Feeding the Five Thousand

In the Gospel reading for this Sunday we hear the account from John of Jesus feeding five thousand people with bread and fish who had gathered to hear him preach near Passover along the shores of the Sea of Galilee (called Tiberias in the reading).

After this Jesus went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, which is the Sea of Tiber’i-as. And a multitude followed him, because they saw the signs which he did on those who were diseased. Jesus went up on the mountain, and there sat down with his disciples. Now the Passover, the feast of the Jews, was at hand. Lifting up his eyes, then, and seeing that a multitude was coming to him, Jesus said to Philip, “How are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?” This he said to test him, for he himself knew what he would do. Philip answered him, “Two hundred denarii would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little.” One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, “There is a lad here who has five barley loaves and two fish; but what are they among so many?” Jesus said, “Make the people sit down.” Now there was much grass in the place; so the men sat down, in number about five thousand. Jesus then took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated; so also the fish, as much as they wanted. And when they had eaten their fill, he told his disciples, “Gather up the fragments left over, that nothing may be lost.” So they gathered them up and filled twelve baskets with fragments from the five barley loaves, left by those who had eaten. When the people saw the sign which he had done, they said, “This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world!” Perceiving then that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, Jesus withdrew again to the mountain by himself. (John 6:1-15, RSV)

The miracle of Christ feeding the five thousand– aside from the Resurrection– is the only one mentioned in all four gospels. The miracle is important within the context of the Gospel of John because it forms the co-foundation, along with the miracle of turning water into wine at the Wedding at Cana (John 2:1-11), of John’s emphasis on Jesus as the “bread of life” (John 6:35-59). This idea forms the backbone of our catholic liturgy where Christ gives Himself in the bread and wine forming the Body and Blood and feeding the multitude of His faithful (CCC 1335).

The passover is mentioned three times in the Gospel of John (supporting a three year public ministry of Jesus). It was an annual Jewish celebration to commemorate Israel’s deliverance from Egypt. It involves gathering for a liturgical feast called a seder in which the story of Exodus is retold, unleavened bread with dressed lamb is served and psalms are sung. The importance of passover in this story from John’s gospel is an undercurrent of the on-going narrative as Jesus’ coming to be that of the true “Lamb of God” (John 1:29), whose redeeming work would accomplish a new deliverance from sin (John 8:31-36). The connection between our liturgy and the liturgical meal inherent in the seder is made evident in John 6:53-58:

So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, you have no life in you; he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. For my flesh is food indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so he who eats me will live because of me. This is the bread which came down from heaven, not such as the fathers ate and died; he who eats this bread will live for ever.

And further expanded on by Paul in 1 Corinthians 5:7-8 bringing the seder feast, Christ and the Lamb of God together (no doubt strongly inspired by the Holy Spirit):

Cleanse out the old leaven that you may be a new lump, as you really are unleavened. For Christ, our paschal lamb, has been sacrificed. Let us, therefore, celebrate the festival, not with the old leaven, the leaven of malice and evil, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.

Jesus gives thanks to the bread and fish before distributing it to the people. The Greek word used in the original translation of the gospel account is eucharisteo which is where the English word Eucharist derives from. This miracle is a clear foreshadow of the institution of the Last Supper and has a direct link to the celebration of Mass that we catholics gather for on Sunday (and everyday for that matter, all around the world).

God be praised!

Image credit.

When Father Bradford Goes Away — Congregation of St. Athanasius

An essay written by Fr. Joseph F. Wilson in 2001. Every once in a while, my friend Father Bradford will … Continue reading →

via When Father Bradford Goes Away … — Congregation of St. Athanasius

A large part of what drew me to the Anglican Catholic church away from the Roman Catholic church was the liturgy. My first High Mass experience at my local Anglo-Catholic parish was intense and I had walked into it without any clue as to what I was getting myself into. The choir was amazing and sang the entire hymns, there were beautiful vestments, and incense, the Priest faced east with the people (one of the Priests was female! and the other I am pretty sure just mentioned his family sitting in the pews!!) and the booklet for the service had all of the text the Priest would say, what I was required to say and little notes to make sure I understood what was happening (I went to RC school from kindergarten to grade 12 and there was more liturgical information in that little booklet than I had been exposed to in my whole Catholic formation). The mass lasted an hour and a half, starting at 1030 and going all of the way to 1200 and when I looked around at about the hour mark it didn’t seem like people were squirming in their pews ready to jump out at the words, “the mass has ended.” Also, everyone was welcomed to the hall for a light lunch and socializing together afterward, which I have come to learn is a regular occurrence and a staple at most Anglican parishes.

At any rate, I want to share this particular post with you by a Priest who is reflecting on spending time in a Roman Catholic designated Anglican Use parish (a little different than the Anglo-Catholicism that I find a home in under the Church of England, but not by much). Hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

Ash Wednesday 2018

This year, Ash Wednesday falls on the Feast of Saint Valentine (otherwise known as Valentine’s Day). Christopher Hale is quoted on Millennial in a post on this very same subject as linking Valentine’s Day with Ash Wednesday as a reminder of the true nature of love. I would like to expand on that sentiment a little here.

Saint Paul provides the most clear understanding of love in his letter to the Corinthians. He explains that love is more than just words, love is an action. Indeed, as Hale points out, Paul goes so far as to say that love spoken without action is as worthless as a “clashing cymbal,” while a love that’s performed in deed “always perseveres.”

Ash Wednesday opens up the season of Lent. For forty days, Christians from all around the entire world will mimic the forty days that Jesus spent in the desert in the lead up to His own Divine Ministry, which was a further mimic of the forty years that the Jewish people– God’s chosen– spent in exile. Ash Wednesday reaches back in time to the very foundations of our faith, when the Jewish faith began to crystalize into something substantive for the world to consume and understand. The forty years of exile for the Jewish people was a time of great strife and unknown but it was also a time when some of the most beautiful and articulate aspects of the faith were explored, written down and shared among the people. It was indeed while in exile that the Jewish people found their true identity and place in the temporal world. The same can be said of Jesus during his days alone in the desert. Christ is tempted by Satan and rejects all of the Evil One’s presentations because He has a Ministry and a purpose, He has a place in this temporal world. He finds that place during his forty days in the desert and that understanding is manifested in his public ministry which follows. Just as Judaism traces its roots to the exile, Christianity can trace its roots to the temptations of Christ is the desert– that period of feeling lost, alone and in exile from the world where we don’t understand how we fit in.

To love is to sacrifice the immediate “now” for the long term “then”. Love that is served up immediately, in some impulsive manner, is not love, it is lust or at best infatuation. Real love demands an outlook toward the future, toward what is next and what is to be. For this reason, Christian weddings are celebrations about the present (two people declaring their love for one another), as it is a celebration about the future (promises of raising Christian children and growing old together). Love and sacrifice are inseparably linked and we can see the impact of a world that values one aspect over the other when we see how many failed marriages and miserable people there are in unhealthy relationships. Sacrifice demands equal respect for the future as well as the present. You cannot justify giving up something today for the betterment of tomorrow, if you have no concept, no idea of what tomorrow is, in fact it would be illogical to give up anything beneficial today if you cannot articulate an understanding of tomorrow.

Ash Wednesday is the first day when we take the time to put ourselves in our own exiles from the world, in our own deserts to be lost, lonely and confused. We do this because we sacrifice ourselves in order to be prepared and be ready for our own ministries to come. We remove ourselves from this world in order that we may more accurately find our own place within it. And we do all of this out of a spirit of love that is propped up by sacrifice and penitential acts.

Today is not about wearing a symbol of our faith proudly on our foreheads (as some secular minded people might have us believe). Today is about reminding ourselves that we are dust– we are from this world and into this world we will die again. We make this first act to remove ourselves from this world because of the immediate contrast to the message that Christ brings us. We are not meant for this world as a final destination, but we are here now and we are part of it now. We must detach ourselves in order to find our place within it– in order to craft our ministry and enter back with the confidence of a saint.

Almighty and eternal God, who hast dominion over both the living and the dead, and hast mercy on all whom Thou foreknowest shall be Thine by faith and good works: we humbly beseech Thee that all for whom we have resolved to make supplication whether the present world still holds them in the flesh or the world to come has already received them out of the body, may, through the intercession of all Thy saints, obtain of Thy goodness and clemency pardon for all their sins. Amen.