the only miracle contained in all four Gospel accounts? Now I could spend the rest of the hour explaining everything you ever wanted to know about barley loaves, and how many women and children were there, and the differences between all the different Bible feasts and feedings. But that would miss the real point of the story.

Let me tell you two things about this miracle that we might miss at first glance. First of all (and this is always the best advice) we need to look carefully at how Jesus handled the situation, and then do our best to follow His example. And what does Matthew remind us that Jesus did, even before the all-you-can-eat buffet opened up?

When he saw the crowd, the Gospel says that Jesus “had compassion” on that great gathering. Don’t let that phrase slip by you, because in that, all these scriptures tie together. Jesus SAW their emptiness and was moved with what Isaiah calls steadfast, sure, everlasting covenant love. Compassion literally means to suffer with someone. Jesus saw the weakness that Fr. Wilson preached about just last week—our emptiness, our hunger of both body and soul, our total dependence on God for our daily bread. The Psalmist picks up the theme in his great song, praising our Lord for grace and mercy, steadfast love and compassion—there’s that word again! And St. Paul feels just that kind of compassion for all of Israel, so much so that he would trade heaven for hell if he could save his brothers and sisters.

Moved with just that kind of tenderness towards all our futility and weakness and emptiness, how does Jesus respond? Look at the verbs in Gospel reading—he TAKES whatever little we bring Him. He LOOKS UP, to behold a Father whose loving nature always provides us our daily bread in our wilderness, just as God provided for manna the children of Israel in their wanderings. Then Jesus BLESSED and BROKE the loaves, just as His body would soon be broken on the cross to show just how much He so loved the world.

But secondly, notice that it wasn’t Jesus who fed the five thousand. It was the disciples. Jesus loves us enough to pour himself out as a sacrifice, and then he entrusts Himself to us, and He sends us out to share His compassion and to feed the whole world with both physical and spiritual food.

You see, feeding the hungry is more than what we do during Day for Hope or in our work at Caritas Food Bank. Feeding hungry bodies and souls is the very definition of staying close to Jesus. Remember where they laid the newborn King when He was born? In a manger. A manger is a feeding trough, a place for grain, right there in the little town of Beth Lechem. And Bethlehem where Christ as born literally means the House of Bread. Jesus is the Bread of Life and as we come for Communion in a few moments, feast on his compassionate gift to all of us—His Body, broken for us. And once you have been fed by the Bread of Life, do what Jesus and His disciples did: see everyone with eyes of compassion. Take whatever you have, little or much. Look to Heaven, bless, and share God’s gifts, just like the disciples. Let us go forth from this place to both love and serve the Lord, feasting on the steadfast love of Christ. Then let us in turn carry this Bread of Heaven, the steadfast love of God, into the whole world, until His Kingdom comes. Amen.

Sermon preached by Andrew Lazo, Seminarian

Church of the Redeemer

Sarasota Florida

9th Sunday after Pentecost

2 August 2020

 

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