“My heart is moved with pity for the crowd, because they have been with me now for three days and have nothing to eat. If I send them away hungry to their homes, they will collapse on the way,
and some of them have come a great distance.”
His disciples answered him, “Where can anyone get enough bread to satisfy them here in this deserted place?”
I have never been without food. If I've missed a few meals that was entirely my choice. It is easy to take this privilege as an entitlement, as if, "It's only right."
Several years ago I visited a classmate's home and played the board game Risk with his younger brothers and sisters. To my surprise I won. Playing against my classmates I had never won. The next day, as Tony and I were once again on the road, I crowed about winning the game.
He told me what should have been obvious. These young people were cowed by my presence. No one would attack me. I hadn't noticed. My only competitor was Tony and, since his family could eagerly, joyously attack him, he didn't stand a chance!
People who have power over others -- whether it is political, physical, intellectual, sexual, financial or religious -- usually don't notice its invisible effects.
Liberation theologians pointed this out a half century ago. When wealthy people in central America were shown photos of various casas they took for granted that the poorest hovels and the comfortable mansions were treated equally as houses. Poor people, however, were surprised that the same word, casa, might describe their poor dwellings and the palaces of the rich. The word should have an equalizing effect since it applies to both, but it doesn't.
They called the discussion consciousness raising. The powerful never get it; the powerless do.
Similar experiments are done with other games. One Monopoly player is given two dice; the other, one. Of course the player with two dice wins. He is not surprised by that. He doesn't see any unfairness in that at all. He played to his ability and he won! Of course! Should he have made some concessions to the other player while they played? It never occurred to him. He didn't make the rules; why would he suggest they change them?
In today's Gospel Jesus raises a novel question with his disciples when they find themselves surrounded by a crowd of several thousand hungry people. "How many loaves of bread do you have?"
Are we expected to share what little we have with others? Is it my fault they didn't bring enough? Am I my brother's keeper?
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Jesus takes charge. He takes the bread, blesses it, breaks it, and gives it to his disciples for distribution. He neither hesitates nor permits his disciples to ask what he intends to do. Everyone has enough to eat.
They ate and were satisfied.They picked up the fragments left over–seven baskets.Our present food crisis is nothing new. We are always threatened with a breakdown of our systems and we usually manage the situation parsimoniously. That is why some have too much and millions have too little.
The Lord shows a better way to those who allow him to take charge.
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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.