He was a missionary.
I know nothing about him but for one incredible sentence he wrote.
“God appears to a hungry person,” he wrote, “in the form of a loaf of bread.”
Remember those words.
Write them on your hearts.
“God appears to a hungry person in the form of a loaf of bread.”
In hearing those words, I am reminded of other words.
Jesus was preaching to a large crowd of people
and because of the lateness of the day
it was evident they were hungry.
So with five loaves of bread and two fish which a boy gave
the crowd of 5,000 was fed.
Some say it was a miracle:
that from the little that was given
God multiplied it into much.
Others say it was a miracle:
that from the little that was given
others shared what they had
and generosity multiplied it into much.
It was after the resurrection,
and a living and risen Lord
appeared to his disciples at the seaside.
And to Peter, who had denied him three times before his death,
Jesus said, “Peter, do you love me?”
And three times Peter answered, “Lord, you know I love you.”
And after the third time of asking and answering
Jesus said, “Feed my sheep.”
There are some who say that Jesus was asking Peter
to tell everyone who would ever cross his way about him,
about “the Bread of Life” which he was,
about his saving grace,
about his message of God’s love for them ...
about his message of loving others in such a way
that their worlds are changed.
And there are some who say that Jesus was asking Peter
to be the presence of God
to everyone who would ever cross his way,
by feeding them, and helping them, and welcoming them,
by meeting the need they had with his loving kindness.
And the night before he died,
as he sat at the table with his disciples
Jesus took bread, gave thanks, broke it,
and as he gave it to them said:
“This is my body broken for you; do this in remembrance of me.”
And in the same way he took the cup and said to them:
“This cup is the new covenant in my blood which is poured out for you.”
It is in the breaking of bread that we are called to remember him.
And I come back to the words:
“God appears to a hungry person in the form of a loaf of bread.”
In heard this story in a conversation on CBC radio the other day.
There was a little boy living in Kenya.
Hungry ... for food.
Hungry ... for knowledge.
And a woman from Switzerland, a single woman, a teacher, in her mid-forties,
through an international aid agency, became his sponsor
with a little bit of money every month. Every month for years.
The boy grew up ... having been fed and still hungry for knowledge.
His hunger brought him to the United States
where he attended and graduated from Harvard University.
He found work with the United Nations
as an investigator into international genocide,
as one who sought to bring to an end “man’s inhumanity to man.”
And as a way of paying forward the help he had received as a boy,
he established a foundation in his native Kenya
providing educational opportunities for aspiring students
and he named the foundation in honour of the woman who,
month by month, with her little cheques, supported him.
And then he sought her out ...
made contact with her ...
made arrangements to meet her ...
and in doing so they have established a wonderful, loving friendship.
He learned that her family had died in the genocide of World War II
and that she escaped the holocaust and was able to find refuge in Switzerland.
And here he was, without knowing it,
honouring her by working today to bring such horrors to an end.
“God appears to a hungry person in the form of a loaf of bread.”
God appeared to a little boy in the form of a woman who in her kindly giving
gave him a chance ...
gave him, not a hand out but a hand up.
And God appeared to a woman, almost 90 years old,
in the form of a little boy, now quite grown up,
who out of a grateful heart, has claimed her as his own.
Both have been abundantly fed.
I attended a funeral in Orillia the other day
for a man, two months younger than I, who died of cancer.
I didn’t know him well.
Hardly at all, really.
He was a student at Emmanuel College when I was there
but he was in the year ahead of me.
Our paths crossed little then.
But I attended his funeral because of a moment that happened sixty years ago.
After the service I sought out his older brother who had spoken at the service.
And as I approached and extended my hand to him, expressing my sympathies,
I said he probably wouldn’t know who I was.
I told him my name and he remembered the Posno name from his London days.
His late father, The Rev. Fred Joblin, had been the minister of Wesley United Church,
our family church in London.
The sixty years ago moment took place the night our father left our family.
I was five at the time, and some moments are never forgotten.
The four of us kids were in our rooms, wondering what was happening.
There had been raised voices.
There had been crying
And then our father came upstairs to our rooms.
I don’t remember what was said.
I don’t really remember how I felt.
I just remember it being the end of something.
We were given a kiss goodbye, and our father was gone.
We didn’t leave our rooms.
But I did hear Mom making a phone call.
And within minutes he was there:
The Rev. Fred Joblin, the minister of our church.
I know he was there for a long time.
I could hear muted voices from downstairs as we lay in our beds.
I could hear our Mother crying.
Mom was up later to check on us, to assure us that everything would be okay.
“God appears to a hungry person in the form of a loaf of bread.”
My Mother was hungry that night.
Hungry for a comforting, hopeful word.
Hungry for the reminder that with God’s help she, we, would get through this.
Hungry for the assurance that she was not alone in this.
God appeared to her in the form of Fred Joblin
who in kindness had responded to her call ...
who in loving faith offered her that comforting, hopeful word ...
who with sympathy assured her that she would not have to deal with this alone.
And at the funeral the other day, with tears, sixty years later,
I thanked the son of my former minister
for the kindness his father had shown our Mother that night
and no doubt, many times after that.
Next Saturday we will be welcoming into our church
many people who are walking a difficult road.
We are opening our doors to an event called “The Great Give Away.”
Throughout the afternoon we will have a “Clothing Depot”
where winter clothing will be given away.
And in the evening a “Thanksgiving Dinner”
for those in our community wishing to join us for a meal.
There are countless ways in which you can take part
that are listed in the bulletin insert.
Why would we do such a thing?
Why should we do such a thing?
I am reminded of other words.
In a story Jesus told, he said,
“I was hungry and you gave me something to eat.
I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink.
I was naked and you gave me something to wear.
I was a stranger and you welcomed me in.”
And the people asked,
“When did we ever see you like this?
And when did we feed and clothe and welcome you?
And he answered,
“Whenever you did any of these things for my people
it was as though you were doing it for me.
It was me in the stranger’s guise.”
It is true that
“We cannot do everything.
But we can do something.
And because we cannot do everything
we must not refuse to do the something we can do.”
In a moment we will remember Jesus in the breaking of bread.
Let us also remember that we are called to remember him
in our loving kindness to others ...
in ways that have the power to transform lives ...
in ways that bring the presence of God into hurting situations ...
in ways that meet the most basic needs of providing food and clothing
for those who find themselves at a difficult place.
And we do it because Jesus, “the Bread of Life,”
calls us, as he called Peter, to “feed his sheep.”
This is perhaps the best way of remembering him today.
God appears in countless ways.
For someone, somewhere, God is ready to appear through you.
SOLI DEO GLORIA To God Alone The Glory
