“Give them some food yourselves.”
--Luke 9:12-17
The Gospel for today is Luke’s version of the famous feeding the multitude with five loaves and two fish. According to Luke there were about 5000 people who had come out into the countryside to listen to Jesus and it was getting late. The Apostles knowing it would be dark soon, ask Jesus to send the people away so they can find lodging and food. But instead, Jesus tells them:
Give them some food yourselves.
Exasperated, the disciples complain, “We have no more than five loaves and two fish…” (9:13), and that is when Jesus tells them to have the people sit down and did something quite mysterious: He gave thanks for what little He had and shared it… with everyone.
I like this story very much. It has a special place in my heart and my life. I have been in that lonely place the Apostles worry about, a place where supplies are few, and hope seems to quickly fade. But today, the deacon at church gave a homily that focused on two things from this reading. First, that command to “Give them some food yourselves.” Don’t expect someone else to do it. Don’t wait for the government to step in, or the church to start something. Feed them yourselves. When we see someone in need, we can’t just look away, or turn our backs on the problem. Jesus is speaking to all of us, calling out to all of us: Here’s your chance. What are you going to do?
The other thing the deacon focused on was that small amount: 5 loaves and 2 fish. That wouldn’t even feed the 12 Apostles, what difference would it make for 5000 or more hungry people far from home? When faced with need, or someone in trouble, how often do we dismiss our own ability to help by saying: What can I do? I’m just one person. The problem is too big, or their problem is too complex. I wouldn’t even know where to start. Plus, I don’t have enough money or resources to make any real difference. Anyway, I’ll probably just make things worse. So, instead of doing anything, too often, how often do we just close our eyes and turn away? Or worse, like the Apostles, someone needs our help and we just send them away; tell them to try Casa Juan Diego, Star of Hope, Salvation Army or Covenant House.
The deacon argued that we are called by the Gospel to live lives of charity and solidarity with the poor and the hungry. Solidarity with the lowly and the afflicted. And, he promised that no matter what we had to offer, no matter how small or humble our gift, in God’s hands it would be enough –in fact, more than we could ever imagine. I felt the tears filling my eyes and warming my cheeks even before I realized I was crying. That small gift was exactly what I needed. It gave me hope. At a time when America is turning its back on the poor and the lowly in favor of tax breaks for the wealthy; when refugees are being rounded up by masked officers, detained in secret places, and deported to for-profit prisons in foreign countries, for a Catholic deacon to say again and again: Don’t send them away. Don’t send them away. Take care of them yourselves. It felt like the beginning of a revolution.
