Five Thousand Fed

Jn 6:2-14

I pass the church every day on my way to work: City Church. It sits on the north-east corner of 10th and Robinson. The building is three stories tall, and looks like an old Masonic temple, with its dome. Every day, I see the homeless huddled on its west-facing, lee-ward, side.

Well, this huge block of a building does make a great windbreak. It also casts a healthy shadow in the winter. It's where I would go.

Until recently, I've driven on the south side of the building. Recent construction along my route has forced me to drive along that west side.

Where I see those people lined up to receive coffee and donuts.

I have my suspicions about the theology of this place. On the south side of 10th, across the street from the church, is a little office building with the sign "City Church, Inc." So, I'm thinking it's a non-demoninational church; one that preaches hell fire and damnation. I have been known to pass my silent judgement on this church.

The people who come on Sunday are not homeless. They have nice cars and nice clothes.

Yet some of them come once or twice during the working week to feed these people who have gathered in the shadow of their church.

They may have every other bit of the gospel 180° wrong. But they got at least this one bit right: "I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat."

I've thought about this story all day. These Living Mysteries begin in the desert, where Jesus is forced to confront temptations within himself. At the wedding feast, he ministers to a few people. As he travels, he heals more people. Now, he feeds these five thousand (not counting women and children). It seems his blessings are spreading further and further out, like ripples.

Christianity is often accused of being "Pie in the sky in the sweet by and by", and there's validity in the criticism. We can get all twisted up about some fairly impractical heady stuff. Are you pre-rapture or post-rapture? Are these the end times? And so on.

But here, taking care of people's basic needs is recognized. No, more: it is sanctified. Jesus doesn't promise to be with us when we argue about fine points of theology. He promises to be with us when we pray as a community. He promises to be with us when we visit the prisoner. He promises to be with us when we soothe the dying.

Indeed, he tells us that we see his face when we hand that cup of joe to the homeless.