Proper 11, Year B
29 July 2012
Emmanuel Episcopal Church, Athens, Ga.
Old Testament: 2 Samuel 11:1-15 (David & Bathsheba conceive a child)
Psalm: 14
Epistle: Ephesians 3:14-21
Gospel: John 6:1-21 (feeding of the 5000; JC walking on water to the apostles' boat)
This week we continue to follow Jesus back and forth across the Sea of
Galilee.
-His home territory
-Preaching, teaching, healing
-Seeking a bit of rest, even: but his growing reputation means the
crowds will have none of that: they need him.
But this week the action has switched away from Mark, to John’s account
of Jesus’s early ministry.
-Feeding of the 5000 the only miracle story recorded in all four
Gospels
-This is the kind of statistic that tells us the story was tremendously
important for the writer’s - and therefore the early Church’s - understanding
of who Jesus was, and therefore of the very character of God.
I want to suggest today that part of that heightened importance given
to this story of Jesus’s miraculous provision of food for a large crowd of
people has to do with one of the themes of John’s Gospel: knowledge,
information, is only powerful to a point, and it is the Kingdom of God that
picks up where the power of knowledge ends.
So I’m already caught up in Olympics fever as much as anyone (hope our
women’s soccer team will do us proud, again; the men didn’t even qualify), and
in thinking about the amazing power - indeed the miraculous power - that human
knowledge these days can acheive, I couldn’t help but wonder about what
knowledge has done to create the super athletes of our time. Consider for a
moment the distinct possibility that the careful, intense application of
scientific knowledge to the world of sports in the modern era has produced
nothing less than miraculous results. And I mean miraculous not just compared
to 100 or 50 years ago, but compared to 20, or 10 years ago. The examples are
too numerous to list, really. Think of the speed of a Usain Bolt or Tyson Gay
compared to those lovely chaps in Chariots of Fire! Think of the strength,
power, and speed of a Michael Phelps compared to the not-too-shabby swimming of
Mark Spitz. Think of my hero of 30 years ago, Bjorn Borg, who was no slouch of
a tennis player - wooden rackets and all - but who had NOTHING like the
incredible power, wicked topspin, and pinpoint placement of a Rafa Nadal or
Roger Federer.
The achievement of these athletes and countless more like them owes a
tremendous debt to NEW KNOWLEDGE, doesn’t it? The careful, intricate, highly
scientific study of physiology, nutrition, respiration; the million-dollar
research programs on new equipment technology, from shoes to rackets to
swimsuits - you name it. The amazing power of applied information is partly
what goes into producing an Olympic or other world-class athlete in the early
21st century - really, into producing miracle-workers.
But when we see these athletes do their thing, however inhuman it may
look at times, don’t we STILL KNOW, SOMEHOW, that the careful, scientific
knowledge that produced their elaborate nutrition programs and training
regimens and playing techniques was not really enough, BY ITSELF, to stun the
crowd with another amazing shot, to garner the gold medal, to set the new world
record? Don’t we know that underneath all that technical development must also
come boatloads of sheer determination, years of willing the body through tough
training regimens, the fortitude to play through pain, and a deep well of
inspiration?
That is, in the production of world-class athletes - and in our lives
in light of the Gospel, isn’t there a limit to what human knowledge can do for
us? A point at which we still have to look back to first things?
Jesus, in his opening question today, heads straight for the basic
human need: it’s the hour for a meal; we are all accustomed to buying bread
from the shops; where and how shall we do this and ensure these good people
don’t go hungry?
And what’s the disciples’ reaction? Well, they’re suddenly full of
knowledge, aren’t they? Full of information: a rough calculation suggests that
six months wages would hardly by a crumb for each member of this size crowd,
says one. A boy here has five loaves of bread and two fish, says another, “but
what good is such a small amount to this massive group.”
They are stunned in the face of the staggering need and can only offer
the collection of knowledge about the need and calculations about the scope of
the need and. . . and . . . the people are getting hungrier by the minute.
The Gospel of Jesus Christ, my sisters & brothers, picks up where
human knowledge reaches the limit of its powers.
Just as the miraculous feat of the athlete, even today, points not
primarily to the science that went into producing such a finely tuned human
machine, but to the inspiration and fortitude and will-power within that person
- that is, to the very character of that person...so the feeding of the 5000
points away from knowledge as we know it...away from the information-collecting
of the disciples...away from the stalled system of what to do in the face of
overwhelming need...away from the movement toward ideology when the crowd
senses someone with great power (“Let’s make him king!”)...
No, the feeding of the 5000 points to a new kind of knowledge and the
miraculous new power that goes with it:
the knowledge of the love of God for all Creation; the knowledge of that
love as expressed in the one sitting on the hill, resting - bothered not so
much by a new flood of information about the overwhelming needs out there, but
instead “bothered” by the deep desire to be in authentic relationship with all
who crossed his path, and therefore animated by noting their most basic needs.
The one whose presence always seemed - often miraculously - to be a multiplier;
the one who’s body became abundant food, indeed. Yes, there is an end to the
often incredible power that comes from human knowledge and information. There
is a point where it ceases to help.
The next step is love.
