The message that comes across loud and clear in today’s readings is that God satisfies our hungers. Ask yourself: How does God feed me? Certainly he doesn’t actually provide the food that sits on our table?

Tough economic times and uncertainty in world politics have many people feeling economically insecure. In your congregation you may have people out of work or hanging on to their jobs by a thread.

Last week we emphasized the reality of spiritual hunger and the necessity to engage the spiritual works of mercy. This weekend’s gospel provides ballast for that idea by reminding us that physical hunger is just as real and has a vital claim on our compassion.

Some food is better eaten the next day. That is why it’s always good to make enough for leftovers. Cold pizza makes a great breakfast for some. Meatloaf is a great middle-of-the-night snack.

In Hong Kong citizens began hoarding food as the fear of the deadly SARS disease spread. American Airlines senior-level managers hoarded benefits when the company teetered on the verge of bankruptcy, and every day millions of people hoard their time and generosity, worried that if they say yes to one act of kindness, they’ll be roped in to 10 more.

A guy I know grew up believing his grandma was with Jesus  when he fed the 5,000. He came to that belief because whenever that particular gospel would be read, everyone in the family whispered, “Grandma musta’ been there!” And they would laugh.

In faith and confidence, we present our prayers to our God, who always feeds us when we are in need.

A large crowd followed him, because they saw the signs he was performing. With the exception of next Sunday, the gospel switches for a few weeks to John’s “Bread of Life” miracles and discourses.

Since once again, Lord . . . I have neither bread, nor wine, nor altar, I will raise myself above these symbols . . . I, your priest, will make the whole Earth my altar and on it will offer you all the labors and sufferings of the world. —Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955)