What are you hungry for? Abundance? Isaiah 55.1-5; Psalm 145. And Matthew 14. Rev. Tiare L. Mathison, Pastor & Soul-Tender Loaves & Fishes. In classical rhetoric, a commonplace is a statement or bit of knowledge that is commonly shared by members of an audience or a community. I just said a commonplace. Loaves & Fishes. Hugo or I brought you a commonplace in your brown paper bag. It’s a bit of taste, actual flavor, of our gospel lesson for today. This idea of baking bread and cooking fish to bring the gospel lesson in a brown paper bag, came to me early in the week as I read this story, this very familiar commonplace, again. For the zillionth time. I invite you to nibble as I preach. Save a little for communion too. I know its weird and maybe uncomfortable on screen. Or maybe you don’t enjoy salmon. Especially with hard boiled eggs. Just don’t tell me. I want you to do this as a way to break open the commonplace, to receive this Word in a way you may never have before. It’s a signal of abundance. Listen for the Word of God for you, Matthew 14. What are you hungry for? I’m always struck by Isaiah’s question: Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, your labor for that which does not satisfy? Isaiah asks. Why do I? #to appear middle class at least #to look a part, sophisticated #to fit in #to follow cultural trends #to feed my cravings I want to spend my money and labor on service and generosity. I want to hunger for justice. This covenant Isaiah writes about is about everyone having enough. Break down barriers that divide rich and poor. Black and white, outsiders and insiders. I ask, what would it take to make this happen in our communities, in our country? What is the work the gospel of Jesus Christ calls us to do for racial justice and equity today, right now? What do you hunger for? You might remember, This particular part of Isaiah is called the Book of Consolation, chapters 40-55. It’s a collection of writings over the course of 75 or 100 years, during Israel’s exile in Babylon in the 7th century BCE. The writer wishes to lift up the people, to remind them of who they are and whose they are. Sound familiar? The covenant still holds, even in a time of dislocation. Never forget this! The covenant still holds, even in a time of dislocation. Governments fail, countries go into chaos and war, suffering increases beyond all measure. Yet we claim God still pursues redemption for the whole of creation. Even when we cannot see it with our own eyes, we might be able to hear it with the ears of our hearts or the taste on our tongues. Come, eat. Participate in this lavish spread - get water, wine, bread, milk, smoked salmon - like a market of vendors, all in one place. I will set this table for you, Jesus says. You need no money, everyone is welcomed. A Crowded Table. To accept this invitation is life. Life! This embodied, biological, real taste on the tongue, life! Not some faith construct we generate in our heads. But flesh and blood, real life. This life, this day. What are you hungry for? Fish and bread, maybe? Take a bite. (Do it!) Did you notice the context for this recounting of the 12 feeding the upwards of 10,000. Counting the women and the children of course. The context: It’s one little verse: Now when Jesus heard this… what is this He heard? John the Baptist, his cousin, his compatriot, his baptizer, his friend, had been beheaded. Not only that, his head had been pranced around a dinner party, by a young woman, trying to please her powerful mother. Her step-father, Herod and the other men, total drunks, their eyes on this sweet young thing carrying a head. So gruesome. Jesus wanted to go away to grieve, to pray, to be in anguish for such evil to transpire. He wanted a moment alone. But the peoples’ hunger for His compassion is so ravenous, they follow him. Even in His despair, Jesus extends His healing touch, serves the weak. The day grows long, its supper time, the disciples are worried. “What are we going to do with all these people? They’ve got to be hungry. Jesus, do something.” No. Jesus says, No. You do something. What? Fish and bread, its what we got. ITs not enough. We never have enough to share. The scarcity model comes into view, again. In a statement of faith and humility, Jesus looks to heaven, the dwelling place of the Most High. Jesus hallows God’s name, giving it first place. Like we do every week when we say the Lord’s Prayer: Our Father, who are in heaven, hallowed be your name. Hallow: To make holy. Or to recognize holiness. You could say our sanctuary, our Zoom gatherings, have been hallowed…for the worship of God. All of a sudden there is enough to go around. With leftovers for the local food bank! It’s a compelling story, the only miracle story of Jesus found in all 4 gospels. Come eat, you who have no money. Are you thirsty? Drink. There is plenty! We’ve only got 5 loaves and 2 fish. It's nothing. Really? What if one of the disciples had lifted his or her head to heaven, seeking God’s blessing? What might have happened? It certainly is a foreshadowing of the Last Supper. It is certainly a mystery. I don’t know how fish and bread reproduce like this. What I do know is Jesus’ compassion extends to the lower social classes through healing and through feeding, basic care. He generates an alternative world. He offers salvation and forgiveness. He welcomes all. Come and eat, you who have no money. Come and eat, you who are broken by life. Come and eat, you who are filled with grace and mercy. Everyone, come, come to the table of life. What are you hungry for? Abundance?