Morning Prayer: David Spain Hymn of Life *Break Thou the Bread of Life* Witness of Scripture: John 6: 1-15 Anthem *Old Irish Blessing* Denes Agay. Larry Reed, tenor Sermon *The Forgotten Boy* David Spain
Recorded on July 28, 2024
Bill Miller is an Episcopal priest whose stories stir laughter and tears, sometimes at the same time. He grew up on 30th Street in Houston, across the street neighbors to Hank and Rosemary Bartos—“good Catholics and lovers of life,” wrote Miller.When he was only 1, Miller began a Friday tradition of spending the day and the night with the Bartos family—his second parents—not missing a Friday for 12 years. “If there was one word that encapsulates my experience with Rosemary and Hank,” Miller wrote, “it was abundance…there was always plenty for an extra person or an unexpected guest—an extra slice of pizza from Shakey’s Pizza, an extra bingo card at the Knights of Columbus Hall, an extra cheeseburger at the bowling alley, an extra ticket to an important football game.” During the 1960’s, when remnants of segregation still existed in Houston, Bill remembers holding Rosemary’s hand while waiting at a bus stop. He spotted an older, beaten up, mostly unwashed bus filled with faces darker than his own. That bus did not stop to pick up Bill and Rosemary. He does not recall her exact words, but Bill learned from Rosemary that there was something wrong with that picture, and that an unjust duality that made some people feel inferior was wrong. As a small boy, though he could not yet articulate the core value of Christian theology, Rosemary helped Bill understand that every human being is created in the image of God. Her lessons were not confined to the bus stop. Next door to Rosemary and Hank lived Maureen, a lady in poor health whose husband was frequently out of town on long road trips. About 5:00 each evening, Rosemary called Maureen to meet her at the side fence so that she could pass over a portion of whatever home-cooked meal she and Hank were having. Miller wrote, “I figured out watching Rosemary reach up and over the fence every evening that whatever, or whoever, is on the other side of the fence matters. Sharing is simply what one does whenever one has enough and someone else does not.” (The Beer Drinker’s Guide to God, pp. 107-116) Bill’s boyhood stories are an urbanized version of another boy’s story from the lakeside country of Galilee as John’s gospel tells it. As Bill met Rosemary and Hank who showed him so much about Jesus and what love does, so John’s boy met Jesus and shows us so much about what love does.
When it comes to a story like the one John tells, it is tempting to demand from it more than the story intends to offer. Joanna Harader says it quite humorously when she writes, “I generally approach scripture from a hyper-analytical viewpoint, interrogating it within an inch of its life. I come to the Bible with a professional agenda—what do you have for my sermon this week? Very rarely do I simply delight in the biblical text. This gospel reading though, is profoundly delightful…to be appreciated for the sparks of joy in this familiar story of Jesus feeding the crowd.” (newsletter@christiancentury.org, 7/28/24) This story is not about delivering a delectable sermon; instead, this story is about delighting in divine sumptuousness. There is a feast at this table John sets.
This banquet of joy begins with the words “After this,” and we would ask after what?Jesus had been involved in several disputes—he has both religious and civic adversaries. There were questions about his authority, and some of the scribal authorities were upset by this rural rabbi. John rather carelessly generalizes Jesus’ opponents as “the Jews,” a characterization that has led to innumerable antisemitic horrors over the centuries.What we note here is that Jesus leaves the dispute to go to the other side where he devotes his energies to healing and feeding, not name-calling and vilifying. Even Jesus had limited time and energy for his days on God’s good earth —so he did not get absorbed in contention and bitterness; rather he went about doing good.
The crowds may have forgotten to pack a snack but they do bring delight. They are delighted
to be in pursuit of what matters in life.This is not a crowd that chases after vain glory or tempting idols; instead, they long for renewal, wisdom, connection with God. They did not come out to the wilderness looking for a little culinary hocus pocus from Jesus. They longed to be taught for life, not satiated for the moment; they cared for equity and justice not the false claims of ‘Pax Romana.’ Jesus, and the disciples, know however, that though people cannot live by bread alone, neither can they live long without it. So, they make provision—they care about the basic needs of the crowd. Their discussion is interesting—a true discussion because sometimes even those with the best intentions don’t always know the best thing to do. How do we feed, how do we care, what do we do? At least they are asking questions rather than simply shipping the crowds out of there on the next bus.
This is when the story gets wondrously delightful. Andrew says to Jesus, “There is a boy here whose family must have packed his lunchbox because he has 5 loaves of bread and 2 fish…it is not much but it is a start.” Jesus responds, “I can work with that.” And he does, and the crowd is fed and when the disciples bus the tables there is enough for people to have a box to go. As we think about this story, we trend toward the ‘how’ question, as in ‘how did Jesus do that?’It is an understandable question, although the merchants down at the bread bakery would just as soon Jesus not cut into their margins. The story, however, is less about how it happened and more about what can happen when Jesus gets people involved with caring for each other. Perhaps that is what John meant when he wrote, “Jesus knew what he was going to do.” Jesus knew why he was there, why he is here—it is to get people engaged with each other and involved with each other and caring about each other. He knew what he was doing, and as old Isaiah had said hundreds of years before, it was a little child who led them.
It is interesting that after everyone has been well-fed, they want to make Jesus their king,
which he decidedly rejects. That might seem curious until we realize there is a difference between being king and being Messiah. A king sits enthroned above the people, the Messiah lives among the people; a king puts distance between the posh filled palace and the poverty riddled people, the Messiah feeds the people; a king dictates what he wants to happen to his advantage, the Messiah embodies God’s presence for everyone’s benefit; a king will dispatch and dispose people as objects for royal expediency, the Messiah says people matter as subjects of sacred concern. Jesus will be Messiah on God’s terms, not king on Rome’s terms.
But the best part of the story—and there is much to delight here—is the little child who, along with his gift, was all but forgotten once everyone was fed.Years ago, when the great preacher at Riverside Church, Harry Emerson Fosdick, pondered this story, he offered that the miracle was rooted in the generosity of the little child. All those gathered witnessed the boy’s gift to Jesus when he handed up the 5 loaves and 2 fish, because sharing is what one does when one has enough and someone else does not. Fosdick suggested the boy’s act of generosity inspired the crowd’s acts of generosity. It is a powerful reminder of the delight that can happen when people work together to create a banquet that is far greater than the sum of what could be done individually. And perhaps John also wants us to remember that the final delight in the story is God’s, who celebrates when God’s children take care of each other.
What happened that day near the Sea of Galilee is a very sacred, God kind of act.We hear people sometimes say when something happens, “it was a God-thing.” We remember things God does, especially when it comes to little ones. Remember, when the forces of envy and disappointment had done their worst, God heard Abel’s lifeblood crying out from the ground; when the forces of jealousy and expediency had done their worst, God heard the cries of the boy Ishmael; when the assumptions of the firstborn claimed supremacy, God called only a boy named David; when Caesar Augustus forced a population to be counted for the empire’s intention, God birthed a child named Jesus to be given for the world’s redemption. Maybe Jesus saw in the little child’s gift of bread and fish, his own life given—bread and cup for the world. “I can do something with this,” Jesus said referring not only to the boy’s gift, but also to his life.
John’s gospel writes that what Jesus did that day was a sign, and we would do well to ask a sign of what? In this story recorded in all four gospels, John’s story is a sign that when Jesus is around, a community is created not an isolated religion; when Jesus is around, there is enough for everyone not just abundance for a few; when Jesus is around, the focus becomes care for the neighbor not just satiation for the self; when Jesus is around, it is impossible to know in the moment how a small act of goodness entrusted into God’s good delight will ripple through life.
Bishop Ken Untener has written, “We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing this. This enables us to do something, and to do it very well…We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker. We are workers, not master builders, ministers not messiahs. We are prophets of a future not our own.” The way Michael Curry said it was, “My job is to plant seeds of love, and to keep on planting, even—or especially—when bad weather comes. It’s folly to think I can know the grand plan, how my small action fits into the larger whole. All I can do is check myself and ask, ‘Do my actions look like love?’” (Love Is the Way, pp. 120, 122, 134)
Bill Miller learned that truth growing up on 30th Street in Houston, Texas in the company of Hank and Rosemary Bartos—"that sometimes you cross the other side of the street to discover true virtue, to appreciate overflowing abundance, to courageously stand up for justice and righteousness, and to understand there will always be enough to share with somebody in need.” (Ibid., 115-116) Bill Miller, the little boy who grew up to be an Episcopal priest, remembered all that when he said the rosary at Hank’s funeral; John’s gospel remembered all that when he told us about a little boy with 5 loaves and 2 fish. He was almost the forgotten boy—but John’s gospel does not forget him, and neither shall we.