The other day, I found myself weeping over a song posted on Facebook. It was written about the female eagle who is part of the famous pair, Jackie and Shadow. She has been recorded on camera since 2019 when Shadow became her mate and together they work to produce eggs, incubate them and raise their eaglets. In the past few weeks, the fierce Queen of the Lake has been absent and was later spotted under attack by other eagles, weak and unable to fly. She was rescued and taken to a wildlife recovery organization. It’s unclear why she is so sick and although she is fighting for life, her survival is uncertain.
Thousands of people have been following her story. The community of people who care deeply about this eagle pair are deeply invested in them. As a result, many have donated over $10M to protect their habitat. All of us have learned the details of eagle anatomy and biology. The raptor center that cares for her is overwhelmed with fans wanting information but also with donations to help care for all their patients in trouble. One fan wrote a song whose chorus is “Jackie, hang on. Shadow will be there to show you the way home.” At that line, I just lost it.
Anyone who knows anything about love and grief will recognize that more than just the illness of an eagle in California is going on, not just for me but for everyone who is invested in Jackie and Shadow. We are grieving because we have come to love them and want them to thrive. We are also grieving because we know that our actions and presence have affected the habitat and survival of, not just this species, but of all life on this planet.
And we are grieving our own losses; parents who are facing dementia and decline, children who didn’t live to become full grown, our own aging process, the death of loved ones and the pain of separation. We mourn for those who are struggling with poverty, lack of shelter and untreated medical concerns. We know the horror of war and the deep wounds of gun violence, including last week’s shooting at the Seattle Center. Sometimes, it’s just too much to take! Humans are experts at projecting all our emotions and experiences onto others, even other species!
Yet, we are not those who grieve alone or without hope. As we grapple and struggle with our own shortcomings and failures, broken relationships, weakness, suffering and grief, like Jacob wrestling with an angel, we are held and captured by a God who will not let us go. We are incorporated into a much larger community, the Body of Christ where together we hold one another up and encourage each other to live out the mission of Jesus in our world.
In the Church, the primary vision of this shared life with God is the Eucharist, the great banquet feast where all are welcome, fed and known. This is the table where the sacrificial love of Christ is revealed every time the community gathers together in worship, prayer and fellowship.
In the story of the feeding of the 5,000 we hear and account of this communion with God and one another. Jesus, in grief over the horrific death of John the Baptist, and exhausted by the cares and concerns of the crowds attempts to get some time away for prayer and rest. Hordes of people follow him, looking for healing, compassion and hope in their despair. In a deserted place, much like the Israelites who wandered in the wilderness found themselves, they are without adequate food, shelter and sustenance.
The account of what happens next is found in all four gospels. It becomes the paradigmatic story about the ministry of Jesus and the continuing mission of the Christian Church. The four-fold action of “take, bless, break and share” becomes the model of how Christians gather in God’s name.
The first action is when Jesus receives the disciple’s offering. When Jesus tells them, “You give them something to eat,” they are confounded. The best they can come up with is 5 loaves of bread and two fish, not nearly enough for the thousands who are present. But God can do more than we can ask or imagine.
All God asks of us is to offer what we have, whether it be the widow’s 2 small coins or all the possessions of the rich young ruler. When we receive the bread and the wine at the Eucharistic offering, we are placing on this altar, not only these elements but the offering of our very selves, “our souls and bodies” for God to use. The priest takes what we have offered and lifts them up to God in faith and trust in God’s ability to multiply them.
The second action of the Eucharistic feast is the blessing. Jesus looks up to heaven as he receives what they have collected. This act of thanksgiving and consecration makes holy all that we offer before God. God’s miraculous provision is enacted in our daily lives, in the receiving of our daily bread.
The founder of our Edible Hope Kitchen, Nancy Rogers, talks about her many years of serving the poor and hungry in our neighborhood. During 30 of those years, they had no budget, no staff and no outside assistance. As the numbers of hungry, needy people increased they often prayed and turned out their own pockets to provide for them. It was a daily experience of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes. In 40 years, no one has ever been turned away hungry. If that’s not a miracle, I don’t know what is!
The third act of holy communion is the breaking of the bread. This holy moment brings us directly into contact with the sacrificial love of Christ whose body was broken and blood was shed on the cross. The bread that has been formed of many grains of wheat and leavened by the yeast of the Spirit is torn apart so that all might receive the body of Christ, the bread of heaven. “We who are many are made one body, because we all share in the one bread.” The sharing of a common loaf, broken for all and reconstituted in each of us as Christ’s body remains the primary symbol of our inter-relatedness, our re-membering as individuals incorporated as One.
Finally, the bread is shared. It is food for all who wish to receive the presence of Christ. There are no distinctions, no divisions, no preferred treatment. At the feeding of the 5,000, no one is turned away. The bread and fish are passed around and multiplied over and over so that ultimately there are 12 full baskets left over. It is abundance, provision for all who are hungry. The feeding turns strangers into companions. Together we build a longer table where all are fed and welcome.
When this congregation considers its essential mission and purpose, we know that we are called to feed people in body, mind and spirit. When we are fed at this table, we are compelled to go out and feed others. We receive comfort so that we can comfort others. When we hear the good news of God’s love and forgiveness, we are able to love and forgive others.
As Andrew McGowan writes, “A celebration of the Eucharist that does not, prayerfully and practically, include enabling the community to meet the needs of the poor is not authentic to the meals that Jesus presents his friends and the crowds as signs of himself and his mission.”
There were more than 5,000 fed by Jesus with the loaves and fishes. With the addition of the women and children, the total was closer to 40,000. And 40,000 is just about the number of meals our Edible Hope Kitchen served this past year. More than just food, what people receive in our dining room is a community of care, companionship, acceptance and hope, edible hope. That we are able to do this every weekday for 40 years is nothing short of miraculous.
This is what happens when ordinary individuals are willing to give generously with sacrificial love for the neighbor (and not just the human neighbor). This is what ultimately stands up to all that will harm or destroy God’s beloved. Even when we encounter changes and losses, including the loss of this building during our time off site, we will be knit together and held in one Body, one community through the presence of Christ and the power of the Spirit. God will abundantly provide for our needs as God has done so throughout the history of God’s people. And God will empower us so that we may answer the command, “you give them something to eat.”
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