Friday, March 13, 2015

When hope is a head on a platter


“When it was evening, his disciples came to him, saying, ‘This is a deserted place, and the hour is already late. Send the multitudes away, that they may go into the villages and buy themselves food.’

“But Jesus said to them, ‘They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.’

“And they said to him, ‘We have here only five loaves and two fish.’

“He said, ‘Bring them here to Me.’

“Then he commanded the multitudes to sit down on the grass. And he took the five loaves and two fish, and looking up to heaven, He blessed and broke and gave the loaves to the disciples, and the disciples gave to the multitudes.

“So they all ate and were filled, and they took up twelve baskets full of the fragments that remained.”

Matthew 14:15-20


The people are grieving and confused. A beloved leader, John the Baptist, known to be a friend of Jesus, is dead. Beheaded by the king. John had preached Jesus everywhere he went. The people had flocked to John to hear his words. Jesus is here! Jesus is going to save us! I am his servant. He made them believe. Or he at least made them hope. And now John, the fiery servant of Jesus, is dead.

What’s going on, Jesus? What’s this all about? Why is this happening? Is this all a lie? He loved you. He gave up everything for you. Why didn’t you save HIM? Why didn’t you DO SOMETHING?

But Jesus’ disciples had gone out among the people. They had healed diseases, cast out demons, kept preaching their leader’s message of transformation. And now Jesus’ name was everywhere. So much so that Herod feared this was John the Baptist risen from the dead. Is this Jesus, this healer, indeed the Savior we have been waiting for? Or is he just a hoax?

So now people throng to Jesus even more. They are desperate: for answers, for the lifting of their oppression, for change. They want to know what Jesus is going to do about John. They want to see miracles. They want to hear his voice again and feel the hope that seems to rise on the air with his words. They have nothing, not even food. They want Jesus so much that they go hungry in the wilderness just to be with him.

The disciples are hungry and weary themselves. “When is he going to send them away?” they whisper.

But our God dreams big. While the disciples look at the practicality of the situation, Jesus looks at the hurting hearts of these people. Compassion fills him. They see throngs of thousands of hungry bellies. He sees individual hurting souls. He wants to fill them up with hope.

I can just see him, a little smile on his face, telling the people to sit down and pass the word around. Lifting up the meager lunch and offering it to his Father. Then breaking it, breaking it, and breaking it some more, filling every belly there with food and every heart with laughter. All those chunks of bread passed hand-to-hand like pieces of edible love. Like hope. It must have been fun.

And each doubting disciple gets to clean up his own basketful of hope. A basket heaped with bread from the God who continually calls them to look beyond the ordinary, who keeps challenging their faith to become bigger.

By filling their bellies he fed their hearts, and he showed his disciples that there is always enough for those who believe.

And if it seems there is not enough?

Believe him for what he is going to do.

John’s head on a platter may mean thousands of people finding Christ.

His own death (not yet even a thought in their minds, but surely a looming cloud in his) means the shattering of sin’s hold on all of us. It’s not what they would have wanted or expected. It is far, far better.

And me? My struggle may mean I have to let go of everything I thought I wanted. It may mean my transformation from selfish girl of the world to filled-up follower of Christ. It may mean pointing people to heaven instead of hell. It may mean my knowing his name.


It may mean everything.

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