Today is the Tenth Sunday after Pentecost, the season sometimes referred to as Ordinary Time.
On this day, we leave the Gospel of Mark for John’s account of the Feeding of the Five Thousand. This is one of my favorite stories in the entire New Testament — and one of the spiritually richest. There are many, many ways to preach and reflect on this passage.
Yet today, it surprised me anew.
It is another one of those strange Sundays — when the lectionary text almost seems purposefully twinned with the headlines. Remember that time when Jesus refused a crown?
John 6:1-21
Jesus went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, also called the Sea of Tiberias. A large crowd kept following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing for the sick.
Jesus went up the mountain and sat down there with his disciples. Now the Passover, the festival of the Jews, was near. When he looked up and saw a large crowd coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?” He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he was going to do. Philip answered him, “Six months’ wages would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little.”
One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?” Jesus said, “Make the people sit down.” Now there was a great deal of grass in the place; so they sat down, about five thousand in all.
Then Jesus took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated; so also the fish, as much as they wanted.
When they were satisfied, he told his disciples, “Gather up the fragments left over, so that nothing may be lost.” So they gathered them up, and from the fragments of the five barley loaves, left by those who had eaten, they filled twelve baskets. When the people saw the sign that he had done, they began to say, “This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world.”
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.
When evening came, his disciples went down to the sea, got into a boat, and started across the sea to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. The sea became rough because a strong wind was blowing. When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the sea and coming near the boat, and they were terrified. But he said to them, “It is I; do not be afraid.” Then they wanted to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat reached the land toward which they were going.
The Lectionary is, well, weird this week.
We’ve been following Mark’s gospel this year. And, had everything gone smoothly, we’d be reading the story known as the Feeding of the Five Thousand in Mark 6. But, for some reason, this reading cycle replaces Mark’s version of the miracle with that found in the Gospel of John.
Thus today we find ourselves in John 6.
And, oddly enough, I find myself transfixed by the first line in this story: Jesus went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, also called the Sea of Tiberias.
There are few lines — seemingly a throwaway remark by the author — that are more politically loaded in the entire New Testament. And that single sentence frames up the Feeding of the Five Thousand in a powerful way. This is an anti-imperial text.
Why was the Sea of Galilee also called the Sea of Tiberias?
This was a site of intense conflict between Jews and their Roman overlords. The Sea of Galilee was known in the Hebrew Bible as the "sea of Kineret.” That traditional name was eventually replaced with the more widely used “sea of Galilee” until the first century, during Jesus’ own day.
In 20 CE, King Herod Antipas (the ruler who beheaded John the Baptist in the story of a couple weeks ago - and the one who was ultimately responsible for executing Jesus) founded a gleaming new city as his capitol and named it Tiberias in honor of the Roman Emperor, Tiberius. He planned it to be primarily a pagan city, filling it with occupants from all over the region who were not Jews and building temples and shrines to meet their religious needs. Religious Jews hated Tiberias and avoided it — most refused to call the city by its new name and continued to call the site by its traditional name, Yam HaKineret.
But Tiberias it was, and the place was hard to avoid. And the city grew to be so powerful that the lake, formerly known as the Sea of Galilee, became renamed the Sea of Tiberias. To make matters worse, the city and its port emerged as an economic center for the globalization of the Roman fishing industry, an extractive enterprise that exploited local fishermen, raised taxes, shipped the best fish to the richest parts of the empire, and left only scrappy remains to feed the residents. (Several years ago, I preached a sermon on this at the Wild Goose Festival on a very hot summer day!)
Merely hearing the name, “the Sea of Tiberias,” was like a kick in the gut to Jews under Roman occupation, the moniker was a daily reminder of their Roman overlords, their ruinous economic program, and their idolatrous paganism.
A couple of decades after Jesus died, Tiberias was taken over by rebels during the Great Jewish Revolt between 66-74, but returned to Roman hands following the war and embraced imperial policy for the next century.
But in Jesus’ own time, and in the years when John was written, this was a powerful imperial city with a contested history — and a living example of the political and economic triumph of Roman globalization.
The intent of the opening sentence — Jesus went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, also called the Sea of Tiberias — is startlingly clear. The author wants readers to know this location and its politics. This story, such a nice tale about lunch with Jesus, is really about the contest between the Roman Empire and the kingdom Jesus proclaimed.
In the text, the point of Jesus’ miracle is pretty clear: The Kingdom of God is a reign of gratitude, provision, and abundance. The gifts of God are available to all who hunger, all can be seated at this meal, and all will be fed. And there will be more than enough! Twelve baskets more!
The people loved it. Who wouldn’t? Against the background of grueling, imperial-induced poverty, with meager wages and high taxes and little reward, the miracle of multiplying bread and fish for everybody was the absolute best show in town. This may have happened in a city named after a Roman emperor with a puppet king in charge, but who were those guys in comparison to this wandering prophet-rabbi-healer who supplied both lunch and spiritual entertainment at the same time. Free lunch with a miracle on the side.
Although these were Jews, they probably also understood the Roman approach to politics. It was common practice for Roman emperors to gain favor with the populace by giving them free bread and offering extravagant public entertainments. This political bribe had come to be expected throughout the empire. If you were in charge and wanted to quell discontented locals, give them something to eat and some games. It usually worked. Eventually, around the year 100, the Roman satirical poet Juvenal coined a phrase to describe it: panem et circenses, that is, in English, “bread and circuses.”
Bread and circuses. This was one of the oldest tricks in the authoritarian playbook.
When Jesus fed the five thousand, it appears that a few people in the Tiberian Romanized-crowd made the connection — Hey, Jesus fed us and gave us a miracle, too! Let’s make him King! We want him as our Caesar!
Bread and circuses. Because that’s what kings do.
So, they hatched a plan to force him to accept the crown. They’d rather have him than Herod Antipas — or the hated Tiberius. Maybe Jesus would be a good ruler, a more generous authoritarian.
But Jesus walked away from power, at least the sort of power recognized in his world. He rejected this imperial fate by escaping into the wilderness. He might have been a bit thrown by the crowd’s response. He surely needed to find a new way to help his followers understand that the kingdom he preached was not like that of Caesar.
At the end of this tale, we see Jesus’ followers adrift (again) on a storm at sea. They must have gotten confused when Jesus turned down the offer to be king. After all, that’s what he’d preached — all that business about the Kingdom of God. They got on their boat without him. Perhaps they were looking for him. They had questions. Lots of question. Where was Jesus? That’s when a storm welled up.
Once again, the disciples were in maritime distress. This time, Jesus walked across rough waters to save them. “Friends,” he said when he arrived at the boat, “I’m here. Don’t be afraid.” Maybe he added, “Let’s land over there, on the other side — trust me, you won’t be lost at sea anymore. The Kingdom awaits — right on the horizon. Can you see it?”
I imagine the disciples squinting at the shoreline. Something was visible. But its contours weren’t quite clear.
Because it can be hard to see beyond the bread and circuses.
Paid subscribers can comment at any time. Comments open on Sunday morning around 9AM eastern for free subscribers. There will be a change in commenting upcoming - please read below.
📣 BIG CHANGE AT THE COTTAGE!
The upcoming election is already contentious — and I imagine that conflict will increase.
As a result, FROM SEPTEMBER 1, 2024 - JANUARY 30, 2025, ONLY PAID SUBSCRIBERS WILL BE ABLE TO COMMENT ON POSTS.
Paid subscribers will be able to comment as usual and can read or reply to all posted comments. However, free subscribers and visitors will still be able to read comments but will NOT be able to post comments. Commenting will be a benefit available only to paid subscribers.
This is meant to guard community safety, make sure trolls cannot swarm comments, and enrich meaningful conversation.
I held back from doing this for a long time. But I find myself deleting more comments than usual and I don’t want The Cottage to become like Twitter/X.
We’re holding a summer flash sale this week for ⭐️NEW SUBSCRIBERS ONLY⭐️ for THREE more days. Click on the link below for information and to sign-up.
If you would like to be part of the paid community and can’t afford it, please email by pressing this link and let us know a little about your situation. We do give complimentary subscriptions (because of the generosity of the paid subscribers!) and we’ve NEVER turned down a sincere request.
INSPIRATION
This is not
the age of information.
This is not
the age of information.
Forget the news,
and the radio,
and the blurred screen.
This is the time of loaves
and fishes.
People are hungry,
and one good word is bread
for a thousand.
— David Whyte, “Loaves and Fishes”
David Whyte also has a wonderful Substack newsletter. If you love poetry, I highly recommend it!
Why worry about the loaves and fishes?
If you say the right words, the wine expands.
If you say them with love
and the felt ferocity of that love
and the felt necessity of that love,
the fish explode into many.
Imagine him, speaking,
and don’t worry about what is reality,
or what is plain, or what is mysterious.
If you were there, it was all those things.
If you can imagine it, it is all those things.
Eat, drink, be happy.
Accept the miracle.
Accept, too, each spoken word
spoken with love.
— Mary Oliver, “Logos”
PAID SUBSCRIBER CORNER
Just wanted you to know how much I appreciate you!
August and September are the largest renewal months at The Cottage.
If you didn’t read my recent subscriber update, you can read the whole thing HERE.
I very much hope you’ll continue — especially during this ever-changing and challenging time! I’m committed to inspirational Sunday Musings, first-class conversations with authors and activists, and theological insights on the stories in the news that you’ll find nowhere else.
A wee note of explanation: Due to the way that Substack sets up its subscription plans, I’m not able to offer the “flash sale” to current or past subscribers. 😕🙁 But I want to make sure you know the following benefits:
There will be NO INCREASE IN MONTHLY OR YEARLY RATES for this newsletter. No inflation here at The Cottage, even while other newsletters are upping rates to $60, $70, or $80 a month. NO WAY THAT’S HAPPENING UNDER MY WATCH. We’re entering the FOURTH year of the exact same rates.
PLUS, there are two new paid subscriber benefits this year: (1) ABILITY TO COMMENT will be limited to paid subscribers for the next several months as noted above; and (2) regular delivery of Sunday Musings on Saturday.
Free subscribers will no longer be able to comment and do not receive Sunday Musings early.
THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU. I’m so grateful for your kindness, encouragement, and belief in my words and work. You are the gift.
If you need help with your subscription, please click below:
There are people in the world so hungry,
that God cannot appear to them except in the form of bread.
— Mahatma Gandhi
Thank you, Diane, The Galilean Sea event was so beautifully illumined by your understanding and wise words. As I have you tube site called 'Anneli's Place' where I sometimes share mini sermons, may I use your brilliant interpretations on Jesus'
Walking on Water? I naturally will credit to you as the source. Please let me knw. I am an old retired Minister of the Uniting Church, now 86. Please let me know if you approve. Rev Anneli Sinkko MPhil
Awareness of historical and cultural context is so important!