In the late 20's my father took me to hear William Howard Taft speak at an outdoor political rally. Taft was a former president. And my father, who had no special interest in politics, used the speech as an excuse to take a ride in his Model-T Ford. We went a few miles to a large field filled with several thousand people. On the fringe, we could scarcely see Taft, let alone hear him. No matter. We were there and we could read his speech in tomorrow’s Boston Post.

Which event, of course, stuck in my mind: how did Jesus ever manage? He spoke often to a single person, to small groups. But just as often to large and even very large groups.

The answer is given: He sometimes spoke on the lakeshore where the smooth surface of the water served as a sounding board, the more so if He was in a boat and somewhat elevated. As church pulpits used to be high, or as we had two elevated platforms in choir for reading the Lessons in the Divine Office. Or as Snowmass Abbey had the refectory’s Reader perch high up on the wall of the room. Better still, there were natural amphitheaters in the hills, no doubt well known and used for gatherings. But it still seems a problem to me.

So I got the idea that perhaps with such crowds there was a tactic in use that is never mentioned. And the Scriptures make it plausible, for their style lends itself to repeating what was heard.

“A sower went out to sow his seed...” And the crowd would repeat that,“A sower went out to sow his seed...” —gradually getting louder and louder as the number hearing it increased. In the end all would be saying it together.

 And Christ would lift His hand and continue:
“Some of the seed fell on rocky ground...”  “Some of the seed fell on rocky ground...” etc.

A kind of participatory liturgy. An engaged audience. With increasing interest in seeing how it would turn out, what would follow. Not to say an excellent memory device. For each could tell the story later.

“A man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho...”  “A man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho...”  Time and time again, until the whole crowd was saying it in unison.
“He fell among robbers who beat him up and left him half dead...”  “...who left him half dead.”
“And a Levite went down the road and passed him by...”  "And a Levite went down the road..."
“And a pharisee went down the road and passed on the other side...” And so on.
“Who has ears to hear, let him hear.”

And the classic one—and He was a classic story-teller:
“A man had two sons...”  Repeated and repeated.

And so we come to today:
“Have you bread?  Have you fish?”
“Yes.  Barley loaves.  Two fish.”
“Tell them to sit down.”

At the back of the crowd they would not know what was going on up front with Jesus.
But soon enough a man came by with his robe filled with bread, and fish, smoked and salted.

He gives a man a half-loaf broken off.  Two fish.
The man says: “Where did you get the bread?  The fish?”
And he says, “Jesus.”
“And where did Jesus get them?”
“He made them.”
“What do you mean, ‘He made them’?”
“You heard me. He made them.”

And the man slowly eats the bread and the fish, saying over and over to himself:
“Who is this man?  Who is this man?”

And that’s the message I leave you with today:
                            “Who is this Man?”