Gospel 6:25-35

The people ask of Jesus,

What must we do to perform the good works of God?

What signs will you give us to confirm that we are on the right path?

Deepening questions from the followers of Jesus.  The feeding of the thousands where leftovers turned into abundance was obvious. A crowd. No physical hunger. A moment that connected the heart strings of many with a glimpse of the foretaste of the feast to come.

After, the disciples get into the boat to cross the sea.

At the same time, when Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.

The Gospel says that the next day, the crowds are looking for Jesus and the disciples. They are searching for him and the food that he gives.

For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.  

Throughout the valley, rising to the hilltops around the sea of Galilee and beyond,  Jesus’ word sings to the souls of the hungry.

Whoever comes to me will never be hungry. I am the bread of life.

There’s a quiet valley in northern Italy called the Val di Fiemme  (vahl dee fyem-eh) — the “Valley of Music.” For generations, this place has been known for its spruce trees, which grow slowly in the cold mountain air. Their wood has a perfect, even grain that seems to hold music inside it. People call the spruce “the singing trees.”

Stradivari, the great violin maker, used this wood to craft his most beautiful instruments. 

A  fierce storm swept through that valley a few years ago, and hundreds of these ancient trees fell to the ground. People wept. They thought the song of the valley had been silenced forever.

But when a violin maker walked among the fallen trunks, he tapped one gently — and it sang. Even in its brokenness, the tree still carried the resonance of life, the echo of the song that reverbs throughout creation.

The broken spruce were gathered up and turned into instruments that now make music all around the world.

The song that began in one quiet valley now fills the air again. A beautiful sound, rises out of a valley to fill the land. The sound carries the melody - death and new life.

The song of God’s faithfulness rises, again and again — even out of the valleys.

Throughout the valley, rising to the hilltops and beyond,  Jesus’ word sing to the souls of the hungry.

The Noise of the World

We need to hear this melody and eat of this bread of life because the noise of the world can be deafening. A cacophonous mixture of dissonant harmonies and sounds. 

The negative can stick like velcro while the positive slides off like teflon.  

Sometimes we have to rip off those velcro receptors and use something less slick than teflon.

Perhaps we ask deepening questions like the first century followers of Jesus.

What must we do to perform the good works of God?

What signs will you give us to confirm that we are on the right path?

Purposeful frustration is a term I recently heard. In the process of change, we purposefully seek something new / different / a transformation.  Change is frustrating at times. But we choose to set out into this valley of change.  The frustrations we encounter during this change are purposeful, and for this reason we can more easily embrace the change that is upon us.  It’s purposeful because we are on a path. We are walking in a direction even if we don’t know what it will fully look like. Trusting that God walks before us, with us and even behind to nudge us along.

Jesus’ Word sings to the souls of the hungry,

with a gratitude that rises above the noise and discombobulation of the world. 

Here at St. Matthews and The St. Matthews Centre as we set forth on a purposeful path it’s inevitable that frustrations will arise.  The coffee pots might be sticky (definitely annoying!), the Sunday school materials might be missing or have to be moved yet again, the garden is not tended, sometimes there aren’t parking spot, communication is a challenge because there are many layers, and planning events takes longer.  We’ve all experienced some frustrations. But…

Let’s not let these inconveniences stick like velcro. 

Instead, we can hear Jesus’ Word singing to the souls of the hungry,

with a gratitude that rises above the noise of the world in a place where people gather and grow in understanding of God, self and each other. 

I’d like to take a minute to speak of  how Jesus’ word sings to the souls of the hungry through what’s happening here in this place. 

The St. Matthews Centre is a hub of diversity. 

Worshipping here at 54 Benton there are a few churches. 

-  A Hindi Service in Malayalam and English.

-  A Caribbean and Nigerian congregation

-  Catholics with origins in the Malabar region of India (Syrian Christians of the Malabar Coast) 

- Free Methodist Church plant 

- Just recently a Buddhist Group started using space.

-   And of course, a congregation grounded in the Lutheran tradition.  St. Matthews 

A variety of music echos from these walls …. classical concerts, choirs, children’s choir and yoga with live music in the sanctuary, country, jazz, music based Brazilian Martial Arts, there was also a loud rock fest, in addition to our own choir and bell choir, as well as beautiful congregational singing. 

There is music eduction for people who can afford to pay and for those who need financial assistance. Instruments and instruction are provided.

Children gather for summer camps - STEM, Hindi, Christian Camps.

Supports for the community in this building focusing on cancer support, addiction support, housing and food insecurity as well as our own ministry of Out of the Cold.

Why is this diversity important? 

How is it relevant to the path we are on as a church?

For one, we are changing perceptions of what it means to be welcoming ELCIC Lutherans. (We don’t want to get into a theological debate. History has had enough of those.)  But we do want to provide the most hospitable welcome. In so doing, we are sticking to our values of inclusion, hospitality and welcome, and an openness to each other that is deeply rooted in scripture, faith and prayer.

While we still have much room to work into deepening relationships with our space sharers, the first barrier being removed is the barriers that prevent people from entering these doors.

Perhaps in time we won’t be ships in the night but friends on the journey.

All of this diversity is gathering in a building with stories of Jesus on stained glass and painted onto the ceiling and walls. 

Scripture, song, prayers, fellowship -  have inhabited these walls since the shovel was put into the ground over a century ago. A space that for generations joined God’s song. And now the communion of Saints joins our song. 

It’s easy to focus on what’s wrong but there are no medals or badges or gold stars given out for that. We’re called to do the more difficult work. 

Instead we can take off the velcro to focus our attention on the goodness of the Lord that is present.  

Can you notice the glimmer? 

Others are noticing.

Paul calls believers to live in joy and with thanksgiving. 

“The Lord is near”: yes, here among us, in this very community of faith.

Throughout the valley, rising to the hilltops and beyond,  

Jesus’ word sings to the souls of the hungry.

I am the bread of life. Come to me and never be hungry.

Thanks be to God.