The Bread of Compassion
Mark 6:30-44; Mark 14:22-25
September 30, October 1, 2006

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE STORY IN THE BIBLE? I would guess that if we wrote down everybody's responses to that question, we would end up with quite a list! Oh, there would be some similarities, I'm sure. But I suspect we would have quite a variety. And I wonder if today's story is your favorite? If we posed the same question to members of the first century Church, how do you think they would respond? It is difficult to say. But if we recognize that of all Jesus' miracles, only this feeding of the 5000 is recorded in all four gospels…And, if we recognize that there are additional accounts of the feeding of the 4000 in two of the gospels…Perhaps we can speculate that these stories were immensely meaningful and important to the early church?

Mark's narrative begins with Jesus welcoming back his disciples as they return from their first missionary efforts. It is very likely that they are exhausted from their efforts. But they are also excited about what they have been doing! They flock around their Shepherd, bombarding him with all the details of their adventures. But their weariness shows. And Jesus is well-aware of the demands of discipleship-his ministry was one of trying to balance the demands on his time with the demands on his soul. So, as if to say, "Well done, good and faithful servants!" Jesus prescribes a dose of a time of quiet introspection and rest for the disciples.

But it doesn't stay that way for long! They try to take a quick cruise to get off to a deserted place-but the people won't go away! As the boat hits the shoreline, there is a welcoming party ready to greet them. Jesus has concern for his disciples' well-being, but his overriding compassion for the people takes priority. They are like "sheep without a shepherd," and Jesus begins to teach them. "The Good Shepherd" first tends his newly gathered flock, not with bread, but with the bread of life. After the teaching, the disciples remind Jesus that these folks also need food-not just food for thought. The focus of the story now seems to shift from Jesus to the disciples. We get a sense that they're a little grumpy-wouldn't you be? You had expected a break, some time away, some peace and quiet. And now you're tired, hungry, cranky, and not in the mood to see anybody.

They encourage Jesus to send the people away-oh, they try to frame it in a way to indicate that they are concerned-but it is not too convincing. Jesus redirects the disciples' selfish focus and shocks them by saying, "You give them something to eat!" After stumbling and staggering at the thought of that assignment, Jesus essentially does their homework for them. And 5000 men are fed-probably thousands more women and children! Not only that, there are leftovers!
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S THIS ONE OF YOUR FAVORITE STORIES IN THE BIBLE? Perhaps part of the reason for their popularity is that the feeding miracles communicate and connect on so many different levels? We hear the echo of the experiences of God's people in the wilderness-the history of the daily collection of manna. If we focus on Jesus, we see the image of a compassionate good shepherd who provides for his sheep. We can identify with the disciples because of their failure to understand Jesus' power and purposes. images of bread and the bread of life speak to us physically and emotionally and spiritually. Just as the disciples became channels for Jesus' love, the Church recognizes that it is in the same business-providing the bread of compassion for those who are hungry-not just for words but for physical bread.

Arthur Pendenys once said, "A good meal makes a person feel more charitable toward the whole world than any sermon." And so the Church continues to be called to work for justice-to offer physical and spiritual bread. Someone expressed it beautifully in this eloquent prayer. "The woman across the aisle looks troubled, Jesus, as she sits waiting for worship to begin. Is she worried about her husband, a child, a parent, work, health, property, or her own sense of isolation? Give us the courage to smile across the aisle, to touch when we meet, to walk and talk together as we leave worship and enter each other's fears and hopes. The old man across the street looks worried, Jesus, as he sweeps the leaves from his front steps. The child across the tracks looks tense, Jesus, as she sits on her porch. And so it is with a multitude of troubled people across our world as they wait for justice and peace. Are they worried about family, food, freedom, disease, death, discrimination? Give us the faith to look across the barriers, to touch when we meet, to walk and talk together as we leave old fears and enter a new age at a shared table. You are ever across from us, Lord Jesus, waiting for us to see, to touch, to share…your bread and wine." Of course, that reminds us of one of the most significant messages in this story. The feeding miracles provide a preview for Communion. They set the table for the Eucharistic feast that the Church has been called to celebrate. Later on in chapter 14, Mark will describe the Last Supper meal in Jerusalem. The language Mark uses in chapter 6 to describe Jesus' blessing almost exactly repeats his words and actions at their final meal as described in Mark 14.

IT IS APPROPRIATE THAT WE HEAR AND REMEMBER THESE STORIES TODAY, ON WORLD COMMUNION WEEKEND/SUNDAY. Most of us are very much aware that there are many things that divide people of faith in our nation and in our world. Not only do we have intramural squabbles between Christians, we have extramural battles between people of different faiths-the Pope's comments and the reactions we have seen lately are painful examples of how fractured we are. There are differences of opinion and practice and theology. There are differences of interpretation of scripture. There are differences in political view and perspectives about issues of morality and values.

In some ways, we are like an estranged, extended family. One part of the family is doing its thing over there. Another part of the family is doing its thing over here. Still another is going about its business somewhere else. The various parts of the family are often unaware of what the rest of the family is doing. Some members never communicate with each other. Some barely acknowledge the others' existence. Some say, "If you won't believe as we believe, do as we do, think as we think-you're out o' here! You can't be a part of us!" In families where this kind of estrangement exists, one thing that often brings the family together is the loss of a loved one. Often, a death in the family brings everybody together. It is remarkable to me as I work with families during funerals how many times the members of the family haven't talked with each other for a long time. Something happened a long time ago and they just gave up on each other.

I remember one funeral service back in Texas. A member of the church, wonderful woman passed away. Usually I try to meet with family members to plan the service, but only one of her children would agree to meet with me to talk about her. The rest of them apparently didn't want to see each other. When we gathered around the grave site for the committal service, it was an interesting picture. There were folks of all ages and stages, sizes and shapes, all manner of dress-from suits and ties to one young man who had a Dallas Cowboy's T-shirt on. Right up until the time for the service to begin, there was a debate going on about whether or not one of the daughters would even show up for her mother's service. Lots of tension in the air. We made it through the service. The scattered, splintered family was reunited-and at least there was the opportunity for the renewal and repair of some of their relationships.

From one perspective, it is a death in the family that brings us together today. It is the death of the one from whom we have received our family name. We come together today for a reunion-not only with parts of the family we know fairly well-but with parts of the family with whom we seldom speak. As we gather around the Table on this "World Communion Weekend/Sunday," we join millions of our sisters and brothers in Christ. Different languages will be spoken, different traditions will be observed, but "World Communion Weekend/Sunday" is a much-needed call to remember the global nature of our family.

As we take our places around the Table today, we remember Jesus' death. But we also remember his life and ministry, we remember his promises to us, we remember his resurrection. And we remember bread-the bread of life, the bread of compassion, the bread that Jesus blesses and breaks and gives to us to feed the deepest hungers of our souls. We give thanks that the miracle of feeding happens every time we gather around his Table.

Earlier this year in Atlanta, I heard well-respected teacher and preacher Thomas Long; a story he shares from his ministry seems appropriate at this time and place. "A woman spoke quietly of the death of her father. 'He had been a proud man,' she said, 'a man who spent all his workdays tilling the soil of a Carolina farm and all of his Sabbaths praising God for life and seed and family.' A final bout with cancer sent him to the hospital never to come home again. In the last week of his life the disease provided the added indignity of a stroke that had robbed him of his speech. As his family visited his bedside, his eyes would moisten with frustration and grief as he tried in vain to speak to these people he loved so dearly.

On his last day alive, the attending physician had issued the signal, the family had gathered in his room-the daughter and her two brothers. With strength fading, the father motioned to his son that he wanted a glass of water. The son hastened to the sink and returned with a full water glass, which he held toward his father's lips. But his father pushed the glass away and moved his finger from the glass toward his son, as if to say, 'You drink it.' Hesitant and uncertain, the son lifted the glass to his lips and drank from it. Then the father motioned toward his daughter, indicating that she should drink some too. Sensing what his father wanted, the son passed the glass to his sister, and she drank it. Now the father pointed toward the other son, and the daughter realized what was happening. She gasped, 'He is serving communion.' There in the face of death, this father summoned a sacramental water glass to administer the feast of life to his scattered family, which had come together." Here is one for whom the Lord's Supper had become so much a part of his life, so much a part of his identity, that it was the last thing he did on this earth. Here is one who had feasted on the Bread of Compassion, the Living Bread of Jesus. "It was a wordless act of worship, the promise of the resurrection come home."