“Food Fit For a King”

Tenth Sunday after Pentecost

July 28, 2024

2 Kings 4:42-44

John 6:1-21

Children’s Message:

We’re going to get six weeks of hearing Jesus call himself the bread of life. So, I decided to make bread yesterday. Do you want to try some? I made it especially for you. But wait, do you think I should have brought enough bread for everyone? I’m sorry. I didn’t. Maybe you can share your bread. Is there enough to share with everyone?

Today’s gospel was about Jesus gathering a crowd of over 5,000 people together in one place while he taught. That’s a LOT of people. More than the people we have here. A LOT more. And they were getting hungry. What did Jesus do? He fed them. But what did he use to feed them? And where did he get it?

One boy offered 5 small loaves of bread and two fish. It was all he had. Is that enough to feed more than 5,000 people? Nope. So, how did Jesus do it? Could the boy have just kept his lunch for himself and not bothered with everyone else? At least he could have gotten enough to eat.

Sometimes we want to keep the little we have for ourselves because we’re afraid that if we share, nobody will get enough--including ourselves. But God can do some pretty amazing things with what we share. So, when we give our offering, we give what we have and trust God to make it more. And when we give our food, we give what we have and trust God to make it more. And when we give ourselves, we give what we have and trust God to make it more.

Let’s pray. Dear God, thank you for all that we have. Help us give it to others and trust that you will make it more. Amen.

Message:

One of the commentaries I read this week suggested baking bread in preparation for preaching about bread. There’s actually a cookbook devotional called “Bake & Pray: Liturgies and Recipes for Baking Bread as a Spiritual Practice” written by Kendall Vanderslice. She suggests that the process of baking is liturgical and honors many of the ways that God shows up in Scripture as provision for God’s people. It’s a tangible, bodily experience—not only to go through the process of mixing and kneading and waiting and baking, but also eating and sharing with others.

I don’t bake bread often, and when I do, I typically use a breadmaking machine. It ensures that the bread will actually come out right. In the past, my attempts at bread baking usually turns out a loaf that is crunchy on the outside and still doughy in the middle. One day—many years ago—I tried three times before I gave up and turned in my apron. My grandmother I am not.

As I mentioned, these next six weeks are going to be all about bread. We jumped from Mark’s telling of the gospel to John’s. John’s account is different. His focus is different. This feeding of the 5,000 takes the place of the other gospels’ Passover Dinner—the Last Supper in which Jesus reframes the Seder meal, telling the disciples that the bread is HIM, and the wine is his blood. John doesn’t tell that story. He tells this one. And over the next six weeks, Jesus will build on his identity as the Bread of Life, given for the world.

For John, Jesus has insider knowledge about everything that’s going to happen. John focuses on Jesus’ identity as God much more than his identity as human. And he does it so eloquently. John lifts up seven signs that point to Jesus’ divinity. This mass feeding is one of them. Seven times, Jesus responds to questions or calls himself “I AM,” the identity God claims at the burning bush when Moses asks who he has encountered. John focuses on seven primary disciples, seven named men, and seven named women. In John, Jesus makes seven references to the hour of his revealing. And so on. Seven is the number that illuminates the divine.

So, this miracle—this sign—has a lot to say about who Jesus is and what he is about. And one of those things has to do with the importance of bread. Bread is essential in just about every culture I can think of. Whether it’s tortillas in Latin America, naan in India, pita in Palestine, or Wonder Bread in Arkansas, bread is essential. It is a staple of culture. It signifies more than food. It signifies community. Fellowship. Friendship.

There’s a reason people incorporate food into just about every gathering or celebration. Food is something every person needs. It doesn’t matter how rich or poor you are. It doesn’t matter where you come from or where you’re going—food is essential. Food is how we show solidarity. Casseroles at a death. Cake on a birthday. Potlucks and luncheons and gatherings over coffee and pastries. In Middle Eastern cultures—like the one Jesus came from—breaking bread together means you recognize your connection to one another.

Imagine what that must have meant for him to break bread with more than 5,000 families from a variety of cultures and backgrounds. They weren’t all Jewish. There were likely Romans and Greeks and Samaritans there, too. And Jesus sat with them all. He broke the bread apart and fed them. All of them. Not just the ones he agreed with. Not just the ones he liked. Not just the ones who came from his neck of the world. Not just the ones who were on his side. He fed them all. He connected with them all. He told them all—over a slice of bread—that they mattered. He honored them. He saw them. He fed them.

With the small lunch pail of a young boy, God made so much more. No wonder they wanted to make him king. Which, of course, is the last thing Jesus wanted. If you recall the stories of the Hebrew Bible—the Old Testament—the people of Israel begged God to give them a king. They wanted to be like the other nations. It felt to them as if having a king would give them more stability, more guarantees—especially if they were ever attacked. They needed a military leader. Like amassing an arsenal of weapons in case your house is ever burglarized, Israel wanted a way to take care of themselves.

That decision would lead them down very dark paths. Their first king, Saul, would become corrupt. Their second king, David, would do great things—but horrible things, as well. His son, Solomon, would build the Temple, but he would also stray from God’s ways. And each generation would get further and further away from God’s intended hope for the people of Israel. Until they ended up with Herod. All because they wanted to be in control.

Jesus saw this in the people who thought he would make a great king. They didn’t understand how God’s reign worked (works). They thought that if God was on their side, they couldn’t lose. Sounds familiar? Had they been successful in elevating Jesus to the throne, how long would it have taken before they realized just how bad a decision that would have been? A week? As Jesus welcomed Romans and Greeks and Samaritans and Assyrians and everyone else into the protection of the nation? As he redistributed the wealth of the political and religious leaders to the poor and oppressed? As he freed the slaves and forgave the sinners? As he invited the outcast to daily meals at the palace?

Jesus knew that’s not what they wanted. They didn’t seek a nation led by God. They had that once and turned it down. What they wanted was to always have their fill and to be released from the world’s worries by being superior to anyone who would cross them. And that’s just not how God works.

Jesus—the true Christ—will always be beyond the reach of political aspirations. Instead, he can be found with the masses; with the poor and the hungry, the sick and worn. He will be found feeding the outcast and eating with sinners. He is the bread of life for all who long to belong, to be invited to the table, to be welcome in the kingdom.

Pastor Tobi White

Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church

Lincoln, NE