Isaiah 25:6-10
On this mountain the LORD Almighty will prepare
a feast of rich food for all peoples,
a banquet of aged wine—
the best of meats and the finest of wines.
On this mountain he will destroy
the shroud that enfolds all peoples,
the sheet that covers all nations;
he will swallow up death forever.
The Sovereign LORD will wipe away the tears
from all faces;
he will remove his people’s disgrace
from all the earth.
The LORD has spoken.
In that day they will say,
“Surely this is our God;
we trusted in him, and he saved us.
This is the LORD, we trusted in him;
let us rejoice and be glad in his salvation.”
The hand of the LORD will rest on this mountain;
but Moab will be trampled in their land
as straw is trampled down in the manure.
• The reign of God is often likened to a feast or a banquet where all peoples are fed, without entry requirements or conditions. In fact, all people are fed “rich food.” Reflect on your own experience of offering food to someone who is hungry.
• Consider your own experience of hunger. Can you remember a time when you went without food for an extended period of time? What was it like to have food before you at the end of that extended period of hunger? (Perhaps even a meager meal seemed like a feast!)
• Take a moment to reflect on your current relationship with food. How do you think of food? How do you use food?
• Obviously, hunger and feasting are actual states. But they are also important symbols in spiritual living. Take a moment to reflect on hunger and feasting as spiritual symbols. Perhaps find your own vocabulary for the two. Connect with what it means to be driven by hunger . . . and what it means to be satiated by feasting.
Showing posts with label hunger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hunger. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 4, 2019
Wednesday, December 5, 2018
First Wednesday of Advent - December 5, 2018
Having Enough
Isaiah 25:6-10
Matthew 15:29-37
Isaiah 25 offers the image of a feast of rich food for all peoples, a banquet of aged wine, as a symbol of the coming "day of the Lord" at a table where everyone eats together.
The age of God's reign is often imaged in scripture as a feast, as a banquet at which all are fed, regardless of social class, race, gender, nationality, sexual orientation, or political persuasion. Everyone gathers at the table for a banquet. The poor and the rich are seated at the same table for God's feast, the finest meats, the best wines, enough for everyone, a table of plenty.
Whenever the Church offers a Eucharistic meal, the very act of Communion from a "common" table, she provides a miniature sign of this all-encompassing feast foreshadowed in scripture.
In the Gospel for today, Matthew describes the feast a bit differently than Isaiah. The feast is not opulence, but rather is simple sustenance for people who are hungry and in danger of "collapsing on the way." (For another time, you might consider this text with eyes beyond the literal . . . what is the true food of God that feeds people, sustaining us so that we don't "collapse on the way"?)
Many people have gathered, hungry, and in gathering resources to feed north of 4,000 people, some loaves and a few fish have been shared. It is not much, but it is enough.
Indeed, there is enough food to feed everyone, the story goes on to demonstrate. But what I have in my possession must be shared, not hoarded, not used as an instrument of social control. The food and resources at my disposal are not to be used in a way that holds power over those who have not. The bread must be brought together and shared for the common good.
The wonder here is not only the miracle of Jesus somehow causing bread and fish to multiply. The miracle is also the wonder of human sharing . . . the miracle of what happens within people when they take their grip off the resources they hold, and make those resources available for the common good . . . when we all share together, refusing to hold onto what we have -- either to punish the other, or to control them by what we have and they have-not -- so that everyone has enough.
Everyone is fed. There is plenty to go around. There are baskets of leftovers.
Perhaps Matthew is answering Isaiah, saying in effect that the day of the Lord is here already, right now, when people share what they have so that everyone has enough. It is not a feast of opulence, but it is enough, plenty for hungry people.
For Reflection:
What do you hold in your hand? Take inventory of what you have, the resources at your disposal. Everyone has something to share . . . material goods . . . time . . . expertise in some area . . . a willing spirit . . . compassion. What do you have to share so that others have enough? And how might you share this week?
Isaiah 25:6-10
Matthew 15:29-37
Isaiah 25 offers the image of a feast of rich food for all peoples, a banquet of aged wine, as a symbol of the coming "day of the Lord" at a table where everyone eats together.
The age of God's reign is often imaged in scripture as a feast, as a banquet at which all are fed, regardless of social class, race, gender, nationality, sexual orientation, or political persuasion. Everyone gathers at the table for a banquet. The poor and the rich are seated at the same table for God's feast, the finest meats, the best wines, enough for everyone, a table of plenty.
Whenever the Church offers a Eucharistic meal, the very act of Communion from a "common" table, she provides a miniature sign of this all-encompassing feast foreshadowed in scripture.
In the Gospel for today, Matthew describes the feast a bit differently than Isaiah. The feast is not opulence, but rather is simple sustenance for people who are hungry and in danger of "collapsing on the way." (For another time, you might consider this text with eyes beyond the literal . . . what is the true food of God that feeds people, sustaining us so that we don't "collapse on the way"?)
Many people have gathered, hungry, and in gathering resources to feed north of 4,000 people, some loaves and a few fish have been shared. It is not much, but it is enough.
Indeed, there is enough food to feed everyone, the story goes on to demonstrate. But what I have in my possession must be shared, not hoarded, not used as an instrument of social control. The food and resources at my disposal are not to be used in a way that holds power over those who have not. The bread must be brought together and shared for the common good.
The wonder here is not only the miracle of Jesus somehow causing bread and fish to multiply. The miracle is also the wonder of human sharing . . . the miracle of what happens within people when they take their grip off the resources they hold, and make those resources available for the common good . . . when we all share together, refusing to hold onto what we have -- either to punish the other, or to control them by what we have and they have-not -- so that everyone has enough.
Everyone is fed. There is plenty to go around. There are baskets of leftovers.
Perhaps Matthew is answering Isaiah, saying in effect that the day of the Lord is here already, right now, when people share what they have so that everyone has enough. It is not a feast of opulence, but it is enough, plenty for hungry people.
For Reflection:
What do you hold in your hand? Take inventory of what you have, the resources at your disposal. Everyone has something to share . . . material goods . . . time . . . expertise in some area . . . a willing spirit . . . compassion. What do you have to share so that others have enough? And how might you share this week?
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
The First Wednesday of Advent -- December 1, 2010
Matthew 15:29 - 37
Jesus left there and went along the Sea of Galilee. Then he went up on a mountainside and sat down. Great crowds came to him, bringing the lame, the blind, the crippled, the mute and many others, and laid them at his feet; and he healed them. The people were amazed when they saw the mute speaking, the crippled made well, the lame walking and the blind seeing. And they praised the God of Israel.
Jesus called his disciples to him and said, “I have compassion for these people; they have already been with me three days and have nothing to eat. I do not want to send them away hungry, or they may collapse on the way.”
His disciples answered, “Where could we get enough bread in this remote place to feed such a crowd?”
“How many loaves do you have?” Jesus asked.
“Seven,” they replied, “and a few small fish.”
He told the crowd to sit down on the ground. Then he took the seven loaves and the fish, and when he had given thanks, he broke them and gave them to the disciples, and they in turn to the people. They all ate and were satisfied. Afterward the disciples picked up seven basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over.
Advent signals a coming or an arriving. It suggests a beginning. We who live after the fact recognize Jesus as the coming One, the arriving presence of God in our world. He fully lived into both humanity and divinity. He was fully who God created and intended him to be. Years of waiting found there fullness in him.
It was as if persons for centuries had lived in a state of famine with little nourishment. The arrival of Jesus, who embodied God's fullness, suggested a time of feasting.
You might read the text in any number of ways today. I want to suggest two approaches to this reading.
First, the Gospel reading in Matthew connects to the Old Testament reading from the prophet Isaiah. Isaiah is a popular prophet in the early days of Advent for reasons I briefly mentioned in a meditation earlier this week.
In Isaiah 25:6 - 10, the prophet looked to a day when God would provide a feast of plenty for the people of the world . . . the finest wines and most generous portions of food for all those who hunger . . . God swallowing up death and wiping tears from the faces of those who live in sadness and grief. Then this line:
"Lo, this is our God; we have waited for him, that he might save us. This is the Lord; we have waited for him; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation." (Is. 25:9)
Now, read today's Matthew 15:29 - 37 passage in the context of Isaiah 25. "We have waited . . . we have waited." Waited for a feast. Waited for God's salvation. Waited for the time of gladness and rejoicing in God's healing goodness. Then the advent: Jesus arrives! The blind see, the mute speak, the disabled walk, the broken are made whole (Mt. 15:30 - 31). Further, with echoes of Isaiah, Jesus noticed the famished throng, hungry and malnourished. He fed them with such an abundance that the leftovers could be used to feed many, many more (Mt. 15:36 - 37).
Jesus enacted Isaiah's prophecy. Was this the feast Isaiah foresaw? Was this what the people had waited for?
Jesus was fond of feeding people. Physical hunger did not go unnoticed with him. The eyes of his heart were attuned to human need. His inner being was shaped in compassion. Mercy was his DNA.
It is one thing -- and can be a good thing! -- to see human need and decide to move toward it in a healing way. It is another step, though, to have our hearts shaped over time until we move toward need naturally. The work of God's Spirit within us is the work of shaping our hearts so that over time we move organically toward the least, little and deprived without being prompted.
The first approach to today's text moves among the words at the level of actual human hunger and need.
Second, I want to offer a spiritual understanding of the Matthew 15 text -- one, perhaps, of many.
My thoughts center on Jesus' words in verse 32:
“I have compassion for these people; they have already been with me three days and have nothing to eat. I do not want to send them away hungry, or they may collapse on the way.”
The term "the Way" was an early designation for followers of Christ. It suggests journey and movement, indicating that our life connected to God is not static, but dynamic and full of movement.
So at one level, Jesus was concerned for the physical well-being of the people, concerned that they had food as they followed him from city to hillside to village to countryside . . . lest they faint on the way.
But at another level, a more symbolic level, Jesus was speaking of any who followed him, concerned that they not fall aside, that they not faint from malnourishment, that they have spiritual food to sustain them through all of life's celebration points and despairing ditches.
Often in the Gospels, food and hunger are spiritual symbols for the nourishment (or lack thereof) that feeds the inner person. Hunger suggests that a person is inwardly yearning, soul-hungry, desiring the sustenance that comes only from a life-giving connection with God. "Food" is the act of living one's life in a way that fills out the destiny God has ordained for a person. (Jesus "food" was to do the will of his Father.)
I find it assuring that Jesus recognizes when my inner resources are low, that in his "compassion on the people" he sees me running on empty, and thus provides life-giving, energy-giving resources lest I faint "on the way."
I'm very glad to be sustained -- even if by the leftovers from anothers feast -- in the journey I'm called to walk.
So today I look for the resources of Jesus on my journey. What is being given to me that will sustain my inner life? What will keep my upright on the path? What connects me to life? What sets me free to live a transformed life in order to be a transforming presence in the world? I will look for this food . . . notice it . . . and take it into myself.
If there are leftovers, I will share them with my neighbor.
Jesus left there and went along the Sea of Galilee. Then he went up on a mountainside and sat down. Great crowds came to him, bringing the lame, the blind, the crippled, the mute and many others, and laid them at his feet; and he healed them. The people were amazed when they saw the mute speaking, the crippled made well, the lame walking and the blind seeing. And they praised the God of Israel.
Jesus called his disciples to him and said, “I have compassion for these people; they have already been with me three days and have nothing to eat. I do not want to send them away hungry, or they may collapse on the way.”
His disciples answered, “Where could we get enough bread in this remote place to feed such a crowd?”
“How many loaves do you have?” Jesus asked.
“Seven,” they replied, “and a few small fish.”
He told the crowd to sit down on the ground. Then he took the seven loaves and the fish, and when he had given thanks, he broke them and gave them to the disciples, and they in turn to the people. They all ate and were satisfied. Afterward the disciples picked up seven basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over.
Advent signals a coming or an arriving. It suggests a beginning. We who live after the fact recognize Jesus as the coming One, the arriving presence of God in our world. He fully lived into both humanity and divinity. He was fully who God created and intended him to be. Years of waiting found there fullness in him.
It was as if persons for centuries had lived in a state of famine with little nourishment. The arrival of Jesus, who embodied God's fullness, suggested a time of feasting.
You might read the text in any number of ways today. I want to suggest two approaches to this reading.
First, the Gospel reading in Matthew connects to the Old Testament reading from the prophet Isaiah. Isaiah is a popular prophet in the early days of Advent for reasons I briefly mentioned in a meditation earlier this week.
In Isaiah 25:6 - 10, the prophet looked to a day when God would provide a feast of plenty for the people of the world . . . the finest wines and most generous portions of food for all those who hunger . . . God swallowing up death and wiping tears from the faces of those who live in sadness and grief. Then this line:
"Lo, this is our God; we have waited for him, that he might save us. This is the Lord; we have waited for him; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation." (Is. 25:9)
Now, read today's Matthew 15:29 - 37 passage in the context of Isaiah 25. "We have waited . . . we have waited." Waited for a feast. Waited for God's salvation. Waited for the time of gladness and rejoicing in God's healing goodness. Then the advent: Jesus arrives! The blind see, the mute speak, the disabled walk, the broken are made whole (Mt. 15:30 - 31). Further, with echoes of Isaiah, Jesus noticed the famished throng, hungry and malnourished. He fed them with such an abundance that the leftovers could be used to feed many, many more (Mt. 15:36 - 37).
Jesus enacted Isaiah's prophecy. Was this the feast Isaiah foresaw? Was this what the people had waited for?
Jesus was fond of feeding people. Physical hunger did not go unnoticed with him. The eyes of his heart were attuned to human need. His inner being was shaped in compassion. Mercy was his DNA.
It is one thing -- and can be a good thing! -- to see human need and decide to move toward it in a healing way. It is another step, though, to have our hearts shaped over time until we move toward need naturally. The work of God's Spirit within us is the work of shaping our hearts so that over time we move organically toward the least, little and deprived without being prompted.
The first approach to today's text moves among the words at the level of actual human hunger and need.
Second, I want to offer a spiritual understanding of the Matthew 15 text -- one, perhaps, of many.
My thoughts center on Jesus' words in verse 32:
“I have compassion for these people; they have already been with me three days and have nothing to eat. I do not want to send them away hungry, or they may collapse on the way.”
The term "the Way" was an early designation for followers of Christ. It suggests journey and movement, indicating that our life connected to God is not static, but dynamic and full of movement.
So at one level, Jesus was concerned for the physical well-being of the people, concerned that they had food as they followed him from city to hillside to village to countryside . . . lest they faint on the way.
But at another level, a more symbolic level, Jesus was speaking of any who followed him, concerned that they not fall aside, that they not faint from malnourishment, that they have spiritual food to sustain them through all of life's celebration points and despairing ditches.
Often in the Gospels, food and hunger are spiritual symbols for the nourishment (or lack thereof) that feeds the inner person. Hunger suggests that a person is inwardly yearning, soul-hungry, desiring the sustenance that comes only from a life-giving connection with God. "Food" is the act of living one's life in a way that fills out the destiny God has ordained for a person. (Jesus "food" was to do the will of his Father.)
I find it assuring that Jesus recognizes when my inner resources are low, that in his "compassion on the people" he sees me running on empty, and thus provides life-giving, energy-giving resources lest I faint "on the way."
I'm very glad to be sustained -- even if by the leftovers from anothers feast -- in the journey I'm called to walk.
So today I look for the resources of Jesus on my journey. What is being given to me that will sustain my inner life? What will keep my upright on the path? What connects me to life? What sets me free to live a transformed life in order to be a transforming presence in the world? I will look for this food . . . notice it . . . and take it into myself.
If there are leftovers, I will share them with my neighbor.
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