Feeding the Hungry

He was dirty. He looked tired. His clothes were worn. He wore the usual half alive half dead look of depression on his face. His tattered cardboard sign petitioned the kind-hearted passerby for change to buy a burger. I remember thinking "That's all he wants? a burger? That cant be all he wants." And of course common sense tells me that no man in that state wants a mere burger.

But I did take him up on his request. I reached for my wallet and then I stopped. He cant eat money. He needs food. Yes, of course money is used to buy food, but something felt so impersonal about giving money. The system we organize revolves around pieces of paper and cheap metals that we give more value to than they are actually truly worth.Would I merely give the man pieces of paper with no intrinsic value?

I pulled into the Wendy's drive thru and ordered the man a burger. I drove up to him. Rolled down the window, honked my horn to get his attention as his face was buried in a book. He rose, took the gift from me and I said no more than "God bless you." and drove off.

That interaction sparked something in me. I was a man, feeding another man. Something felt so raw, so primal and so satisfying when I did it. I 'giving the man money. And I am sure that a burger would only leave him hungry a couple of hours later. But something else transferred. My spirit felt it.

I was imparting life to the dead. I was giving nourishment to the hungry. Now we hunger for material foods and staples as God designed our bodies to consume, but we can see through the life and teachings of Jesus that he points past the need for physical food and into another realm of nourishment. He spoke of deep soul nourishment that we take from Him; that is, eating his flesh and drinking His blood. Taking the very essence of the soul of the Son of God, His very life and heart to nourish our very beings.

Towards the time of His death, He instituted the "Lords supper." This, I believe is grossly misunderstood and taken out of true heart context and understanding in todays church.

He didn't pass a mere wafer of bread or a shot glass of wine around the table. He ate a full meal. Everyone there was full and then some, so much that they fell asleep in the garden when Jesus went to pray.

In my study of the Jewish religion and traditions, I find that feasting is a central theme in all of their rituals and holidays. They eat and they eat in abundance during their feasts.

Today's institutional church offers small morsels and crumbs of the Divine life, when Christ meant it to be a feast that fills us to the point of being stuffed.

How many Christians or otherwise go through life, like this beggar I met, being satisfied with a mere sandwich, asking only for the burger instead of the full meal.

Now I had a fleeting thought of buying the man a full meal, but something in me compelled me to give the man just what he asked for.

Now, typing this I realize why. Many Christians get just what they ask for from God, and no more. They are content with a thin wafer and a shot glass of wine, calling it a supper, when Father's desire is to invite us to His banquet hall and eat to overflowing, with enough to share to feed the world over.

Today I see many of the denizens of the institutional church thin and starving, wearing rags, not aware of the bountiful feast that could await them should they think to ask it.

If the "Eucharist" is said to be partaking of the flesh of the Divine, it is sad that we only reach out and take a mere morsel.

In pondering the feasts in the Bible, I have come to the conclusion that we feast out of pure, real, nourishing relationship with each other. While the feasts consist of tangible, material food, they point beyond to soul nourishment. Where do we get this soul nourishment? From Christ, yes, but also from rich relationships with each other. We feed each other as Christ feeds us, until we are all gut bustingly full, and grow fat at the table.

I have learned to be richly sustained fully and heartily from the endless supply of nourishment that is supplied through Christ. I confess, dear reader, I am a glutton at His table. I eat until I cant eat anymore. I eat until I am satisfied that I will never hunger again.

And dear reader, I pass this invitation to you, to share with me from Father's table at my side. Hungry anyone? Supper is ready!