We often can’t help but worry “Will there be enough?” but Jesus is enough, and all we need to do is trust that enough is enough.
Vicar Lauren Mildahl
The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 18 B
Texts: Exodus 16:2-4, 9-15; Psalm 78:23-29; Ephesians 4:1-16; John 6:16-35
Beloved friends, grace to you and peace in the name of the Father, and of the ☩ Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Now what?
We’re standing in the wilderness. Just weeks ago, God did something amazing! God freed us from slavery in Egypt! God sent the plagues and parted the water and made the bitter water sweet and just days ago we were singing and laughing.
And now it’s today. And we’re hungry and tired and still have a long way to go. Maybe it would be better if we had just died.
Now what?
We’re standing on the shore of Galilee. Just yesterday, God did something amazing! God fed us! Five thousand people, out of just five small loaves and two fish. Jesus turned the smallest of gifts into the greatest of blessings. And then, miraculously, crossed the sea without a boat.
And now it’s today. And we’re hungry again and Jesus is nowhere to be seen.
Now what?
We’re sitting in our pews. Just last Sunday, God did something amazing! And we ate our fill and we sang. I mean, we usually sing, but last week, we sang. As if we really wanted to make sure that Bach and Schutz and Handel heard us. As if we really wanted to make sure that David heard us. And the Spirit showed up and last week we were fed and filled.
And now it’s today. And we’re hungry again. And maybe, just a tiny bit, worried.
Now what?
And sure the Holy Spirit showed up last week, and sure Jesus promised that if we trust we’ll never be hungry, and sure God is able to accomplish more, far more, abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine…
But will that be enough?
It’s amazing how quickly that question comes to us. Amazing how quickly that full, fed feeling begins to slip away. Emptiness starts to creep in. And the hunger returns. It doesn’t matter how amazingly God has shown up or how recently–weeks ago, last Sunday, yesterday–it doesn’t take long and we’re looking around thinking “Now what?” Sure there was enough yesterday. There might even be enough today. But what about tomorrow? Will there be enough?
Enough food? Enough money? Enough time? Enough talent?
Will there be enough health? Enough work? Enough rain? Enough votes?
Will there be enough leaders? Enough friends? Enough music? Enough church?
Will we be enough? Will I be enough? The fear sets in. And the hunger.
That feeling of lack – of craving…something. That feeling that prompted the crowd to jump in the boats and go looking for Jesus across the Sea. To ask with desperation when they had found him: “What must we do to perform the works of God?”
There must be something we can do – something we maybe should have already done. Because we are afraid and hungry, but maybe, maybe if we just try harder, be better, do more? Maybe if we work a little bit harder, stockpile a little bit more, then there would be enough. Maybe then, we wouldn’t be hungry.
“What must we do?” the crowd asked, “to perform the works of God?”
And Jesus’s answer? Trust.
That’s it. “This is the work of God, that you trust in the one whom God has sent.”
You don’t have to do anything. It’s not about what you do, it never was.
“I am enough,” Jesus is saying. And enough is enough.
So, trust. Trust that I know what you need, and I’ll give it.
Trust that my grace is sufficient for you.
Trust that there really is enough.
And that enough is enough. For today. Enough really is enough.
This is the lesson that God has been trying to teach us since the manna in the wilderness. “I am going to rain bread from heaven for you, and each day the people shall go out and gather enough for that day.” “So,” the Psalmist picks up the story, “mortals ate the bread of angels; God provided for them food enough.” God, who is above all and through all and in all, who came as Christ to fill all things, gave them enough to fill them. And enough is enough. “So the people ate,” the Psalmist sings, “and were well filled, for God gave them what they craved.”
So why is it so hard to trust? And why does that hunger keep coming back when Jesus said we’d never be hungry?
And as I was thinking about that this week, I kept thinking about this scene from an episode of Seinfeld. Kramer and George are sitting in the diner and Kramer asks, “Do you ever yearn?” and George replies, confused “Yearn? Do I yearn?” and he takes a second to think about it and says, “Well, not recently…I’ve craved. I crave all the time – constant craving. But I haven’t yearned.”
And Kramer gives him this look of pity and says “Look at you – You’re wasting your life.”
And I keep thinking about that scene because it encapsulates so well what Jesus is getting at here. Jesus is talking about two different types of hunger: physical and spiritual, and two different kinds of longing: craving and yearning.
Craving is fleeting. It’s a longing for something physical and it can be satiated, but never for very long. You can crave a snack or a cigarette or a touch. We often crave things that are comforting in the moment, but that we suspect in the long run might not be good for us. But craving is also part of being human. And God cares about our cravings – sending the literal bread – giving us “what we crave.”
But yearning is something else entirely. It’s prolonged. It’s a longing that is earnest and sincere, often for something that can’t be touched or tasted. You yearn for love or for purpose, or for closure, for acceptance,…or for God. And when yearning meets its object, it isn’t just filled, it’s fulfilled. It’s transcendent and holy in a way that satisfying a craving never is.
And when Jesus meets the crowd that went looking for him in Capernaum, he’s asking the same question that Kramer asked George. “You are craving the food that perishes,” he tells them. “But what are you yearning for?” Are you listening to your deepest longings, are you searching for what you really need? The craving will come back, but your yearning, that can be fulfilled. If you trust.
Jesus cared about their cravings, of course he did, he just fed all five thousand of them, but he wants to dig deeper, to their yearning. Because he knew that they were craving the bread– but that they were yearning for life.
“I am the Bread of Life” he says. And I am what you’re yearning for. You’ve found me. I’m here to give you life and give it abundantly. I am here to fill all things because I am enough and here’s the best news of all– you are enough too.
Even with your hunger – all your cravings and yearnings. You are enough. Enough for God to live a human life for. Enough for God to die a painful and humiliating death for. Enough for God to go to every length to save you and gather you in and give you life.
You are enough. Which isn’t to say you are finished. You’re still growing and becoming and being built up, as Paul says to the Ephesians, to the full stature of Christ. You are learning everyday how to live that life in Jesus, to live a life worthy of your calling. You are being equipped everyday for the work of ministry, for the work of caring for one another. So that you can be God’s hands and you can rain down blessings, providing for each other, meeting everyone’s needs–satisfying every kind of hunger.
Not because you have to perform the works of God. But because you trust. You trust that in God there is enough. You are enough.
And I’ll say it again until you feel it in your bones. You are enough. And enough is enough.
In the name of the Father, and of the ☩ Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
