A stalk of freshly picked rhubarb, dipped in a small, designated bowl of white sugar for each bite, is my childhood memory of summer days spent at my granny’s allotment. Further down memory lane, a slice of bread dampened with water and sprinkled with white sugar was a toddler’s snack; in its fancier version, it was a slice of bread topped with cream and sugar. Only much later did I understand that this was all due to the scarcity of food. As a teenager, I remember queuing for hours to buy foodstuffs. Every early December, a shipment of oranges from Cuba was on the national news, with discussions about whether it would make it to the ports in time for Christmas. Local churches distributed food parcels donated by various aid agencies in the West. The persistent food shortage wasn’t a result of war or a string of catastrophic natural disasters; it was a painful side effect of the apparently superior political and economic system called communism. It all changed dramatically for the better when it collapsed, and the free market took over. Once unshackled, the entrepreneurial spirit led to economic prosperity; food shortages became a thing of the past.
“He who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.” The opening line of today’s first reading may look like an invitation to free stuff or an inspiration for wannabe populists seeking easy popularity, in the same way as encapsulated in the ancient Latin phrase: “Panem et circenses” – “Bread and circuses”. The multiplication of food in today’s gospel seems to strengthen the case for free handouts, when Jesus rejected his disciples’ common-sense argument: “This is a desolate place, and the day is now over; send the crowds away to go into the villages and buy food for themselves.” Instead, he told them, “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.” Their incredulity was clear in their response: “We have only five loaves here and two fish.” Jesus overcame their opposition, and we know how it ended; the rest is history. The final line of the passage read at Mass suggests a great, spectacular success: “They all ate and were satisfied. […] And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children.” The stage was set for any kind of milking the success and basking in the glory.
Except that Jesus “immediately forced” (literal translation from the Greek original) his disciples to take the boat and sail away, “while he dismissed the crowds [and] went up on the mountain by himself to pray.” (Matthew 14:22-23). The miracle of the food multiplication is the only one reported in all four gospels, but only St John’s offers an explanation of Jesus’ strange move: “knowing that [the crowds] intended to come and make him king by force, withdrew again to a mountain by himself.” (John 6:15) Some time later, when some people found Jesus again, he was very direct with them: “you are looking for me […] because you ate the loaves and had your fill. Do not work for food that spoils, but for food that endures to eternal life.” (John 6:26-27) That aligns very neatly with what we heard in today’s first reading: “Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labour for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food. Incline your ear, and come to me; hear, that your soul may live.” The invitation was a metaphor for seeking and finding the meaning and purpose of life, a metaphor used many times in the Bible. It was encapsulated in the phrase used by Moses and then recalled by Jesus: “man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord.” (Deuteronomy 8:3)
In this context, the story in today’s gospel takes on deeper spiritual meaning. The crowds followed Jesus for reasons unknown to us; the gospel doesn’t say why. He was already known as an extraordinary itinerant preacher, healer and miracle-worker. Certainly, the latter two qualities were strong draws, as it was reported that Jesus “healed their sick.” But there was more to his following, as described by St Luke and St Mark: “he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. So he began teaching them many things.” (Mark 6:34) In other words, they were seeking a sense of direction in life, a meaning and purpose. Our world is no different. Despite the abundance of goods and services at our disposal to meet every whim and desire, there’s a palpable sense of emptiness. The more people try to fill it with ever greater consumerism, substance abuse or the pursuit of pleasure, the emptier they feel. The promises offered by various freedoms and ideologies of our age have turned out to be, at best, empty or, at worst, harmful. People around us crave something that would give or restore their sense of direction and purpose in life. As to his disciples, so to us Jesus gives this instruction: “You give them something.” We are not able to solve the world’s problems and afflictions; we have no power to do so. But by sharing with people our experience as Christians, we can offer them what they crave: hope, faith and love.
