Sermons

Little Miracles

Preached by Ricardo Avila on (Sunday, July 23, 2006)

From today's gospel: "When it grew late, his disciples came to him and said, 'this is a deserted place, and the hour is now very late; send them away so that they may go into the surrounding country and villages, and buy something for themselves to eat.' But [Jesus] answered them, 'you give them something to eat.'" (Mark 6:35)

Four years ago, I went back to Wisconsin for my Mother's 70th birthday. She's a very religious woman…who basically prays all day long . One of the prayers I got to hear while I was there was the one she always says before eating. I actually kind of liked it, even though it took her about two minutes to say every time. And so I decided to memorize it, thinking I could have that little reminder of her when I prayed before my meals.

The prayer's in Spanish, and my favorite part goes like this: "Señor, el que no tenga de comer, dale un pan para comer, y el que no te conozca, dale hambre de ti." In English, it's "Lord, whoever has nothing to eat, give them bread to eat; and whoever does not know you, give them a hunger for you."

So I began to say her prayer before every meal when I returned to San Francisco. This turned out to be a big mistake. Because, with a mound of Max's Carolina BBQ Pulled Pork in front of me, I'd pray to God to feed the hungry. And before diving into an Orphan Andy's meatloaf dinner, with mashed potatoes, gravy, vegetable, salad, biscuit with honey, and strawberry shake, I'd say "Lord, whoever has nothing to eat, give them bread to eat." I would solemnly intone, "God, don't let them go hungry"…and then polish off this Bento Box, ora banana boat sundae from Mitchell's, or two jelly doughnuts. As the dissonance between her prayer and my actions grew louder, it wasn't long before my Mother's words began catching in my throat. Just like my Mother, this prayer was giving me a guilt trip.

The problem with praying for something over and over is that, eventually, it seeps into your consciousness. For me, it soon became impossible to ignore the fact that I kept asking God to feed the hungry…while I myself did nothing but pig out. So, what had begun as a sweet prayer from my Mother had turned into a daily admonition, until I felt like a hypocrite, and until I could almost hear God saying, "What, you expect me to reach down with a tray of hors d'eouvres for the homeless? YOU GIVE THEM SOMETHING TO EAT."

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Like the disciples in the gospel reading – who, by the way, were pretty thoughtful when they tried to disperse the crowd before it got dark, so they could get home safely to buy food to eat – like them , we can't really take on the responsibility of caring for the nameless thousands. Jesus' idea of feeding 5,000 was so unrealistic, and utterly unreasonable, that the disciples were right to complain about how much that meal would cost. Like them , we might prefer to see those in need take care of themselves, or to let them go somewhere else to get their sustenance. Which is perfectly, utterly reasonable.

But then, Jesus in the gospel reading does his #1 favorite thing: he goes against the world's sense of reason and tells his disciples… and us , "you give them something to eat." And then, he does his second-most favorite thing: he performs a miracle…to show us that it can be done, provided that we have enough faith.

But it's unfair of Jesus to expect us to perform miracles! 'Cause, we're not God! This set-up happens other times in the Gospel readings, like when he tells his disciples, "if you have enough faith, you can tell this mountain to move over there and it will move." But: we're not God.

And yet…what if we are God? What if that whole business of God existing in each one of us is somehow true? That universal consciousness, that energy which connects us, that God we worship… in us ? Wouldn't we then be able to perform miracles? Couldn't we then do the impossible and care for those among us in need?

I say yes. And as your Pollyanna Preacher for the day I will say to you that we are, each of us, able to perform at least a little miracle, because we all carry that spark of God in us, ready to ignite.

Take me, for example. Once I realized that my Mother's prayer wasn't going to leave me in peace, I decided I had to do something about it. So, after calculating that it cost almost $20 to have one meatloaf dinner at Orphan Andy's (including tax and tip), I joined the Meal-a-Month program at the San Francisco Food Bank, and I asked them to deduct that $20 from my checking account each month. What's amazing about the Food Bank is, they took my $20 meal and transformed it into $180 worth of groceries for others. But the real miracle of my story is that, once I joined this program, my bank started making those payments without ever debiting my checking account…for two whole years! I did call the bank repeatedly to try and fix it, but they insisted that their records showed no withdrawals being made. Meanwhile, the Food Bank assured me they were getting my money. For a bank to mistakenly donate $480 to a charity? That's at least a little miracle.

I would also argue that disasters like Hurricane Katrina ignite God's compassion in us. People chartered boats, planes, and buses, and took them down to New Orleans, risking their lives to save complete strangers. We could simply call this "wanting to do good, wanting to help." Which it is. But I also believe that, if God is anywhere in this world, it's in that instinct for helping others which we carry in our hearts.

Finally, I believe we honor that sacredness in others when we do things like sponsoring them in their charitable endeavors. We encourage the miraculous in them. At the law firm where I work, people are constantly asking for donations, and usually receiving more than they expect. Last year, I collected $1500 dollars in two days for the Episcopal Charities Walk-a-thon, and some of that money even came from atheists!

This may be obvious, but the miracle in us manifests only when we accept some responsibility for others. I know it's hard to answer that call to "give them something to eat." It's a struggle to step outside of our comfort zone for long enough to spark our little miracle. And with our world in such a horrible state, pessimism is so much easier. But still, God pesters us to care.

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So: visit your fellow parishioner at Laguna Honda Hospice. Volunteer at a soup kitchen, or make a donation to the St. James Infirmary. Drop a sandwich on the filthy blanket of a person at Van Ness and Market. And sponsor anyone you can. Knit tighter these bonds of care and community whenever you're able, so that others may see it and hunger for them. You don't have to be the Church Pastor to give pastoral care. You just have to care.

Because, in the midst of all the changes in our beloved Episcopal Church, with our newly-installed bishop, our new presiding bishop, and the storms breaking over the Anglican Communion, one thing remains constant: God's changeless love…made manifest in us…through our care for one another and for our communities.

Whoever has nothing to eat, give them bread to eat; and whoever does not know God, let God shine through your actions so that they may see God in you and hunger for that presence in their lives.

"You give them something to eat." It's not a command. It's an invitation.