Late in the afternoon the Twelve came to him and said, “Send the crowd away so they can go to the surrounding villages and countryside and find food and lodging, because we are in a remote place here [and] we have only five loaves of bread and two fish. But he said to his disciples, “Have them sit down in groups of about fifty each.” The disciples did so, and everyone sat down. Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke them. Then he gave them to the disciples to distribute to the people.” Luke 9:12-16
The transformation of a formless crowd
In Luke’s gospel it seems Jesus is always going to a meal, at a meal, or coming from a meal. To offer hospitality is to him, an open invitation and one he accepts with gladness; showing up and bringing life in all its fullness. And when, by this same Spirit we eat together, we join with him in blessing these gifts of bread and of belonging to each other.
Perhaps, as we become attentive to the everyday beneath this miracle, we discover it was not only the bread Jesus blessed and gave away that day. For he was also teaching his disciples to look again and to witness the transformation of a formless crowd into communities of ordinary people. Strangers, sitting at table together and sharing so that everyone might eat and be satisfied.
We are each other’s harvest; we are each other’s business; we are each other’s magnitude and bond. Gwendolyn Brooks
And Jesus longs to involve us still, teaching by example how we too can choose to act from the reality of an abundance given us. The Son of Man came eating and drinking for good reason it seems. He was building communities where forbearance and resilience, generosity and hope, kindness and love are what sustain us, and where the Trinity becomes a reality as the guest in our midst.
Trinity, 1915 Kuzma Petrov-Vodkin
We seldom notice how each day is a holy place/Where the eucharist of the ordinary happens,/Transforming our broken fragments/Into an eternal continuity that keeps us. From the blessing: The Inner History of a Day. John O’Donohue.
QUESTIONS
Where do I notice God inviting me to raise my eyes and look again?
What might I have to offer that can be blessed, broken and given away today?
Lynn Darke