|
First
Reading
|
Psalm |
Epistle |
Gospel |
| Genesis 32:22–31 |
Psalm
17:1–7,16
|
Romans
9:1–6
|
Matthew
14:13–21
|
All four Gospels report a story of Jesus feeding a multitude with a few loaves of bread and a couple small fish. Indeed Matthew even repeats the story again. However, each Gospel writer treats the story slightly differently as if to underscore the depth of its importance to people of faith. John interprets it as a precursor of the Eucharist. The remembrance of God feeding the tribes of ancient Israel as they wandered in the desert after leaving Egypt is joined to the proclamation that Jesus has become the true bread for the new Christian community.
Matthew and Mark introduce the feeding with the somber announcement of John the Baptist’s execution and Jesus wishing to get away to be alone. In Luke Jesus asks the disciples, “Who do you think that I really am?” shortly after the feeding. Matthew includes women and children in this banquet that heals and reconciles all people, perhaps to underscore that this is a foretaste of the glorious fulfilling of God’s intention for humanity.
Whatever the differences in the accounts, it is probable that by this point in his ministry, Jesus had stirred things up beyond expectation. Crowds now came to find Jesus. Mark’s account says, “Jesus saw them like sheep without a shepherd,” a probable reference to the prophecy of Micah recorded in Kings and Chronicles, where the image is used to describe the clans of Israel that are in confusion, retreating from battle and in need of a military leader to restore order. Mark characterizes the crowd as 5,000 men. The division into groups or companies of hundreds and fifties, further suggests a gathering of various local militias, expecting Jesus to take charge. Rather than a bucolic family picnic, there is a possibility this was more like a volatile mob, expecting Jesus to consummate their hatred and revenge, be it against the Roman Army of occupation, the rich landowners or whatever scapegoats could be attacked.
Jesus calmed the crowd down and taught them many things. He fed them, and they dispersed. Mark, however, leaves us with a definite premonition of danger. Like John the Baptist, Jesus calls for a turning, for a change of heart. In the background, the Gospel whispers, “Recall what happened to John, a faithful prophet of the Lord. There will come a day when some will be too angry or threatened to perceive the signs of God's grace.”
A student once asked a teacher, "How can I change myself?" The teacher replied, “Humph! You are yourself! You can no more change yourself than you can walk out of your feet.” "Is there nothing I can do?” protested the student. "You can understand and accept this," said the teacher. "But how can I change if I accept myself?" The teacher smiled. “How will you change if you don’t? What you don't accept, you do not change; you merely manage to repress."1
It is quite clear today that the church operates in a world of unruly crowds and of mobs spoiling for a fight, where the highest principle of morality is getting one’s own way. The climate for intelligent public discourse about our society’s common future is often quite toxic as well as frivolous at the same time. We will not save ourselves. That is why we need a savior; not just a commander; why we need forgiveness, not just therapy; and repentance, not merely suppression. Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, the story of the feeding of the multitude, is a miracle in that it is a sign of God’s nourishing presence among us. It is reminding us that the feeding is not what Jesus once did, but what Jesus’ living presence continually does. That is why every time we gather to be fed at God’s table, we gather to give thanks.
And I offer this to you in the name of the Living God, Amen.
1adapted from Anthony DeMello, S.J., One Minute Nonsense
