Sometimes all we have to offer Jesus is the five loaves and two fish in our interior lives. As the frivolities of worldly living fall away, what’s left is sordid but sufficient – our near emptiness or altogether chasm where the nothingness reminds us of our hunger for the Living Bread.
What can we do when Jesus asks us to feed a crowd with such little sustenance? We truly possess nothing in and of ourselves. All belongs to God, anyway, yet we desperately search somewhere in the recesses of our hearts and souls to find a gift, a blessing, an offering that just might be multiplied through faith.
When we hand Jesus the small amount of ourselves that’s left after we’ve given to our families, parishes, communities, and jobs, He recognizes the charity with which we’ve handed over the very essence of ourselves. And generosity begets generosity. We hand Jesus our five loaves and two fish, knowing we will then be entirely bereft of any talent or skill or spiritual charism, but we do so in a spirit of faith.
Our confidence increases as everything within us decreases. “He must increase, but I must decrease” (see John 3:30). We know that giving all we have to Jesus – even if that translates into a pauper’s offering – can, indeed, be multiplied by Him to feed thousands of people’s souls. Perhaps our gifts are temporal and provide nourishment to the body, but, even more, our spiritual gifts can reach countless souls when given to Jesus with trust and confidence in His generosity and mercy.
Most of the time, I feel very small and insignificant when I view the grand scheme of life, even the bustle of life in a large city. It’s true that, alone, I can accomplish very little, if anything. Alone, I am destined to miserably fail my attempts at achieving great things and reaching large numbers of people with the gifts God has given me. As a writer, that loneliness is quite stark, palpable, and persistent, because we tend to remain rather hidden with the work we do.
But this is true for all of us, regardless of what excel at doing in life. Some of us may acknowledge our hunger pangs for God and respond with, “Here I am, Lord. Send me!” (See Isaiah 6:8.) Our hunger is a universal one. When we cry out to God in lamentation, often during the moments when we recognize our nothingness in light of our need for God, He responds, “My word will not return to me void” (Isaiah 55:11).
We ask the Lord to send us, and He does. This is the miracle of everyday – to give the fragments of our weariness and exhaustion, the remnants of our best selves, and even the brokenness that we view as leftovers or refuse. Jesus, in turn, takes the broken loaves of our souls and the day-old fish of our sins and creates a way for our sincere offering to become food that fortifies people we may never meet face-to-face in this life.
I remind myself of this whenever the Gospel of Matthew is read about the multiplication of fishes and loaves, because it’s a true metaphor for the interior life. It’s encouragement for those of us who tend toward despondency, because we see three things happening: Jesus’ request to feed the masses, the disciples’ response in handing Him fragments of food, and the miracle that ensues.
First, we must ask ourselves if we are listening to what Jesus is asking of us. Am I spending ample time each day to hear God’s voice? Do I invite Him to use me as an instrument to advance His Kingdom on earth? The key is to frequently pause throughout our day and ask, What is Jesus asking of me today?
Then we choose to respond. Sometimes we hand Jesus half a fish and one loaf of bread while hoarding, or attempting to hide, the rest. We hoard and hide, because we’re afraid of having nothing left. We fear being empty, because we become truly impoverished at the core, and that’s a jarring confrontation of our humanity. Then again, there are days we don’t give Jesus anything at all, perhaps out of vanity or selfishness, exhaustion or busyness. Only rarely might we accurately say that, yes, we have given Jesus all that we have and possess, so that we are truly empty-handed. This is the greatest act of faith we could demonstrate to Him, because it is an unspoken message that we trust God with everything and know that He will provide far more than we could fathom.
When, and only when, we give Jesus everything – our minds, bodies, and souls; the value of our good actions; our goods, possessions, finances, and relationships – does Jesus move mountains in, through, and for us. Miracles happen when we let go. Surrender, abandonment, is the highest form of trust in God, and He will not disappoint us when we take such radical means of exhibiting that trust in Him.
Don’t become discouraged by what little you think you have to offer God. Do not be dismayed when you face rejection, whether personal or professional. The gift is in the offering itself. When we hand Jesus all that we have each new day, He brings to fruition far more than we can fathom possible. He makes miracles happen. And His generosity is so grand that, not only does our desire to glorify Him satisfy countless numbers of people, but there is enough left over for more.
We must remember that God surpasses our greatest desires when we surrender those desires to Him in a spirit of true faith, which requires a level of certainty (or confidence) that He will fulfill His plans in magnificent ways that supersede our own.
image: Renata Sedmakova / Shutterstock.com
