Jim Melnyk: “No Litmus Test Here”
In some ways, it seems the feeding of the five thousand marks the beginning of the end for Jesus. Now, I guess that probably sounds strange at first. Here is a miracle of miracles enacted by Jesus before thousands of witnesses – involving thousands of witnesses in a stomach-filling, concrete way – told in all four Gospels – and yet even in the midst of the moment, the cross looms just over the horizon. In Matthew, Mark, and Luke, mention of the cross follows almost immediately after the feeding. In John's Gospel, the religious leaders attack Jesus because the crowd would make the miracle worker their king – even though many followers leave Jesus behind – unable to understand all his talk about being the bread of life.
One might wonder if Jesus has an epiphany of sorts as the last crumbs are gathered from the grass and dropped into the last basket. Five thousand men, and probably just as many women and children have just eaten their fill – eaten their fill, the Gospel writers tell us. Jesus is exhausted – having spent the entire day teaching and healing, and then feeding so many. All he can think about is the nearest exit so he can be alone with God and sort out what's happening in his ministry
Perhaps the looks in the eyes of the multitude tell him something he hasn't been willing to believe to this point – that the reign of God won't come by slight of hand, or “miraculous, Band-Aid interventions: a storm calmed here, a crowd fed there, a mother-in-law cured back down the road.”[1] The coming reign of God will take much more of Jesus than anyone has the right to ask – and that is food for thought – and food for prayer, indeed.
Through Jesus God comes into the world in a wild paradox of power. The true mystery of God's reign is not the ability of Jesus to take a few loaves and a couple of fish and feed the equivalent of a small town. The true mystery of God's reign is a Savior who finds himself surrounded by incredible need and is filled with gut-wrenching compassion! The power in Jesus comes not because he has the ability to act – to build a banquet out of thin air – but because he has the heart and the will – the desire and the need – the compassion and the love – to act. Perhaps the power in Jesus comes from his understanding of The Second Isaiah, who proclaims a banquet for all who hunger and thirst – a banquet that is offered by the grace of God to all who find themselves in exile.
Miracles in the Gospels are never just miracles by themselves; they are always enacted sermons – acted parables of God's gracious love – reminders of the kindliness of God toward those in need. Jesus, who is Emanuel – God with us – acts out that love for humanity as he feeds first their souls, and then their bodies.
It is to such a ministry of compassion that God calls each of us today. “You give them something to eat,” is no mere throw-away line delivered by Jesus to his disciples. To live with the openness and the compassion of Christ burning in our veins is to enter into the mystery of God's reign! In a world where openness and compassion is understood as weakness – a world where we are constantly being told to be afraid of that which we do not know or that which is different from us – a world where we are told there is not enough of what we need to go around – we are challenged to stand firm with the mind of Christ. After all, it is openness and compassion that places Jesus squarely in the path of the religious and political juggernaut – a juggernaut that, in the end, is powerless to stop the work of God!
It is compassion and openness to the other that moves Jesus further and further to the fringes of his society – failing every litmus test the powers-that-be can throw his way – breaking bread with outcasts and sinners just as easily as he does with those who perceive themselves as “righteous.”
It is the compassion of Christ within us which stirs our hearts to action, but which scares the powerful of this world as well. If it were not so, why would the powerful have sought Jesus' death with such an urgent sense of purpose? If the compassion of Christ doesn't scare the powerful of this world, then why do so many Christians feel such a burning need to “balance” or even negate compassion with judgment? Why do the powers-that-be spend so much time telling us to be afraid? Why are we so often paralyzed when there's so much we can do? How do we let go of fear in spite of the news these days out of places like the CDC or our political processes? I can only hope that those who wander the hallowed halls of Congress will heed the words of 2 Isaiah and the Gospel of Matthew as they continue their financial and healthcare debates.
The world is still handing out litmus tests on a regular basis – and the compassion of Christ, more often than not, seems to come up the wrong color in the eyes of the examiners! Too often we meet the world’s reality of pain and need with an air of superiority or a fear that there’s just not enough of God’s love to cover everyone. From where do we get such models for ministry? Certainly not from Jesus! Where does Jesus tell us to hold on tight to what we have? Where does Jesus tell us to be afraid? Jesus is the One who constantly reminds us, “Be not afraid!”
Our challenge is to meet the world's needs with the compassion of Christ – purposely to fail the world's litmus tests no matter how much it shakes up the world – no matter what the personal cost – that’s the “take up and carry our cross and follow Jesus” part of it all. We are to treat one another, our neighbor, and ourselves with the same kind of self-giving, caring love exhibited by Jesus. Our call is to find ways which allow us to be an active part of the mystery of God's reign – by reaching out to people – not because we have the power to do so, but because we have the heart and the will, the desire and the need, the compassion and the love to do so – because we have the heart and the will, the desire and the need, the compassion and the love to feed their souls, and to feed their bodies. Something I’ve witnessed done so well at St. Paul’s since I’ve become a part of this community!
Jesus tells his disciples, and across the ages he tells us, “You give them something to eat. You find the ways to care for one another – to meet one another's needs. You,” Jesus tells us, “You must find a way to care about those we call ‘the other’ as much as you care about your own selves.”
I see no litmus tests here. The disciples aren't asked to check if a recipient has a job or was in synagogue last week. They aren’t asked if they had made a recent pilgrimage to Jerusalem for one of the religious festivals. There is no indication anyone checks on how many of the Ten Commandments each person had kept or had broken, or if the verses are properly displayed somewhere in each of their villages. There isn't even a check to see if the hungry are Jews or not – and chances are there are more than a few gentiles among the crowd who had turned out to hear this intriguing rabbi. My God! That Jesus will just let anyone sit at table with him, won't he? “Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.[2]” Talk about radical thinking! No wonder someone like one of my spiritual heroes, Desmond Tutu, can proclaim, “All, all, all are welcome! All are welcome! All are welcome!”
The people came and they listened. They were hungry in both body and soul. The people came. They found healing and then they were fed. It's as simple as that. In simplicity and in compassion the mystery of the Reign of God is made known.
How and when have we held back from showing compassion and care? When have we willingly fed others unselfishly? When have we been kingdom cooks and kingdom servers? In this story Jesus gives us an enacted parable. The kingdom of heaven is like seeing hungry people and feeding them, no questions asked. The kingdom of heaven is like finding oneself hungry, and being fed simply for being a human being created in the image and likeness of God. What, then, is Jesus expecting from us?
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