Where shall we buy bread…?

‘Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?’

These are the slightly surprising words of Jesus in this week’s Gospel reading: ‘Where are we to buy bread…’ and they are surprising on two counts:
1.    Because Jesus is God and therefore presumably knows everything (so it seems a bit odd at first glance to be asking a question he already know the answer to) and…
2.    Because we often imagine that Jesus must have had his mind on ‘higher things’ than feeling a little ‘rumbly in his tumbly’ (in the words of Whinnie the Pooh).

And this question can also seem a bit prosaic and mundane in the midst of all the Son of God business and questions about how to enter the Kingdom of Heaven…. Maybe even a bit too ‘human’ for us to think Jesus would be concerned with.

But he is concerned, because before him sit more than 5000 people (remember women and children literally didn’t count in most ancient literature), and they’ve come because they’re hungry for God, - they’re spiritually hungry for his teaching and to hear what he has to say. But their spiritual nourishment doesn’t negate their basic physical needs. They’ve been sat there listening to him for some time and they’re probably starting to lose a bit of concentration as their blood sugar levels are slowly depleted. 
We all know how difficult it is to try and give something your full attention when all you can think about is how long it is ‘til lunch.

So this rather practical, earthy question is on Jesus’ mind, not just for himself, but for his followers too: ‘Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?’

And as someone who has worked with charities and churches involved in poverty relief efforts both locally and internationally, most recently in our sister parish of Littlemore, this question is all too familiar to many, especially as the long summer holidays stretch ahead of parents without access to free school meals for their children:

‘Where am I to buy bread to eat?’ ‘How will I feed my family?’

That same question that is on the lips of Jesus, is on the lips of people right here, right now in Oxford. Maybe it’s on the lips of the person next to you… (would you know if it was?) or maybe it’s you who is wondering where your next meal will come from.

And unlike Jesus, you may not have the benefit of knowing the answer to that question already – but if we lived in a truly Christ-like world where the church and society are all doing their part then you should know the answer because you should be able to have confidence that God will provide. And if you find yourself in a situation where you don’t have that confidence, then let’s be clear, it is us as a nation who are failing, not you.

Jesus gets the human need for food and basic provision and he knows what he’s going to do for the hungry crowd already, but he’s asking this question to test the disciples.
So he turns to his closest followers, to Andrew and Philip and asks them what they’re going to do about it.

Because Jesus knows only too well that the question is not literally ‘where will we get bread from?’- it’s not a question about where the nearest local supermarket is - and so answering it with ‘pop to Tesco’ isn’t going to help – they’re up a mountain afterall.

I think what he’s really saying is: ‘I’ll do my bit and work the miracle, but where are you going to gather the resources from to bring to me use?’

Jesus knows the answer is that there is enough out there already among them, because God provides a world of abundance with enough for all his children, but the disciples need to go and find out where it is and bring it back to Jesus in the faith that he will make it go round.

As a human race, we still treat this world as if we own it – sometimes even as if we’ve earned it, and those who are high in wealth and power but low in conscientiousness so often act as though they are entitled to control and hoard its resources. They get to choose who has access to provision and who is denied, whether things are shared out or kept under lock and key.

But as Christians we know that everything we have on this earth is actually gift. It’s not our world, it doesn’t belong to us and we have no right to prevent another person from living a full and happy life because we happen to have been born on one particularly fruitful patch, or into one family/society rather than another.

So the disciples put their thinking caps on and go into the crowd and find someone who sees the world differently. Who realises that what he has is not for hoarding or his own gain but can be used to meet the needs of others.

It’s the most wonderfully subversive offering (that would shame anyone else quietly harbouring a packed lunch of their own) through his astonishing faith and generosity.
The disciples spot a young boy who brings his lunch to Jesus and says:

‘Here, it’s not much but use this’.

When we treat the resources we have on this earth as though they are God’s, not our own, and we bring them back to him…look how he transforms them. Look what he does with the gifts of bread and wine we bring to offer back to God on the communion table….

All that we need for everyone to have enough is out there already, but God needs the church’s help to gather it and bring it before him to be transformed and shared out according to his will, not society’s greed.

This is the work of those who quietly go about preparing sandwiches for the Gatehouse, who faithfully take donations to the Food Bank, who generously offer time to volunteer with food support projects in our own city and give energy, expertise, and funds to help them flourish.

Like Andrew and Philip, we the church, can be part of the answer to the question on many people’s lips as they face a long summer holiday with little in the cupboard: where can we find bread? Where can I find food this summer?

We may be like the boy with just his five loaves and two fish thinking we don’t have much, but I bet that working together, we can still find enough in our community to go round. 
Afterall it is Jesus who works the miracle… all we need to do is bring the bread.

Amen.