In Jesus’ parables and stories we tend to see ourselves as Jesus or the good person that makes good choices: we are the publican praying in the temple, the forgiven prodigal son, the good Samaritan.  But in truth in each story and in each parable we are each of the characters and should study them that way, prodding inside ourselves to see how we are like the hubristic pharisee praying without humility in the temple, how we are like the huffy brother who doesn’t embrace his long-lost sibling in the prodigal son, or even the person in the ditch who has been passed-by by the very people you depended on for help in the good Samaritan story.

Thinking of that, let’s look at a story that is the only same story to be found in all four gospels. Here is an overview. Jesus has just found out that his cousin John the Baptist has been executed, beheaded, and he is looking to take some time for himself to process this.  He prepares to get on a boat, and looks back and there are 5,000 men, probably around 10,000 people. Our amount of 5,000 is only men and the bible makes it clear that there were also women and children who were not counted. All of the gospels say that Jesus took, “compassion on them,” and decides to go off alone later.

Jesus stops and teaches them and heals the sick, and the time gets late in the day.  The disciples suggest sending the people to the villages to buy their own food before the stores close. But Jesus suggests that they be fed with what is there. The disciples check to see what this is, and there is only one child’s lunch that is made up of five loaves of bread and two fish, a small amount.  We know the parable from here. Jesus blesses the food, and the disciples distribute it among the people and there is enough with a lot left over — baskets and baskets full of bread and fish.  Like God did for Moses in the Old Testament giving manna and quail to those who were hungry in the wilderness desert, maybe even in the same desert.  But we are not told in any of the four gospels that we are the ones sitting on the desert mount to listen to Jesus.  Just that Jesus can take what we think is not enough and make it plentiful if we just let it go.

But that is hard, and not sanely possible to do.  We see the empty shelves at the Food Bank, and we know there will be bellies that are not going to be fed.  We try to work at the pantry as the numbers are burgeoning, and we wonder where that miracle is when we need it.  Can Jesus feed the 10,000 now? Can there be a miracle that feeds 42 million people? Can a miracle make a  group of men and women get together enough to promise that the food will not be scarce for anyone?

What if we are not the people waiting on a miracle? What if we are not the disciples trying to make sense of the world’s problems and make the best choices? What if we are the little boy who gave up his tiny lunch so that everyone, a multitude, could be fed?  In all four gospels, the writers didn’t care enough about this little boy to have him included in the first count they take of the crowd.  It wasn’t five thousand grown men and one special little boy.  It was 5,000 grown men and their women and children. Maybe you can relate. Have you ever contributed a lot to a life event, and somehow no one ever even counts you?  Or your name gets left out? It was as if you never made a sacrifice or put your time and energy in.

That little boy trusted that he might be fed.  He had seen the miracles performed on those who needed to be healed. But even the disciples did not have the faith the little boy had.  That little boy was not interested in being a victim. That little boy gave all he had to the disciples, and he didn’t have to.  Jesus was opposed to child abuse in any form, and he personally would not have taken that child’s lunch if the child was not going to be fed, too. But the disciples didn’t know and trust that.  Still the child had faith.  Steadfast.

He had to wait for the food to be distributed to the adults first. And the little boy saw those crowds.  He knew that there was a fair chance given a more normal day, that he would be skipping lunch all together.  But he gave freely with hope that he not only helps himself but others.  It wasn’t logical, but it was a show of a child’s faith, and we are called to show the faith of a little child.

Sometimes we are asked to give up something for others.  There is no action so small in your life that does not influence the whole world. Small acts of kindness and faith are necessary for your own mental and physical healthiness. But those small acts make the world go around. Like the story of the butterfly flapping its wings becoming the winds of change hundreds of miles away. Maybe it is something that doesn’t make sense for you to give up.  It didn’t make sense for the little boy to give up his lunch to feed 10,000 people.  To say, “here, take my little lunch and feed everyone,” is ludicrous.  But the boy let it go.  He gave it to the disciples and took his hands from around it.  He waited a long time to get his lunch.  Adult men would have been fed first, and we know there were 5,000 of them.  Imagine the little boy waiting patiently, reassuring himself that if it can feed these men, it could find a way to feed him too.

Again, that young boy had a steadfast faith.

People around the world are being asked to give up and wait with faith, wait at the end of the line and stay hopeful, resilient, persistent, courageous. It might be a tough time now, but we have to trust that even though it doesn’t make sense, we have to keep the faith that we can make a difference with our little contribution and let it go.  God can do amazing things with the little that we have.

Kate read: “The new way that we undertake to which we are constantly being converted calls for constancy and deep conviction: ”At present we are a people that knows only pain. We endure in darkness, with the stubborn certainty that some day a pure and free human being and human society will be born.”

What was this new way? The missionaries in the beginning of the 1980’s in  Latin America were dealing with a twisted theology that didn’t offer any help to the poor and supported corruption and the status quo. Gustavo Gutierrez, a Catholic priest, came up with liberation theology.  People with steadfast faith and action can help all people, particularly the poor to rise from poverty and loss. The poverty in Latin America was shocking and stark. I was reading about Guatemala at this time, and the divide between haves and have nots was massive. But Gustavo Gutierrez came up with a way to help people see God in the struggle, and discipleship as Christianity’s gospel of relief. God wants all people to be equal. The hearts of the poor in Latin America were the only gold God needed to turn the tide on poverty-making-institutions.  Their resolve meant letting go of the little they had to allow God to bless it with strength and resolve.  The world said, “You only have five loaves and two fish, so we will take that from you and use it for ourselves.”  But given the right attitudes, the people entrusted their small contributions to God, and there was liberation from poverty, even in the wake of those who had participated in this Christian revolution and were martyred. Those attitudes of grace and resolve include a lot of stubbornness and perseverance. Imagine these traits as that little boy giving, not knowing if it will amount to anything or that there would be  a meal left for him at the end, and still he released it.

God looks on us with compassion and never sends us away.  There is an abundance that can happen if we just turn over what we have to God for God’s use and its hidden value.

• What resources do you have that God can bless even if it looks small or bleak?
• Can you let go and trust that someday it might lead to a larger positive change?
• What are your five loaves and two fish that you can offer?