Like me, the
disciples gave up, in the face of this seemingly impossible situation. They pointed out the obvious. They couldn't
possibly feed this crowd and there was no place to get enough food, even if
they wanted to. I too have felt
sent/missioned to a place or situation which seems overwhelming. I've observed the obvious. This isn't doable.
There doesn't seem to be any room for grace here.
Jesus just
asked them what they did have to work with. Seven loaves and a few fish. Jesus did what He does in the Eucharist each
time we celebrate it. "Then, taking the seven loaves he
gave thanks, broke them, and gave them to his disciples to distribute, and they
distributed them to the crowd." The people "ate
and were satisfied." And from the seven loaves there
were seven baskets of leftovers.
A miracle
for sure, but also a message. When we
feel empty and discouraged - in whatever situation we find ourselves - we can
bring what we have - no matter how poor it seems - and Jesus will take it and
bless it and break it to be distributed. I can't recount the number of times I've experienced
my poverty in doing something and discovered that when I surrendered my control
of it all and let go to let Jesus work through me, the result was far beyond
what I could have accomplished on my own. Seven baskets of leftovers and more.
If we hunger
for the things of God, if we seriously seek to place ourselves absolutely in
His hands in every way, we too will receive what we need, our “daily bread,”
both physically and spiritually. We
might prefer other, richer “foods” — nicer family members and co-workers,
resolution of our doubts, warm and fuzzy feelings, spiritual gifts and
illuminations — but faith and hope mean that we believe firmly and constantly
and despite all misleading movements of our hearts that what God gives us is
actually what we most need. It demands a
childlike trust and a willingness to endure the difficult and apparently
pointless and even to thank God for it.
I’ve also experienced turning something over to Jesus and didn't get what I hoped or didn't experience any "miracle." I think that’s when I have to bring my brokenness and weariness and fragility and inability to dare to hope any more to the Eucharist. That’s where Jesus takes our ordinary offering and transforms it to feed us with His body and blood. He feeds us with His sacrifice of Himself on the Cross. He nourishes us with the gift of life everlasting. It’s His mercy on my sin and the sins of the world. And it’s His holy communion with us that not only comforts us - that we know we’re not alone - but consecrates us with a union with Him which allows us to be like Him, even with Him, in bringing faith and life to other discouraging desert situations. When I move from "Where's my miracle?" to giving thanks and praise for receiving the gift of union with Jesus in the Eucharist, grace happens. And there will be seven baskets of leftovers.
To truly
seek God is to go wherever He leads us, into richer or poorer, sickness or
health, wherever. And that’s where—in His
provident wisdom and His careful love—He feeds His children the best.
I am
reminded of a story that I once read. In
1945 some American G.I.'s were helping the Germans rebuild a small town outside
of Munich. The Catholics there had built
a beautiful church dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. In the rear of the church, there had been a
hand carved statue of Jesus. When the
soldiers pieced the statue back together, they discovered that the only parts
missing were the hands. So they
fashioned a sign which they placed around the neck of the statue. It read - "He has no hands but
yours."
Jesus reaches out to us today, asking us to reach out with Him to each other.
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