Remember that next week, we will be enjoying services by the Lake. Reach out for details or search your inbox for more information.
The Village Fair and UnFair 5K is on August 19th!!
Why spend your money for what is not bread:
your wages for what fails to satisfy?
Heed me, and you shall eat well,
you shall delight in rich fare. Isaiah 55
Other translations of “heed me” are: “bend your ear and come to me” or “really listen to me”. It is a call to listen and hear what is most important. Not the shiny pretty stuff we buy and the sweet snack-y stuff we eat. God’s Love is bigger than that. It is a banquet of divine joy of overflowing love. But don’t worry, we have Jesus to bring us human sustenance as well as God’s sustenance. We simply need to trust.
It’s so easy, as we all know, to get caught up in work and to-dos and to not listen. It’s easy to get caught up in the net of “things are so unfair” that we don’t see. Or we’re hurting and we forget to look beyond the hurts.
Perhaps, we just need to notice and sometimes even rethink our relationship to Grace. Sometimes things happen that make us stumble and fall. Perhaps, in those times, God is sad too. PAUSE. God is sad for us, extending that overflowing love into the things that we must endure (whether we want to or not). It feels often, like that is when God shows up. Maybe because that’s when we’re listening and looking. Perhaps it’s then that we most notice that God is with us. Fully with us. Compassionately with us. We’re always at God’s Table of Love, even when we don’t think we are.
God’s Love is fully with us. And God is asking us to live fully.
Our passage today follows the terrible death of John the Baptist. Jesus wants to be alone. Likely to mourn. Likely to pray. Maybe to ponder what’s ahead for him. To feel and to strengthen himself in God’s Love. Quietly and alone.
Then, he notices the crowds. They need him. Maybe now more than ever. He sets aside his own needs for the needs of the community. He knows there is much needed work to do (and time to mourn later). He brings everyone together around…food. Sustenance of body and spirit. Perhaps, we see echoes of Communion here. The table where we put aside our differences, let go of trespasses, debts, mistakes, and hurts to come together as One.
Five loaves and two fish makes seven. Seven is a sacred number of wholeness, togetherness, and Oneness. We are brought together around food and nourishment.
Notice how Jesus gives the food to the disciples to give to the people. We are always feeding one another, in one way or another.
God’s Love is the Banquet. Jesus feeds us God’s Love and the sustenance of bread and wine, It goes together. Feeding one another on a basic level for life and survival, as well as feeding one another the deeper nourishment. The soul food.
There is a balance in this nourishment. There isn’t one without the other. Perhaps it is the same with suffering, pain, hurts, grief. There isn’t only the inward, solitary space. That space that Jesus wanted for himself in the beginning of the passage. There is also an outward focus that these human sufferings are universal and unite us with one another. When we separate our pain as “too different” from our shared human experience, we get lost in ourselves and forget the wholeness of creation. We forget what matters. Yes, we matter and so does our suffering, but what matters most is that we are not alone in it.
Pain and suffering are our opportunities to move closer to one another and also more closely to Grace. Ever notice how life goes along swimmingly and we forget to pray at night, we forget to be grateful for our morning breath, or the food on our tables. We get busy and distracted.
The hard stuff reminds us that God is still there, waiting for us. Within the pain is God’s Love. It’s always there, but we forget to notice until those sharp points remind us that we need the tender balm of God’s Love. There’s no need for guilt or shame for this forgetting. It’s just a coming back to noticing, a remembering, and a nudge that we can do better. Better is allowing ourselves to move closer to God, not farther away. It sometimes feels easiest when we’re in pain to walk away from other people, to cast blame, and get lost in our suffering.
There’s a quote from Pema Chodron that says: when life is difficult, lean into the sharp points. Jesus asks us to do the same. Lean in, pray, notice, remember. The sharp points will always come, no matter how much we try to avoid them, but to lean in softens us and leads us to compassion with and for one another. Learning from the sharp points and experiencing the uncomfortable reminds us that we are all in this together. We need each other. We need to be the hands of God’s love in this world. That’s wisdom with compassion.
We’re taught throughout our days and our weeks (and months and years) to hold on. To hold on tightly to everything. To money. To stuff. To jobs. Security. To being right. To winning. We’re so good at this that we hold tight to worry and fear and grudges. We create identity around this holding on: I’m a busy person, I’m a coffee drinker, I’m a work-a-holic, I’m an insomniac, (fill in your own I’m a ____ here). The list is endless.
God’s love asks us to let go of all of that. God’s love asks us to loosen the grip and trust. There will always be another banquet, even if we let go of the things that make us secure. God will always love us, even if we let go of our most trusted masks. Jesus will always see to it that we are fed, even if we give all our food away.
Give, even, maybe especially, when it feels like there isn’t enough. Notice within your own suffering the suffering of those around you. When you settle in to pray notice the shared prayer within your own prayer. Notice where your tears are collective tears and not only your own.
Let go. Trust. See what happens. Listen with bended ear for God’s whisper.
Go forth and feed someone in whatever way nourishment is yours to give. If in doubt, share food. Be part of the banquet of overflowing love.
Community Church of North Orange & Tully 