One day in 1997, I was in a state of acute spiritual hunger. At that time, some nine years ago, I was unaware of Trinity Cathedral, even though I had lived about two blocks away for 18 months. I was feeling horribly aggrieved by every human being I came into contact with that day. I was just sure that if only one of them would be more like the person I thought they should be, all life would be better. But none of them were compliant, so I went home full of anger, resentment, and disappointment.
I sat down to relax and adjust my mood with a favorite beverage. After two or three of these favorite beverages, I found I was filled with an entirely different sensation. I was feeling strangely warm toward all humanity. Forgiveness, charity, and understanding flowed freely. You may chuckle if you have ever had a similar experience. On this particular day, for whatever reason, this commonplace scenario brought me great sadness. I was overcome with sadness that I could not reach the best part of me without help from Jack Daniels. I wished with all my heart that I could access that part of me from which charity and love flow, all by myself. The wish was the strongest I have ever experienced.
At the time, I didn't think of this wish as a prayer. I wasn't even thinking of God as relevant to anything I was feeling. But the Bread of Life must have decided to count my wish as a prayer. Because just a few days later something miraculous happened. A friend invited me to come to one of the weekday services here at Trinity Cathedral. It was the Tuesday Eucharist at 12:10, and he though it might be a nice thing to do on our way to lunch. When I came into the cathedral, I thought maybe he had the wrong day or time, because I didn't see any people. Then as we approached the side altar, I saw a group of five to six gathered for the service. I was startled. I didn't know any religious tradition that deemed the needs of so few to warrant bringing out all the church's resources for worship and nurture. As I watched, I was more startled. These few celebrated with all the enthusiasm of a Sunday morning. They didn't seem to notice that 200 people were missing. As I was drawn into participating, I began to sense something. Somehow, they felt like those 200 folk from Sunday morning were actually there. They were gaining strength from them and all the millions who have gathered at Jesus' table to be fed for nearly two millennia. I too was fed that day. I gained nourishment that improved my circulation. I felt charity toward others flowing through me much more freely than it had before.
I still get hungry. Right now, I'm hungry to know how the Spirit has gifted each of you to enliven the body of Christ. I am positive that hunger will be filled. Jesus promises to do whatever it takes to feed us. The usual good host at a banquet shops at the best stores. An especially gracious host opens the pantry and brings out those exquisite things saved for special occasions. But Jesus goes further. Jesus reaches across every sensibility, across every taboo, and says, "If you still hunger, eat my very flesh; I hold nothing back."
We have received a sign recently here at Trinity confirming the trustworthiness of Jesus' promise. Two or three folk were hungry for this parish to show leadership in caring for our fragile earth, to assure that all our habits show care for the environment. They spoke of their hunger out loud, and others with the same hunger joined them. Now a substantial group is meeting and planning regularly. They will be feeding us with ideas and challenges. When hungry people come together around Jesus, we are all fed.
For what are you hungry this day? Do you hunger for more people in your life who see you with God's charitable eyes? Or do you enjoy such love and hunger for more to know it in like measure? Do you hunger for those outside our doors to experience the Bread of Life, perhaps folk like me in the mid-90's, living nearby by unaware of what we offer? Do you hunger to know, in the marrow of your bones, that death has no sting? Whatever you hunger for, bring that hunger to mind.
We know from my experience in 1997, that God will feed us with the least cooperation. I didn't even know to pray. But why settle for the least. Let's go for the most. Let's bring our hungers to mind, speak with others about them, look for those with shared hungers, and come together around Jesus' table asking to be fed. We have cause to believe we will not leave hungry.
You will recall that nine years ago, I wished that I could reach feelings of love all by myself. God did not grant that wish. God gave me something better, something I did not know to desire or pray for. God taught me that I cannot reach feelings of love all by myself. I need you, and I need to gather with you at this table. May we all together more deeply "Taste and see that the Lord is good." May we all share more fully the Bread of Life with the whole wide world. Amen.