The Apostles had been on a mission trip, working hard, sleeping little and returning physically and spiritually tired. The mission trip that Jesus put together for his disciples was a bit different from the experiences that we all are used to, our people having been in various places from the Gulf Coast to Kentucky, from Central PA to New Jersey, from Belize to Puerto Rico. It strikes me that Jesus wasn’t a big planner. He had told them this: “Go out into the towns and share the good news…” That’s all. He didn’t allow them to bring a lot of supplies. He didn’t give them a packing list or organize who would lead devotions on which day. He didn’t ask them about possible food allergies; no one was assigned to shop for the meals… I can just see how Jesus’ mission trip would go over here at St. Peter’s… “Send the pastor to a seminar where he can learn how to organize things! This is a total mess!”
And then the sheer scope of this mission trip! Jesus asked them to teach and to heal… Well, that would send some people running for cover! In don’t know about our guests from Bethlehem Baptist, but in my experience, Lutherans feel much more comfortable if they can paint or fix something, if they can work with tools made of wood or steel, if they can hide in a work outfit that indicates good old blue-collar labor. We are less comfortable with the kind of gospel mission that Jesus’ disciples were sent onto, requiring them to use their tongues and their hearts and their spiritual selves; and, yes, their faith. Teaching and healing! Is there even a curriculum for that? I bet you can’t buy it at Fortress Press! Still, the spiritual work was exhausting, no less exhausting than applying the sealant on the hot roofs in Puerto Rico if you listen to Mark. The disciples came back, and they were spent!
So, Jesus in his infinite wisdom, suggests a retreat. “Let’s go to a place away from the crowd, away from the hustle and bustle, away from all the noise.” “Let’s take a break and re-connect with God.” The only problem was: the crowd followed them wherever they went, even into the most deserted places of the country. And Jesus being Jesus, saw the great throng, recognized what was going on and had compassion on them. He began to feed their hunger. “Ah,” we think, “we know what’s coming next!” We jump to the five loaves and two fish he is about to share with thousands of people, one of the great miracles of the New Testament. But wait! Jesus is first addressing a different kind of hunger. Before he gives them the fish and bread, he begins to “teach them many things.” He nourishes their souls’ deepest hunger. They are fed with a sense of spiritual belonging, with hope for their lives, with compassion that comes from a holy place, with instructions on how to lead their lives. If even a confessing atheist like Ernst Bloch was able to say that people cannot live without hope, we can be sure that we the people need more than just food.
In the last few weeks, when we traveled in Europe, we entered a few breathtakingly beautiful churches. And while I am not a big fan of all old churches – particularly not the type of church that is overloaded with golden angels, baroque pomp, and vain glory, – we sang in some sanctuaries that were open invitations to the soul to be fed. The words, both sung and spoken, reverberated against the massive walls of those buildings and came back to you from the opposite end of the nave, as if to remind us that the Word of God needs to reverberate in our souls just as much. Whatever Jesus wants to teach us, it needs to reverberate in you.
So, Jesus taught them many things. But, in God’s name, could Mark not be a bit more specific here? I mean, I would like to know what Jesus said. Mark sounds like one of my children when I ask them about school. “What did you learn today?” And Peter says, “Things.” Well, what things did Jesus teach them? Should we imagine another Sermon on the Mount? Did he challenge the crowd to acts of love? Did he turn their value system on its head? Did he tell them that those who show kindness to others are valued over those who bully in God’s kingdom? We can only imagine. But then, even if we knew exactly what he said, maybe it isn’t for us to copy. Maybe it us for us to listen to the words of God as we have them in Scripture today and to do this daily and let them reverberate in our souls and allow them to change us from deep within and then allow us to speak them in our own words and apply the teachings to our time.
Some would say that this whole passage teaches us to pay attention to both sorts of hunger, spiritual hunger, as well as physical hunger. Hunger in Montgomery County? We are reminded by the people from our Social Ministry Team that some families in our own School District have trouble affording some of the most basic school supplies and they have asked us to help. Look at the announcement sheet and you find very specific instructions. We are also reminded by organizations like Manna on Main Street that food insecurity is an issue here in our county. Physical hunger! And it is probably equally true that many of us, including myself, have a difficult time imagining what it might feel like to be stuck in poverty with few options to get out. Therefore, the lesson I hear in this passage is summed up in one word: compassion.
I tell you, no matter what Jesus specifically taught the crowds on that day, what he taught his own disciples is crystal-clear: compassion. Be sensitive to the needs of the people around you! Don’t be satisfied that you have five loaves and two fish for dinner tonight. Don’t be satisfied that you are not on food stamps. Don’t take the “me first” approach and think it’s compatible with being a Christ-follower, a Christian. That’s the lesson Jesus taught his disciples that day, and it was a lesson in word and deed. Compassion! You’d think right after a mission trip the disciples didn’t need a reminder about compassion, but they did.
In fact, every church community needs that reminder rather frequently. Earlier this year I read Paul Hoffman’s “Faith forming Faith.” Paul Hoffman is a Lutheran Pastor in Seattle and his book is mostly about how the church can feed modern people’s spiritual hunger, even if they don’t know what their soul is truly yearning for. He tells the story of Tent City, a project in which a coalition of homeless people in Seattle puts up a Tent City for a total of ninety days somewhere in the city. Hoffman’s church decided to invite them on their nice lawn and, if you know anything about churches and their lawns, you will no doubt conclude that there was resistance to that idea within the congregation and its leadership.
That opposition was cracked by an unlikely person, a young woman named Kathryn who had recently attended their discipleship class; she had just learned what it means to be a Christian. This newborn Christian stood up and had this to say: “So, if we decide that we can’t invite Tent City to be on our front lawn, I will have to leave this congregation. If Tent City can’t be here, then I can’t be either, because what you have taught me about who we are as the people of God and what it means to be one of you will not be true.” There was silence in the sanctuary, and the matter was settled. She was right. Kathryn had been taught compassion – in theory that is -, but now it came to the practical application.
The question I would like to reverberate in our souls this morning is this: “God, where do you want me to practice compassion? Where do you need me to be compassionate?” Let us pay attention and stay hungry with the hungriest for the true gospel. Let us battle our own selfish instincts and give out of the richness of our hearts. The disciples had five loaves and two fishes that night. What do you have? Amen.