2026.03.08 | Together, the Impossible Is Possible

“The Good News is. . . 
Together the Impossible is Possible”

Mark 6:32–44
Ephesians 3:20–21

Preached by 
Rev. Dr. Marvin Lance Wiser

Eden United Church of Christ  
Cherryland, CA 
08 March 2026

Before I begin, did anyone go back and look at Pastor Brenda’s sermon online to see how many times “love” appeared? Well, it was not 143, but I kid you not, it was 6….7. 

It had been a long day. Jesus and his disciples had crossed the sea to find a deserted place, longing for rest, for quiet, for a moment to breathe. But the crowd found them — thousands of people, hungry not just for bread, but for healing, for hope, for a word that could make sense of their suffering.

As the hours wore on and the sun began to dip low over the hills, the disciples grew anxious. They were practical people. They were counting heads. And what they counted told them one thing: this is impossible. “Send the crowds away,” they said, “so that they can go into the surrounding country and villages and buy something for themselves to eat.”

It was a reasonable suggestion. Logistically sound. Fiscally responsible. And completely without imagination.

But Jesus looked at his disciples and said five words that must have stopped their hearts cold: “You give them something to eat.”

Gulp. Not a miracle. Not a dismissal. A commission. A challenge. A call to do the impossible — together.


Había sido un día largo. Jesús y los discípulos cruzaron el mar buscando descanso, pero una multitud enorme los seguía: gente hambrienta de sanación y esperanza.

Al caer la noche, los discípulos se angustiaron. Contaron la multitud y concluyeron: esto es imposible. Así que le dijeron a Jesús: «Despide a la gente para que compren comida». Era un consejo práctico. Pero Jesús respondió con cinco palabras que lo cambiaron todo: «Denles ustedes de comer».

No fue una despedida. Fue un desafío. Un llamado a hacer lo que parecía imposible, juntos.


The disciples did what we all do when faced with an impossible task: they calculated their deficit. The cost was beyond them. The scale was beyond them. They could only see what they lacked

We know this feeling, don't we? We look at the hunger in our communities — the food insecurity (1 in 4 in Alameda County are now food insecure), the loneliness, the grief, the injustice — and we run the numbers. We look at our small budgets, our tired volunteers, our aging buildings, our limited reach, and we conclude: we cannot do this. The need is too great. We are too few. We do not have enough

The disciples weren't wrong about what they had. Five loaves and two fish. That's it. They were right about seeing what was in front of them, but Jesus’ arithmetic was more about multiplication than simple addition. The disciples were approaching the moment from a needs assessment, we need so much more food if we’re going to feed all these people.

That’s one way of going about it, sure. Sounds an awful like what county agencies like to tell us, what is needed. But there’s also another way of approaching the moment, an assets based approach, we already know what we don’t have, but together, what do we have

The point was what becomes possible when a community stops staring at its limitations and starts placing everything it has into the hands of God. 


Los discípulos hicieron lo que todos hacemos cuando nos enfrentamos a algo imposible: contaron lo que les faltaba. El costo era demasiado alto, la multitud demasiado grande. Solo podían ver escasez

Conocemos esa sensación. Vemos el hambre, la soledad y la injusticia en nuestras comunidades, y hacemos cálculos. Nuestros presupuestos son limitados. Nuestros voluntarios están cansados. La necesidad es demasiado grande

Los discípulos no se equivocaban con lo que tenían: cinco panes y dos peces. Pero Jesús trabajaba con otras matemáticas. Ellos vieron un problema. Jesús vio una posibilidad. La pregunta no era qué les faltaba, sino lo que ya tenían para ofrecer juntos, ya incluyendo a todos y a Dios.


Notice something remarkable about this story: Jesus did not begin with a sermon. He did not open a scroll, explain the kingdom of God, or offer a theological discourse. He looked at a hungry crowd and fed them

This is Jesus the community organizer. This is Jesus the practical leader, the movement-builder, the one who understands that you cannot preach to people who are too hungry to listen. Before the Word could be heard, the bodies had to be fed

This is the Jesus who calls us not just to save souls, but to feed bodies. Not just to offer prayers, but to offer meals. Not just to speak of God's abundance, but to make it tangible — real bread, real fish, real nourishment for real people sitting on the real grass. The Good News is not only spiritual, it's physical, you can feel, you can taste it. 


Observa algo notable en esta historia: Jesús no comenzó con un sermón. Vio a una multitud hambrienta y la alimentó. Antes de que la gente pudiera escuchar la Palabra, sus cuerpos necesitaban alimento.

Este es Jesús, el líder comunitario, el que sabe que la buena noticia debe ser tangible. No solo oraciones, sino comidas. No solo palabras, sino pan. La buena noticia no es solo espiritual: se puede saborear.


Jesus, by his act of blessing and sharing, unlocked the generosity that was already present in the crowd. That people who had been clutching their own hidden provisions were moved, by the sight of a child's lunch being offered freely, to pull out their own food and share. The very work of God.

But I want to sit with this: the disciples didn't stand back and watch. Jesus said to them, "You give them something to eat." He organized them. Divide the people into groups of fifty. Sit them down. Take what you have, bring it here, bless it, break it, and distribute it. The disciples became the hands and feet of the miracle. They were not spectators of abundance — they were facilitators of it.

Community organizing. Communal care. This is ancient. This is holy. This is how the kingdom of God works — not through one person's superhuman effort, but through the gathered, organized, committed action of a community that refuses to accept scarcity as the final word. 

I was honored to be present at Claudia Albano’s retirement party last week in Ashland. Some of you were there as well. Claudia has served these past 13 years as Deputy Chief of Staff to Supervisor Nate Miley. She agitated our Eden Area into cultivating both a cold anger, and also a love and concern for facilitating community building together, bringing assets, and at times dropping some F-bombs when the myth of scarcity was wielded by the powerful as an excuse.

"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has." 

Pastor Ashley quoted these words from anthropologist Margaret Mead a couple weeks ago. Five loaves. Two fish. Twelve disciples. And five thousand people fed. A small, committed group. An impossible task. And the power of God moving through their willingness.


La bendición de Jesús desató la generosidad que ya existía entre la multitud. A medida que se compartía la comida, la gente comenzó a ofrecer lo que tenía.

Pero los discípulos no se quedaron de brazos cruzados. Jesús les dijo: «Denles ustedes de comer». Los organizó. Los discípulos se convirtieron en las manos y los pies del milagro.

Así es como obra Dios: no a través de una sola persona, sino por medio de una comunidad que se organiza, comparte y se niega a aceptar que la escasez tenga la última palabra. Algo muy parecido a lo que nuestra compañera Claudia Albano nos ha enseñado con su ejemplo. Varios de nosotros tuvimos la alegría de acompañarla en su fiesta de jubilación la semana pasada.


I want to take you back. Not too far — just a few years. Remember the Pandemic?

Remember when the world shut down and people were frightened and isolated and vulnerable? Remember when the food banks ran low and the elderly couldn't leave their homes and families couldn't make ends meet? Remember when everything that held our normal life together seemed to come loose all at once?

And remember what we did? 

We organized. We showed up. We checked on neighbors. We packed boxes, ziplock rice and beans, collected oil and toilet paper. We delivered meals, we sewed masks and donated supplies and called the lonely and held space for the grieving. We did it with fear in our hearts and uncertainty all around us, and we did it anyway. Together.

We were not large. We were not wealthy. We did not have a plan that stretched further than the next week. But we had what the disciples had: each other, a little bread, and a God who multiplies. Cena Caliente started in Oliver Hall, and we cooked 5,000 hot meals six years ago in March of 2020.

And then suddenly dozens of volunteers turned into dozens of employees. A team composed of community members from right here that investigated more than 10,000 COVID cases, helped with more than 10,000 vaccinations, distributed more than 10,000 packs of diapers, and more than 1 million pounds of food, and more than $22M in rent relief.     

That was not a coincidence. That was not simply human goodness, though human goodness was certainly present. That was the same Spirit that moved through the hillside crowd, unlocking generosity, organizing compassion, turning what seemed impossible into what simply happened, because people of faith refused to send each other away. 

And we’re still doing that today. It’s a different type of emergency to be sure. But no less urgent. Our Outreach & Healthcare Education Team has morphed into our Eden Power Collective promotoras, and our Newcomer Navigation Center is busy working with ACILEP, Alameda County Immigration Legal and Education Partners.

You might have seen yesterday the horrible news that last week a six-year-old deaf boy from Hayward was deported to Colombia with his mother and younger sibling after the family was detained during a routine ICE check-in in San Francisco. The child, who relies on hearing devices due to a cochlear implant, was separated from those assistive devices during the detention and deportation, which raised serious concerns from attorneys and officials. The family had been complying with immigration requirements while seeking asylum when this violation of due process occurred. We received the call last week in our capacity as an ACILEP partner and within hours networks of folks sprang into action. I want you to know that our Eden Church team is working with the family, partners, and officials to support this family. Because this is what we do. Together in community.  


Recordemos la pandemia. Cuando el mundo se paralizó y la gente estaba asustada, hambrienta y aislada.

Y recordemos lo que hicimos. Nos organizamos. Nos presentamos. Empacamos comida, repartimos comidas, cosimos mascarillas y nos preocupamos por nuestros vecinos.

No éramos una comunidad grande ni adinerada. Pero teníamos lo que tenían los discípulos: unos a otros, un poco de pan y un Dios que se multiplica.

De ese pequeño comienzo surgieron miles de comidas, comida para familias, pañales, vacunas, ayuda para el alquiler y cuidado de nuestros vecinos.

Y seguimos haciéndolo hoy: acompañando a los inmigrantes, apoyando a las familias y respondiendo cuando ocurre la injusticia. Como lo que ha pasado con la deportación del niño sordo de Hayward y su familia la semana pasada. 

Porque esto es lo que hace la comunidad. Y esta comunidad está apoyando a la familia Rodríguez Gutiérrez. Juntos podemos. Y Pablo proclama que Dios puede hacer más de lo que pedimos o imaginamos, mediante el poder que obra en nosotros. No en lugar de nosotros. No sin nosotros. Dentro de nosotros. Dios obra a través de la comunidad. Cuando ofrecemos lo que tenemos, como los cinco panes y los dos peces, Dios lo multiplica. Así que, no nos centremos en lo que nos falta, sino en lo que tenemos, y pongámoslo en manos de Dios. Porque la buena noticia es esta: juntos, lo imposible es posible.


Paul writes to the church in Ephesus from prison—not from a place of power or abundance, but from real limitation. And yet his prayer overflows:

“Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to the power at work within us…” More than we ask. More than we imagine.

This is the God of the feeding of the five thousand—the God who takes five loaves and two fish, our small budgets, our tired bodies, our imperfect plans, and does something with them that we could never calculate. This is the God giving hope to the unjustly incarcerated.

But notice what Paul says: the power is at work within us. Not instead of us. Not without us. Within us.

God works through the community. The miracle requires our participation—showing up, offering what we have, trusting that the One who blesses it can make it enough.

And the result is beautifully simple. Scripture says: “All ate and were filled.” Not some. Not the most deserving. Not only the ones who brought more than their presence. All.

This is the vision of God’s kin-dom: that no one leaves the table hungry, that the abundance of God, released through the community of God, is sufficient, indeed more than enough.

This is the good news.

Not that life will be easy. Not that the crowds will stop coming or the needs will stop multiplying. But that when we refuse to send people away, and we finally shift from a needs-based perspective to an asset-based one, when we turn to each other and say, “we will figure this out together,” God shows up in the middle of our efforts and makes them more than we ever could have managed alone.

So church, let us not look first at what we lack. Let us look at what we have—the five loaves and two fish of our time, our gifts, our love, our community—and place it in the hands of the One who blesses and breaks and shares until everyone is satisfied.

Because the Good News is this: Together, the impossible is possible. Thanks be to God. Amen.