God Will Provide

Recently I had a chance to go down into the old Rochester subway system – beneath what is now Broad Street – for a prayer experience with the youth group.  While I was down there I thought of a man I knew who had lived down there for years.  His name was John, and John would always come visit me at my work on South Avenue.

Two things about John.  First, because he saw me wearing a watch like I have on now – he nicknamed me, “Rolex.”  I tried to tell him it wasn’t but he didn’t care.

And John would always say to me, “Hey, Rolex, I have something to show you!”  Even though I would ask him to, he would never describe it.  He always wanted me to come and see what he was talking about.

I think about John when I think of today’s readings. 

For the past few weeks, the church has been taking us through a few specific passages from the gospel of John:

• 2 weeks ago – multiplication of the loaves – introduces the bread theme.
• Last week – Jesus says don’t work for food that perishes; whoever comes to me won’t go away hungry
• This week – I am the bread of life; your ancestors ate manna but this is the living bread

Clearly the church is saying, “Hey, Rolex, I have something to show you!”

One of the primary messages that comes back again and again in the scriptures is that God will provide for and take care of you.

And the bible seems to be a record of people both believing this and continually forgetting it.  Probably not much different from us.

One of the foundational stories of God providing for people – that Jesus cites today – is the manna story.

You may remember, in the manna story, the Israelites were wandering in the desert.  They were hungry and complainy (not just Snickers “hangry” – hangry on steroids).  So God provides this flaky substance that they could gather and eat. It’s not what they expected but it sustained them.

Theologian and preacher Barbara Brown Taylor “If your manna has to drop straight out of heaven looking like a perfect loaf of butter-crust bread, then chances are you are going to go hungry a lot. When you do not get the miracle you are praying for, you are going to think that God is ignoring you or punishing you or – worse yet – that God is not there…. Meanwhile you are going to miss a lot of other things God is doing for you because they are too ordinary…”

I think a lot of us can relate to the idea that we did not get the miracle we prayed for.  And we might also relate to the idea that we can easily miss ordinary things – maybe because our lives have become so encumbered or distracted.  We can forget that one of the key parts of the manna story was the instruction, “Take only what you need and make sure everyone has enough…”

Because it’s often hard to see how God is caring for us, I know I can tend to do a few things:

1) I try to micromanage God.  I offer all kinds of helpful tips and coaching to God on how God can help me continue to live the life that I am accustomed to.  God rarely seems interested in what I think is quality advice, but I keep trying.

2) I get nervous and worry – thinking that the outcome of the situation will be improved if I only worry or obsess a bit more

3) I constrict – Part of me shuts down, I get less patient, less generous, less understanding.

One of my favorite writers Rebecca Solnit says that “being in the middle of a story is a really hard place,” because we don’t know how the story is going to end.

We know from biology that when we get afraid, we start using a part of our brain that is really good in emergencies but not really helpful in other ways.

And we’re all in the middle of a lot of stories right now.  Some personal.  Some collective.  And some of the uncertainties in these stories are REALLY big.

I know that just this past week I have had a few moments where I got overwhelmed.

Some of you may know that my mom’s been in the hospital and had 2 surgeries this week.  I watch the news and see the devastating domestic and global wildfires, the drought, the flooding and have serious concerns about the accelerating effects of climate change.  I worry about the delta variant that is raging across the United States and around the world.  And then we hear more stories of our elected officials sexually harassing their staff and/or abusing their power.

And just the other day in the midst of one of these existential crises, my shoe gets caught under the edge of the door at work and separates the sole from the shoe itself.  So I am walking back to my office with my shoe literally flopping off my foot.  I looked up to the sky and said, “Really?  Even my shoes?”

And of course God responded, “Hey, Rolex, I have something to show you…”

I know that I often need to stop and breathe.  To remind myself that God is with me and God is with us. That God cares deeply for us and for this world.  That God is providing for me and has provided for me – even when I can’t recognize or understand it. And that it’s not always just on God’s shoulders.

Rebecca Solnit reminds us that stories don’t just write themselves.  They are shaped by our choices.  “Uncertainty doesn’t mean, ‘trust to the future to take care of itself’…Good things happened because people organized, took initiative and intervened, refused, stood up, or just were generous and engaged.”

We see that in the story of the feeding of the 5000.  Jesus didn’t just say, “God, I hope this crisis ends well….”  He organized and took initiative and people were generous and engaged.

What always strikes me about the story of the feeding of the 5000 is that I don’t think this miracle was just about the bread.  It was about the bread of life that Jesus mentions today.  It’s about how present he was to people and about how safe and welcomed people felt in the company of Jesus.  

Fr. Jim often references the story of an orphanage in Russia where a high percentage of the babies were dying – in spite of having food, shelter and medicine.  And they just couldn’t figure out what was happening.  Finally one of the nurses started to hold the babies for a certain amount of time every night and each of those babies thrived.

Maya Angelou – “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

That’s what church is supposed to be – a place of belonging – and, we, in turn, are asked to go into the world and

Make others feel welcomed.

Make others feel acknowledged.

Make others feel visible and like their lives matter. 

And to especially to that for all those who are rejected, forgotten and left behind.  We get fed so that we can then be food for others.

Now in today’s reading, we hear Jesus talk about “eternal life”.  I have often struggled with that idea and don’t always know what to do with it.  The church has historically focused a lot of energy on the afterlife  – who gets it, how you get it, where it is and what it’s like there.

But I am happy to report that I had a bit of a revelation recently related to this idea. It only took 50 years, but, hey, better late than never.

Recently, my friend Steve’s father died.  They are a Jewish family, and as is the custom, they sit shiva in their home and people come to offer condolences.  As is also the custom, there is a prayer service in the home (called a minyan) led by the rabbi.

During the minyan service, they read a poem by Merrit Malloy that gave me a whole different take on “living forever” (which I’m guessing was likely more consistent with Jesus’ perspective).  In the poem, it says:

“When I die give what’s left of me away

And if you need to cry, cry for your brother

Walking the street beside you

And when you need me, put your arms around anyone

And give to them what you need to give to me.

Look for me in the people I’ve known

Or loved, and if you cannot give me away,

At least let me live in your eyes

Love doesn’t die, people do.

So, when all that’s left of me is love, give me away”

I totally think Jesus would have resonated with this and said, “Yes, of course.  If you want to live forever, love other people well…”

Love isn’t about what comes later – when the story is over.  Love is about what comes now which then shapes what happens later.

We’re in the middle of a lot of stories right now – and we don’t know how these stories are going to end.

God understands that we are tired and afraid and can’t do it on our own.  So God provides for us.  The provisions may not be things we expect or recognize and may look as ordinary as bread.  Yet what we are given helps us get up and keep going.

I am guessing that many of you have been watching the Olympics lately.  I keep telling myself I’m going to go to bed early every night, but I can’t pull myself away from the drama.

One thing I love about the Olympics is that pretty much every day, there’s an athlete or team that just digs deep and seems hungrier than the rest – pushing themselves to their capacities.  It’s just really compelling and inspiring to witness.

Well St. Augustine once said, “Christ is the bread, awaiting hunger…”

Jesus invites us to stay hungry this week.  He invites us to seek opportunities to medal in kindness, compassion, generosity or justice.  And the good news is that we don’t need to go off to Lake Placid or Colorado Springs to train for our medal.  Our training is best done in the everyday, ordinary circumstances of our lives doing as much good as we can in as many ways as we can.