Loaves For Many

" When Jesus heard of the death of John The Baptist, He withdrew in a boat to a deserted place by Himself. The crowds heard of this and followed Him on foot from their towns. When He disembarked, and saw the vast crowd, his heart was moved with pity for them, and he cured the sick. When it was evening, the disciples approached Him and said, 'This is a deserted place and it is already late; dismiss the crowds so they can go to the villages and buy food for themselves.' Jesus said to them, 'There is no need for them to go away; give them some food yourselves.' But they said to Him, ' Five Loaves and two fish are all we have here.' Then, He said, ' Bring them here to me', and He ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, and looking up to heaven, He said the blessing, broke the loaves and gave them to the disciples, who in turn gave them to the crowds. They all ate and were satisfied and they picked up the fragments left over -- twelve wicker baskets full." --[Matthew 14: 13-21].

There is a lot more to this simple story of Jesus, and the loaves and fishes, than meets the eye.

First, there is the almost conversational phrase, "When Jesus heard of the death of John The Baptist . . . . . "  The fact is, that John the Baptist, an early prophet to Jesus, was Jesus' cousin. It was King Herod who had had John The Baptist beheaded as a false prophet. Already, King Herod had tried to find and kill every first born male at the time of Jesus' birth, in a failed attempt to assassinate the Christ. King Herod was trying to kill anyone who would worship anyone but himself-- even the Son of Man.

And so, of course, Jesus, being fully human, went off by Himself to grieve over His cousin. We have all done this! -- isolated ourselves in times of intense pain. . . .

How many times have I done this myself? As my harsh childhood took its toll, with the physical bruises, the verbal abuse, the command of my father to my mother-- 'Do NOT feed her!' -- I systematically shut down. I barely ate, I began to sleep poorly, I shut down my emotions, finally I stopped speaking.

I find myself at this stage of life, more and more alone. My father died first. Then, my best friend. then, my mother-in-law. Then, my mother. My instinct has been to retreat into myself again. I want to shut down and become that childhood ghost all over again. It is a familiar place. But it is not a place of healing.

It is telling what brought Jesus back from that far away shore. People needed to be fed. They needed to be healed.

I want to stay on that far-off shore, myself. Instead, every year since my father died, I have yielded finally, to the longing to return to his home country. I host my family there for a reunion.

Every year, I order wonderful sandwiches. I make a side dish. Or two. I invite everyone. Then, I fret.

What if too many unexpected guests show up? What if I do not have enough food for everyone? Sometimes, I even lose a little sleep over this.

Each year, I do a lot of unnecessary worrying.  Because, a cousin brings a fresh salad. Another cousin brings a fruit platter. Another cousin brings a platter of dessert squares. This year, someone brought a crock-pot full of sweet beans. AND a pie. Many brought wine. Instead of having too little food, we  have an overflowing bounty.

Last year, at the party, one cousin said, "You can feel the Love in this room."  Another cousin said, "This feels like Christmas." I feel the Love, too. I am beginning to heal.

I have learned many things from this annual party:

Miraculously, there is always enough food-  and it is not all dozens of the same dessert, with no entree or side dishes. This miraculous and varied bounty is what happens every time you get a community together.

There is a mystical and breath-taking sensation that comes from breaking bread together-  it is like the joy of Christmas. You can feel the Love in the room.

My fears about not having enough food come from my rough childhood. The fears are not really about food. My fears are about having enough Love. And when a community gets together and breaks bread, there is always more than enough Love.

Jesus knew this. He breaks bread with us every week, in the Eucharist. He heals Himself in this way. He is whole again, seated at the right hand of the Father. He invites us in.

We are whole again, as well, when we break bread together. Jesus offers Himself. He heals us. He loves us.

And there is always more than enough Love, in our connection with each other --and with Jesus.

(c) Spiritual Devotional 2014. All Rights Reserved.