This summer, I read the book Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Kimmerer. The author is a scientist, a distinguished professor of environmental and forest biology, and an enrolled member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation. In Braiding Sweetgrass, Kimmerer weaves together her indigenous heritage with her scientific and environmental expertise to share with readers the wisdom of both.

One of the chapters in this book is entitled, the Gift of Strawberries. In it Kimmerer beautifully narrates her amazement over stumbling upon patches of wild strawberries as she explores the old hay fields behind her house in upstate New York. She explains that it’s from these surprise encounters with those tiny, sweet, red berries, that she began to see the world as a place bursting at the seams with gifts. She writes:

“strawberries first shaped my view of a world full of gifts simply scattered at your feet. A gift comes to you through no action of your own, free, having moved toward you without your beckoning. It is not a reward. And yet it appears. Your only role is to be open-eyed and present. Gifts exist in a realm of humility and mystery—as with random acts of kindness, we do not know their source.”

Kimmerer goes on to explain that gifts are not only wonderful surprises but they are also something that binds us to one another. A bit later in the same chapter, she talks about how differently she treats socks she’s bought versus socks that were given to her. She says,

But what if those same socks…were knitted by my grandmother and given to me as a gift? I will write a thank you note. I will take good care of them, and if I am a very gracious grandchild, I’ll wear them when she visits even if I don’t like them. […]

I think this specialness of gift giving and gift getting is something our spiritual and religious ancestors recognized as well. Both of today’s scripture readings mention the giving of gifts—especially of food. In the reading from Isaiah, God beckons God’s people to partake of God’s extravagant gifts. The passage begins with

“Hear, everyone who thirsts; come to the waters and you who have no money, come buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread and your earnings for that which does not satisfy? Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food.”

This generous offer from God tells us several things. On the surface it might seem like a simple offer of  something we don’t have—of rich and tasty foods. But if we delve a little deeper, we can see that  it’s also an invitation to engage in our senses. To savor life and enjoy. It’s an invitation to drink deeply and to revel in the rich flavors of all that is good. Through this invitation, God shows God’s care for our human experience. That even our 5 senses are known and loved by God.

This invitation to accept these gifts not only speaks to the abundance that surrounds us, but it also speaks to the way gifts connect us to God and to one another. As Kimmerer explained, giving gifts creates relationships. So through these gifts, God creates a bond between Creator and Creation—between the Divine and all of humanity.. God doesn’t want to just give a one time gift. Instead, God wants to create a dynamic relationship between themselves and all of Creation.  God wants to bind Godself to us and in doing so we are then bound to the rest of creation as well.

And because of these ties we too are inclined to give. Because others have offered what they have to us, we offer what we have to others. and we become rooted in a beautiful web of reciprocity.

We see this too in our gospel reading for today. As the gospel of Matthew tells us, like many other days in the ministry of Jesus, a crowd followed him as he taught. And as the sun began to set, the disciples encourage Jesus to send the crowd away so that they could go into town and buy something to eat. But Jesus refuses to send them away. Instead, he tells his disciples that they should feed the people.

I can just imagine the disciples’ faces at this point of the story. I’m sure there were quite a few raised eyebrows on their faces as they looked at Jesus incredulously. One of two of them might have even laughed thinking that Jesus was joking. Because how could they possibly feed thousands and thousands of people with only five loaves of bread and two fish. How are they supposed to feed a crowd the size of intrust bank arena at max audience capacity with what one guy bought at the concession stand.

 But when a sly wink or an impish grin never appears on his face, they realize Jesus isn’t joking. He’s completely serious.

It was probably at this point that the disciples’ laughter fades, their eyes widen, and anxiety starts creeping up in their bodies as they try to process what they’ve been tasked with. But before the disciples completely slip into a frenzied panic, Jesus blesses and breaks the fives loaves of bread. He distributes them amongst the disciples so that they can feed others. And somehow, there was enough. As verse 20 says, “[A]ll ate and were filled.”

In this simple act of feeding those who were with him, Jesus does two things. Firstly, he shows God’s care for the body. Of our weird, squishy creaturely human existence. He shows the same care talked about in the Isaiah passage. Through feeding people, Jesus tells them without words that God doesn’t only care about spiritual needs but God cares about physical needs as well.

The second thing Jesus does through this miraculous gift is that he reminds folks of their connection to one another. As we heard earlier from the book Braiding Sweetgrass and from the Isaiah passage, giving gifts creates relationships. As Jesus gifts the disciples with bread, he creates connections between himself and the disciples. And as the disciples give to the folks gathered there, they too create bonds with others. And at the end of the meal, after all have had their fill, they sit and rest in a supportive web of generosity and loving-kindness.

Verse 20 goes on to tell us  that at the end of this feast, there were twelve whole baskets full of broken pieces of bread. In reading this story through the lens of gift-giving and reciprocity, I asked a question of the text that I had never asked before. I asked, What happened to those baskets? What happened to all those leftovers? Maybe I’m being overly optimistic, but I have a feeling that after this experience of the miraculous feast, those who had been there wanted to share what they had seen--and what they had eaten--with others. I like to imagine that as the crowd returned to their respective homes, their minds and hearts were full of gratitude and wonder at the mystery they had just experienced. So of course they told others about what happened. And they did so over pieces and bites of bread. Maybe even speaking with their mouths full—too excited to stop sharing their story as they ate. And so, in turn, through those leftovers, more connections, more relationships were made and strengthened.

But what does all of this mean for us today?  It means that because Jesus gives to us, we give to others. Because God attaches Godself to us, we attach ourselves to one another. Through gifts, we honor one another. Through gifts, we are reminded of our inherent connection to one another. And we realize we are bound to one another not through obligation or burden but through love. We realize that true reciprocity means our own flourishing is dependent on the flourishing of our neighbors.

So, on this communion Sunday, then, may we be open-eyed to the mystery and abundance that surrounds us. May be remember the ties that connect us to one another. And may we remember the source of it all. Amen