I’m not exactly sure why, but this Sunday’s Gospel is one of those Gospel stories that I know well, that sticks with me even when I haven’t heard it in a while. The story of the loaves and fishes, or the feeding of the multitude or the four or five thousand, or the multiplication of the loaves – it’s one whose arc is burned into my Scriptural memory. (How do some stick so well while others fade so quickly?)
On the one hand, this is a comfort, because it’s a story I’ve thought about a lot and reflected on in a number of ways. On the other hand, this can cause me to tune out in re-hearing it, and especially in hearing yet another homily about it.
But I’ll give my dear pastor some serious credit – he offered a fresh angle, at least at one point in his unnecessarily lengthy reflection (ha!).
In reflecting on this story, I often fixate on the disparity between the high quantity of people (thousands) and the low quantity of food (a few bread loaves and some fish) and contemplate how this gap is addressed. As Christ blessed this food, the scarcity became abundance, just in Jesus’ offering it to God and then to these people.
But Fr. Scott took us back a step before that, to where the good ole disciples – relatable dummies, like us – have the gaul to backtalk Jesus and doubt the whole equation. Not only do they question what good these loaves and fish will do for a large crowd; they also snarkily quip that “200 days’ wages’ worth of food would not be enough for each of them to have a little.”
Fr. Scott suggested this is the kind of comment that you make when you’re sort of trying to be nice but failing horribly at it. Six months’ salary couldn’t feed this crowd, man.
He then also threw out this script-flip: imagine a family that is scrimping and saving for a vacation. The parents are tossing change in a jar. They’re skipping coffees and meals out and putting money aside to take the family somewhere special. Then when they sit down and count the money, it doesn’t quite add up to be enough. So one of the kids, worried that this vacation may not pan out, scurries off to his or her room to grab their piggy bank and dump out its contents to add them to the family kitty. The parents know as they watch a few coins and bills tumble out that it’s not very much and won’t make a big difference. But in the pure gesture of generosity (perhaps tinted by a bit of a child’s self-serving but understandable desire to go on vacation), the parents affirm the child and find some new resolve to get creative and find the best solution to make this happen. Maybe they sacrifice another item like a trip to the nail salon or a round of golf; maybe they return some recently purchased clothes or forego a date night; and they make their goal and take the trip.
You could imagine a frustrated or disappointed parent reacting to the child in this story the way the disciples react to the child in the Gospel: the dummy disciples literally say “what good” is this tiny bit of food? Jesus — seeing at once the giant crowds, the defiant disciples, and the boy with his bit of bread and fish — is acting more like these patient parents. Rather than laughing or rolling their eyes or condescendingly patting a child on the head, there’s a calm and constructive reaction.
In the story, Jesus simply directs everyone to relax and prepare to eat. Somewhere in the midst of Jesus’ blessing and the food distribution, this root gesture of generosity becomes turns the five loaves and two fish into sufficient food to feed thousands.
My high school theology teacher, the great Mrs. King, taught us how Scripture stories can often be understood naturally, supernaturally, and both at once. Maybe people had brought food that they didn’t intend to eat or share while listening and they changed their minds and offered it around to their neighbors in the crowds; maybe God’s power miraculously increases the quantity of this bit of bread and fish that Jesus blessed; maybe it’s some combination of the two.
But in this hearing, my thoughts go to the act of generosity and the response to it. When someone offers help, whether it’s a little help or a lot of help, honor the offer with warmth and affection and build on it. Even if it is a drop in the bucket, let acts of outreach and good be the catalysts for creativity, zeal, and renewal in whatever tall tasks are before you.
Try to avoid snark, naysaying, and sour reactions. Seek instead the creative, constructive action by which Jesus feeds the hungry and meet the needs of all who gather to seek God.
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