Summary: When we see the great needs in the world, we often feel overwhelmed by feelings of inadequacy and our own woundedness. But Jesus invites us to bring the little we have to him, that he might bless and multiply it as we give it away to others.
Have you ever run out of gas in a deserted place, far from any refueling station, in the worst blizzard or heat wave of the century, and wondered how you would ever make it out alive? Whether you've had that experience while traveling or felt drained of hope and power by the many stresses of life, there's a message for you in today's text.
Before we can comprehend the full emotional weight of this incident in the life of Jesus, we need to review what happened right before this. King Herod had arrested and imprisoned Jesus' cousin John, because John had been telling Herod it was wrong to take his brother's wife just because Herod had the power to do so. Herod threw a party for his cronies, and to please his wife's daughter, had John beheaded. His disciples buried his body and then came and told Jesus.
John had baptized Jesus at the start of his public ministry and declared him to be the Messiah and the Lamb of God. Their shared sense of mission and destiny, combined with the horrendous manner of his cousin's murder, as well as the injustice of losing John at such a young age, all compounded the trauma Jesus must have felt when he heard the news. Not only was this a deep loss for Jesus personally, but the grief of John's disciples likely weighed on him as well. It's no surprise, then, that Jesus retreated to a deserted place to be alone with his pain.
But bad news traveled fast, even in the days before the internet, and the crowds -- many of whom had been inspired by John's message -- may have been in shock over Herod's latest atrocity, and that could have been part of what drove so many to flock to Jesus on the day recounted in today's Gospel reading. Surely, he shared their anger and distress. But all four Gospel writers narrate this incident, and in his version, Luke reports that Jesus taught the people about the kingdom of God,1 which was radically different from the kind of regime ruled by Herod and the Roman occupying forces. All four gospeleers report that Jesus then healed their sick, which, of course, was one demonstration of that difference.
By then, it was late in the day, and Jesus' disciples approached him with a concern: the people must be hungry. In times of mourning, people all around the world use food as an expression of care and comfort. The disciples suggested that Jesus should release the crowds to go into the villages and buy food for themselves.
But Jesus had a different plan. "They need not go away; you give them something to eat." Perhaps he was viewing that moment as a time of crisis, which is precisely when they needed to be together.
The disciples answered, "We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish," the implication being that that was not even enough to feed their own band, let alone the whole crowd.
In John's version of this event, one of the disciples, Philip, exclaimed that they would have to work months to earn enough money to buy bread for each person to have even one bite.2 In modern terms, he was saying they would need thousands of dollars to provide each person just a morsel to eat. There was nowhere near that amount in their common purse.
The disciples didn't see how they could meet the vast needs of the people, given their limited resources. In another context, Jesus actually agreed with their self-assessment. "Apart from me you can do nothing,"3 he told them.
If we're honest, we aren't so different. We are all too aware of what we don't have. As a result, we may cling to the little we do have, afraid that we'll have nothing left for ourselves if we share it.
When have you felt like you had nothing but five tiny dinner rolls and two sardines, barely enough to feed yourself, let alone a world starving for hope and justice?
But Jesus saw a bigger picture. His Father in heaven had fed millions with manna from heaven and supplied a widow with endless oil and grain during a famine. Feeding this crowd? A piece of cake!
Jesus saw a world in which nothing is impossible with God -- a world in which we are not abandoned by God to fend for ourselves. Jesus factored in a God who really loves us, a God on whom we can depend. Perhaps you've heard it said, "One plus God is a majority." This God changes the calculus. The infinitude of God can more than make up for our negatives.
Jesus calls us to focus our eyes on God, to discover what God can do when we bring our nothing to him.
Jesus had more confidence in the disciples than they had in themselves. He believed that those whom God calls, God also equips. In Christ, working with him, we have everything we need to do God's will. As Paul wrote, "I can do all things through him who strengthens me."4
The key that changed everything for the disciples came when Jesus invited them to bring their meager resources to him. But it's significant that Jesus didn't perform the entire task of feeding the crowds all by himself. Having the full nature of God, he could easily have spoken a word and given every person in the crowd their own box lunch, but he didn't glorify himself. Instead, he invited the disciples to take part in the work of service.
You may remember other times when Jesus humbled himself to ask for help: He asked a Samaritan woman for water. He sent his disciples to find a colt for his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, and he had them prepare the Passover meal. After his resurrection, he asked them to bring some of the fish they had caught (with his help, of course!).
On this occasion, Jesus simply invited the disciples to place their nothingness, their feelings of inadequacy, their very real limitations, in his hands. Then he took the loaves and fish, blessed and broke them, and gave them back to the disciples to distribute to the people. As Matthew tells it, "... all ate and were filled, and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full."
When we place our insecurities, our feelings that we don't have what we need and are not enough to meet the moment, in the hands of Jesus, he blesses them and multiplies our resources, returning them to us to share with the world. As one hymnwriter put it, "Little Is Much When God Is In It."5 And we end up with more love and joy than we started with.
If you look at a drop of rain, you may think it is insignificant by itself. But a devotional writer suggests that we should "Notice and marvel at the single drops that come together, pooling and swirling. Drops turn into streams and rivers. ... One can only do so much alone; come together with many, and you have energy and power. Single drops join to make a river which quickly turns into a flood. The flood becomes a force to be reckoned with."6
U.S. Senator Cory Booker tells the story of a white man who was distressed by attacks on Civil Rights marchers in 1963 but couldn't travel to join them. He decided that he could afford one hour of pro bono work per week, and he began working with a fair housing advocate to expose discriminatory real estate practices in New Jersey. Through his efforts, Booker's family was able to buy a home in an all-white neighborhood, where the family thrived, leading eventually to Cory's election to public office. Booker said, "We may not be able to stop the most powerful people in the world from doing bad things, but they can't stop good people in this world from doing good things. Don't let your inability to do everything stop you from doing something."7
Did you notice how the actions of taking, blessing, breaking and giving in the feeding of the 5,000 parallel what Jesus did during the Last Supper?
As we come to the Communion Table, we proclaim that Jesus gave his life for us. But we should also understand that we are the grains crushed to make the bread of life Jesus offers to the world. When he takes the bread, blesses and breaks it and says, "This is my body," we must remember that we are the body of Christ. By partaking of the bread, we are asking Christ to bless us and use us to feed the world's hunger for justice, peace and love.
In the story-song, "Moses,"8 Ken Medema recounts how God called Moses to deliver his people from slavery in Egypt. Moses protested that he couldn't talk so well, that the people wouldn't believe he had been sent by God, and that there was a warrant out for his arrest back in Egypt. God asked, "What's that in your hand, Moses?"
"It's just a rod," Moses responded.
And God commanded him to throw it down.
After hemming and hawing about how he needed his rod for protection, Moses finally obeyed, and God transformed the rod into a snake, and back into a rod again. God explained to Moses that by giving him what he had in his hand, "The rod of Moses became the rod of God!"
With the rod of God, he could strike the rock and the water would come, he could part the waters of the sea, he could defeat Pharaoh, and he could set the people free.
The song ends with these questions and challenge:
What do you hold in your hand today?
To what or to whom are you bound?
Are you willing to give it to God right now?
Give it up, let it go, throw it down.
How does God feed the world? Through people like you and me who are willing to join him in his work. What are we going to do with our five loaves and two fish? Bring them to Jesus, and then set the table. The feast is ready!