Matthew 14:13-21                                                            Ordinary Time

   This is one of the best known miracle stories of Jesus. It is recorded in all four Gospels, with some differing detail. Much energy has been spent in the effort to figure out how this miracle could have happened or explaining how it did not really happen literally. But that’s missing the point. The point of this story is in the opening scene: Jesus is trying to escape crowds, needing a little time away, but they follow him anyway. And does Jesus then say to his disciples, “Listen, I have got to have some space from all these needy people. I’ve given all I can today. Send them back to their own villages.” No, Jesus doesn’t say that. Instead, he has compassion on the very people who are interrupting his moment of peace and quiet. He has compassion and he heals them.
 

 Listen now for the Word of the Lord from Matthew 14:13-21
 

 Jesus has compassion. It is his nature to be compassionate – to see people and to care, to see them and hurt with them and decide to do something to make a difference. The disciples are being logical and quite reasonable when they say, “It is getting late. Send everyone home for food.” Jesus was tired before this long day of healing ministry. The disciples naturally want to protect his time and energy. It makes good sense to send the people home for food. Who in their right mind would argue with that? 5000 men plus women and children is just too many people. We can’t solve that problem. Send them home.

 But Jesus says, “No. You give them something to eat.” When the disciples say, “We can’t. We don’t have enough – only two fish and five loaves.” Jesus says, “Bring them to me. There’s always enough to go around.” And he blessed it and broke it, don’t miss the connection to communion here. And there was enough and more. That’s how it is with God. We don’t have enough, but Christ does, and what Christ has, or rather, what Christ can do with the little we have will take care of us and them, even the whole world.

 Today, more than ever, our policies affect the cost of food around the world. Markets are full of food that consumers in developing countries cannot afford to buy. Prices for rice, corn, wheat, and soy beans, the staples for world survival, have doubled in a year. In poor countries where families spend 75% of their earnings on food, these increased cost are debilitating. Five dollars for a week’s food for thirteen people sounds like a great deal, until you realize how little money they have. Double their costs, and somebody’s going to be hungry, unless we cut back and help. It doesn’t take a large portion of our food budget to make a big difference for them.

 Solving the hunger issues of the world begins with fair policies, policies that challenge our luxurious comfort created at the expense of others. During our Minute for Mission today, you’ll hear about Bread for the World, a church-based organization committed to lobbying the United States Congress about hunger issues.

 But making our policies just and compassionate is not the only way to help. Jesus said, “You give them something to eat.” So we at Peace collect food every week for Mission Beth-El, a Ministry to Farmworkers and their families, and we encourage everyone in congregation to add an extra item or two to your grocery list every time you shop. Or, if you prefer, buy in bulk at Sam’s or Bjs, but make a habit of feeding others. It’s our way of saying “Yes” to Jesus who asks his disciples to feed the people, even when the disciples have no idea how they will do it.

 Nearly a dozen of our adults and youth have been volunteering at Mission Beth-El – tutoring, organizing used clothing and school supplies, and filling grocery bags for the weekly distribution of food to the hungry. Emily wants share with you some of the experience that she, Catherine, and Andrew had while volunteering at Beth-El:

 Every Tuesday morning, Beth-El distributes a couple hundred bags of food to members of the community in need. This past Tuesday, while Andrew and I were volunteering at Beth-El, a record 330 bags of food were given out. Many families -and especially low-income families - are struggling now more than ever to meet basic needs.

 Andrew and I were quickly packing new food bags to meet the high demand that day, filling them with the usual - 2 pounds of rice, beans, and flour; a few cans; and a bag of bread if there is any that day. Lately the variety of canned goods hasn't been very exciting - one can of peaches, one can of pears, an especially large can of unsweetened grapefruit juice, and a can of beef stew that probably only feeds 2-3 people.

 While we were restocking the shelves, I noticed a woman, waiting by the door. An older Hispanic man usually hands out the bags, but he had abandoned his post. Oh no, I thought, I actually have to interact with someone. (I had grown pretty accustomed to the "behind-the-scenes" volunteer work.) So I walked over, took her metal chip - which the registration desk had given her - and gave her a bag. Phew, I thought to myself. That was easy! A minute later I walked over to hand out another bag. A middle-aged man, who spoke very broken English, looks at me, and points to the shelf on my right.

 "Apples," he mutters. "You can give me apples, yes? For my little kid at home?" Uh oh. "Ummmm… I don't know," I say. I look over to Andrew and confirm with him that the large cans of food on my right are for the kitchen, which feeds staff, volunteers, and schoolkids on a daily basis.

 He looks at me again and says assertively, "It's okay if you give me those." I'm not really supposed to, I'm thinking, but… should I just do it? …Wait a minute… does this guy even have a kid? Is he just trying to take advantage of me because I'm not the person who usually does this job and he thinks I'm a push-over? As I'm trying to explain to him that those cans are for the kitchen while in my mind stressing over what I should do, another woman walks up and stands behind him, waiting to receive her bag. Ahhh. Now if I give him apples, I can't not give her some, too! The man repeated, "It's okay. It's okay." I didn't really know whether he was giving up or persisting, but he wasn't going anywhere, so I looked for someone to ask, or even to tell him no for me. Nobody was around.

 After what seemed like 5 minutes, he gave up and walked away. I had given him a kind of pathetic, I'm sorry, I-don't-know-what-to-do look, and I guess he got it. But immediately after he left, I was struck with a deep feeling of guilt. How could I refuse him a can of apples? For his kid. Even if they were the kitchen's. There were probably two hundred cans of apples and peaches on that shelf - would it be that big of a deal if I handed out one? How could I have been so stubbornly rule-abiding? And overlook his need…

 I only handed out around twenty bags. But in that short time, I had a significantly more moving experience than in the hours we spent working behind-the-scenes. While this work was very helpful to Beth-El and a meaningful experience for us, I REMEMBER peering over the paper bags on the rack for those 15 minutes or so, SO vividly… waiting for the mother with a child on her hip and another tugging her hand to give me her metal chip… watching a teenager bashfully scoop up her family's bag… seeing the grins on the faces of the few that received a plastic bag of surplus dog food… smiling back at the young woman who revealed that she was there for the first time… saying "you're welcome" to the woman who called me "Sweetie" when she thanked me… hesitantly telling those who were rummaging around for the "best" bag that they were all the same… laughing with a lady about the paper bag being heavy: "It's all grapefruit juice, isn't it?" she joked sadly… and having to turn down an older woman when she asked if we had anything for babies. What I really wanted to do was drive down to the grocery store and buy her some diapers and baby food.

 On Thursday, in the car on the way to Immokalee, I asked Beth-El's director Dave Moore what I should have done with the man and the apples. He said that what I did was fine. We talked about how hard it is to draw the line in a ministry like Beth-El - how difficult it is to find the balance between compassion and management of limited resources. And then Dave told me something wise that he had heard from a friend. It was along the lines of: "It's better to be recklessly compassionate, than to fail to take any action."

 The Church of Jesus Christ is called to be like him. Miracles happen when our compassion is the driving force of life, as it was in his sacrificial life. Calculating costs is normal. The disciples did it. We do it. But if we can listen to Jesus who assures us there is enough, then perhaps we can begin to adjust our attitudes and our lifestyles, in ways that count for others. Maybe we have a simple meal once a week and give the extra ten dollars we would have spent to Peace for Mission Beth-El. Perhaps we will write our congressional representatives and ask them to support policy decisions which benefit the neediest people in our country and the world. It is possible that we might learn to live without some of our luxury items, so that others can have the basic necessities. We can simplify – even making small cuts in our lifestyle and expenses in order to do give more support to those in need. That extra can of apples or soup adds variety and brings joy to those struggling to eat.

 We are already seeing how a culture of genersoity is contagious at Peace. One person says, “I’ll go to Beth-El to bag food for distribution, and two more say, “We can go with you.” One person says, “I can help a Family Promise mother and children move into their new home, and another says, “I’ll bring my truck.” We can build an ethos of generosity or we can accept the attitude of self-protection and self-centeredness that is so tempting. As Mother Teresa once said, “Intense love does not measure, it just gives.” She said, “If you can’t feed one hundred people, then feed just one.” And she said, “if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.” That’s the paradox that Mother Teresa understood and that we at Peace are reaching toward. Compassion. Believing that in giving more than we think we can, Christ’s abundance prevails and makes it enough for all, with a little to spare.