Have you noticed that you can return to some children’s
books that you read first as a child when you are adult and find in them riches
you had never dreamt of.
I re-read Peter Pan recently and was amazed at how dark it
was, how rich it was. When I re-read the
Wind in the Willows I was amazed to find how moving the encounter with the god
of the animals’ world was in the wild wood – very moving to read at Christmas
time. I love the playfulness of Alice in Wonderland that
I never fully appreciated as a child. I
was enthralled by Emil and the Detectives, read to us with enthusiasm by a
teacher at school and by parents at home.
It was great returning to that after visiting Berlin and to discover the riches in that
novel too.
Then there are adult books that can be adapted for
children. Many who are around about my
age had a unique treat as children. I
would have been 6 or 7 when we had our first TV set. I remember on Saturday evenings the start of
Dr Who and before that the equally scary serial stories of Garry Haliday and
the Voice. And on Sunday evenings in the
same ‘children’s hour’ time slot ‘the classic serial’. Initially done live, and then in low budget
studio productions the BBC serialised all the great classic novels. To this day I find it hard to remember
whether I have read a particular novel by Dickens or whether I have seen it on
TV. Now those classic serialisations are
done in massively expensive lavish productions once or twice a year. Through the late 50’s and 60’s they were done
practically every week. The routine in
our house was to watch the 5-30 episode and then go to church. It meant I grew up with children’s
adaptations of the great classics.
When I have returned to them later on I have been taken
aback to discover the dark side, the disturbing side and the extent to which
these novels I was introduced to as if they were children’s stories are
actually adult stories that are very powerful.
It is very easy to imagine that the great Bible stories fall
into the first of those categories – we are introduced to them as children, we
tell them to children as children’s stories and they are wonderful. We imagine they were told for children.
Actually they were told for adults and we have down through
the years adapted them for children and made them into children’s stories. That’s
a wonderful thing to do – just as it was wonderful for my generation to
be introduced to the great classics of English literature in that way.
We can choose whether or not we return to the stories we
were introduced to as a child. We would
do well to choose to return to the Bible stories we were introduced to as
children and read them through the eyes of an adult.
That’s exactly what I want to do with the story of the
feeding of the 5000, brilliantly re-told by Bob Hartman in his story tellers
Bible, brought to life by countless Open the Book groups in schools up and down
the country, not least in Oakwood school by our Open the Book group.
It’s the one story from the ministry of Jesus that occurs in
all four Gospels. There are only half a
dozen or so other incidents in the life and ministry of Jesus recorded in John
‘s Gospel and none of them occur in all three of the other gospels.
Immediately, it makes you think there’s something special
about the feeding of the 5000. For John
it’s a foretaste of the bread we break in communion, for what we celebrate in
communion For Luke it is the link
between the commissioning of the 12 and Peter’s confession of faith in Jesus as
Messiah. For Mark it is part of that
journeying from the Jewish side of the sea of Galilee to the Gentiles side.
In Matthew’s gospel there is a darkness to the story that’s
easy to miss.
The centre point of Matthew’s Gospel is in chapter 13 when
Jesus teaches at length about the very kingdom of God John the Baptist had come to
proclaim, that Jesus had proclaimed – that entirely new way of looking at the
world. Matthew 13 is a chapter of
parables – the wonderful parables of the kingdom, how from tiny seeds, the
littlest of yeast, the great kingdom of heaven comes.
In focusing on this way on what shape God’s rule takes when
it comes on earth, Jesus sees himself very much as a prophet.
Once he has finished saying all those parables he moves on
and comes to Nazareth
where in his own home town he is rejected.
Jesus saw himself as a Prophet, in the line of those great prophets of
the Old Testament from Elijah and Elisha right the way through to John the
Baptist. “Prophets are not without
honour,” he said, “except in their own country and in their own house.” It is because of the unbelief of the people
that in Nazareth he did not do many of those deeds of power that were
associated with that great line of Prophets.
Then as Matthew 14 opens we return once again to the story
of John the Baptist. I don’t think I had
realised how prominent a part John the Baptist plays in Matthew’s gospel – it
is as if Jesus’ ministry is played with the figure of John the Baptist in the
shadows.
At that time Herod the
ruler heard reports about Jesus; 2and he said to his servants, ‘This is John
the Baptist; he has been raised from the dead, and for this reason these powers
are at work in him.’
This is the Herod who was the son of Herod the Great, who
was later to play a key role in the trial and execution of Jesus. At the death of Herod the Great he had been
made ruler over the territory to the West of the Sea of
Galilee – one quarter of the old kingdom. As part of that Herodian dynasty he had
bought into the whole Roman way of doing kingdom – it was a brutal, harsh,
lavish, extravagent way of life that he had sought to impose on Galilee by
building two great Roman cities one the re-building of the sity of Sepphoris
less than five miles from Nazareth, and the other a brand new Roman city
complete with great shopping arcade, theatre and a very lavish life-style on
the shores of the Sea of Galilee – a city he called Tiberias after the name of
the emperor who reigned during the life and ministry of Jesus.
It is a moment of raw emotion for Herod. He had been incensed at the way John the
Baptist had attacked his Herodian regime, not least his own personal marital
arrangements, and he had had John imprisoned.
For Herod had arrested
John, bound him, and put him in prison on account of Herodias, his brother
Philip’s wife, 4because John had been telling him, ‘It is not lawful for you to
have her.’ 5Though Herod wanted to put him to death, he feared the crowd,
because they regarded him as a prophet.
This verse is a moment of sheer terror for Herod – he
recognises in Jesus a John the Baptist come to life. He had imagined he had silenced the prophetic
voice of John only to find it had come so much more alive in Jesus. This whole new way of thinking, this whole
new way of looking at the world, this kingdom of heaven Jesus was preaching,
turned upside down the worldly kingdom
of Roman values that
Herod and the Herodians were crafting.
The terror was all the stronger because Herod felt he had
had been trapped into having John the Baptist executed.
I used to revel in telling this story to children … I have
found it very much more difficult since realising that this kind of execution
still goes on.
In the story that Matthew records in detail here we have a
glimpse of the Roman way of life with its banqueting and its excess. Also a glimpse of the Roman callous disregard
of human life – one of the few civilisations to have sports that involve the
killing of people.
6But when Herod’s
birthday came, the daughter of Herodias danced before the company, and she
pleased Herod 7so much that he promised on oath to grant her whatever she might
ask. 8Prompted by her mother, she said, ‘Give me the head of John the Baptist
here on a platter.’ 9The king was grieved, yet out of regard for his oaths and
for the guests, he commanded it to be given; 10he sent and had John beheaded in
the prison. 11The head was brought on a platter and given to the girl, who
brought it to her mother.
We sanitise this story when we tell it to children. It is horrific.
The disciples who in chapter 11 had come from the imprisoned
John asking whether Jesus was the one
John had been looking for now have a grim task to undertake.
12His disciples came
and took the body and buried it;
Who could they turn to?
They knew exactly who they could turn to.
12His disciples came
and took the body and buried it; then they went and told Jesus.
So, what does Jesus do.
And it is at this point that we arrive at the story of the
Feeding of the Five Thousand. And we
find Jesus in the depths of a very real grief that overwhelms.
Now when Jesus heard
this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself.
In the solitude he discovers the solace of prayer and of
peace.
But Jesus is not able to remain alone or in peace.
But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from
the towns.
14When he went ashore,
he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them and cured their sick.
15When it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, ‘This is a deserted
place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into
the villages and buy food for themselves.’
What Jesus models for this crowd is the exact opposite of
the banquet.
It’s a massive contrast.
Whereas the Roman feasting of a birthday celebration results in
death. The feasting from five loaves and
two fish results in life.
And all ate and were satisfied.
It is a wonderful conclusion.
It offers us an alternative lifestyle – this is the
lifestyle of the kingdom.
Note the numbers …
And those who ate were
about five thousand men, besides women and children
Why is the counting of the men significant?
Think what’s happened.
The prophetic voice of John has been silenced.
Is it a nice group of people out for a picnic as we tell the
story to the children. Or is it possibly
an angry crowd, shocked at what has become of the prophetic voice of John.
Turn to John’s gospel and he leaves you in no doubt …
This is a crowd of men who have come together to hail Jesus
as their King and take the Herodian dynasty by force of arms …
It is at this moment in John’s telling of the story (John
6:15) that Jesus realises what this crowd of men want to do …
When Jesus realised
that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he
withdrew again to the mountain by himself.
The kingdom of heaven Jesus has come to proclaim is not
built on the lavish excesses of the Roman lifestyle – it is not to be achieved
by force of arms – it hungers and thirsts after righteousness, involves love
for God, love for neighbour and love for enemy too, and it celebrates the
peacemaker. It may have tiny beginnings
in the mustard seed, the yeast, or the five loaves and two fish – but it is the
way to follow.
So what does Jesus do?
Back to Matthew 14:22
Immediately he made
the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he
dismissed the crowds. 23And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the
mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone,
There is personal tragedy going on in this story that means
Jesus has to seek the solitude of prayer and the solace it gives.
There is also the tragedy of political turmoil as people
struggle to make sense of a wild world that seems to be engulfed by political
storms.
There is a remarkable, a disturbing, significance in what
then happens.
A real storm had swept down the rift valley of the Jordan
and had whipped up the usually tranquil sea of Galilee into a frenzy …
but by this time the
boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against
them.
But Jesus is there with them in the midst of the storm – the
real storm they experience on the sea of Galilee, he is in the midst of
whatever storm threatens to engulf them in personal tragedy, in political
tragedy too –
They cannot believe their eyes as they see his presence
approaching them … they were terrified!
It’s a ghost! And they cried out
in fear.
Then comes that wonderful moment …
Immediately … there and then … at precisely the moment at
which they are filled with terror and sense they will be totally overwhelmed
they hear the voice of Jesus …
“Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”
This whole chapter took on new meaning for me when it was
read as a lectionary reading for the day when we touched the conflicts in
Palestine and Israel at their most raw – when we had encountered the tensions
between Jewish settlers and Palestinians and the work of Christian Peacemakers
in the West Bank city of Hebron.
Those are the words to take with whatever the uncertain
times we feel we face, be it in times of personal tragedy, or when we despair
at the state of the world. It is the
presence of Jesus with us in the storm and his word for our heart that speaks
into our fears …
Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid!
Take heart,
it is I; do not be afraid
When Jesus heard news
he could not bear
He sought solitude
And turned to prayer.
In the stillness of this place
We turn once more to you
Lord, hear our prayer.
When Jesus saw fear
in the faces of his friends
He came alongside them
and spoke words of peace
and words of calm
In moments of fear,
may we know your presence
and hear those words of peace
Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.