Dear Theophilus,
Your letter raises such questions
in my mind. I wonder how the disciples
met this challenge that Jesus had set down, how successful they were relying on
the community, how tempted they were to abandon faith and go back to an easier
life. Perhaps, after everything that had
seen and heard, the thought never entered their minds and they simply endured
the challenge, delighted with the powers Jesus had given them and excited to be
a part of his mission. Maybe they could
do such amazing things that they never gave a second thought to their
condition, but I can’t help but think that some of those disciples longed for
the comfort of their own bed at times. I
know I certainly would have done so.
Don’t give yourself such a hard
time, Theophilus. I pray that you will
be patient with yourself, and let some of that guilt slide off your back. No one is perfect, and perhaps the call to
discipleship is different today. Jesus
is no longer around to teach anyone, so you have to interpret his teachings and
make the best decisions. I don’t mean
that you might not have ways and directions to grow, but you can’t expend all
of your energy on self-doubt. You will
merely grow frustrated and negative if you do so.
I have gathered a report from
someone whose voice I did not expect to hear until much later in this
account. Herod, the ruler, had heard
about the things that were taking place across the region and was apparently
perplexed by all that he heard. He heard
mixed reports from different individuals—there were claims that Jesus was John
the Baptist, back from the dead, or perhaps Elijah or another old prophet
appearing and performing such majestic works.
He knew that John had been beheaded, and he was one who believed in the
finality of such things, so he was uncertain as to just who this man was. It is even reported that Herod tried to see
the man.
I wonder if such a meeting ever
took place. There are rumors that
circulate as to the outcome of his efforts, some that claim much embarrassment
on Herod’s behalf, others that claim success, but I can substantiate none of
them. I think that is a rumor destined
to drift away to the annals of history, never to be confirmed. I like to think they did meet, some night
under the cover of darkness, and that Herod was secretly converted over to
faith. I don’t know why I like to think
this, especially when I have such a hard time believing it all myself, but I
can imagine Herod and Jesus in some dark street corner having a deep
conversation that stretches on for hours, Herod constantly asking for more and
sitting in wonder like a child at the knee of his hero. As I have said, I imagine that I would be
converted if I was ever in the true presence of Jesus—from everything I have
learned, the presence of Jesus seems irresistible! But perhaps Herod failed, or maybe Jesus
refused, and he spent his life in idle fascination, unwilling to commit to
serious pursuit. I’d say that it’s a sad
story, but I fear that others may say the same about me.
I have found the closing chapter to
the section you introduced in your letter.
The apostles returned to Jesus after their mission was completed and
reported back to him all that was done.
If only the stories they had told survived to reach my willing
ears! I would love to hear what they did
and how it affected them, but they retreated to Bethsaida to be alone, although
that didn’t last long, for crowds soon heard about his presence there and
followed him. If I were in his shoes I
would have been frustrated, for I’m sure that time was intended for Jesus to
spend teaching the disciples and further unraveling the stories of what they
had done, but he welcomed them with grace and taught them about God’s Kingdom,
all the while healing those who were brought to him. Jesus opened his heart, as he so often did,
and allowed this interruption to be an opportunity for teaching and
healing. Those who dare interrupt me are
often the recipients of anger and invective, but there are certainly many who are
eager to remind me that I am not Jesus!
Near the end of the day, the
disciples came to Jesus, engaged in his teaching, and encouraged him to send
the crowd away so they could get something to eat in a nearby village. They were so enrapt by his teachings, so
eager to be healed and witness other healings, that they had paid little
attention to provisions and were bound to be hungry. The disciples were thinking of these
practical matters while Jesus was busy addressing the soul, but they didn’t
realize that Jesus could meet the physical needs of the crowd as well. Jesus told the disciples a curious thing,
ordering them to feed the crowd. Perhaps
they should have thought about this on a deeper level, since Jesus had recently
given them power to do amazing miracles, but their minds were fully engaged on
a practical level, and they asked Jesus how they were to do such a thing, since
they had only five loaves of bread and two fish, and they could never have
purchased food for such a crowd, seeing as how there were at least five
thousand men, and more women and children!
Jesus, seeing that his command to
the disciples had fallen with a thud in their hearts, asked the twelve to have
the crowd sit down in groups of fifty.
He then took that food the disciples had, the fish and the loaves, and
looked up to heaven, blessed and broke it.
Some in the crowd were watching this, but most were so concentrated on
getting the groups straightened out that they weren’t paying attention. Even the disciples were engaged in this task
and weren’t paying much attention. I
suppose that Jesus would have called everyone’s attention to his task if it
were meant to be a teaching moment, but instead he quietly went about his
prayer, and then distributed the food to the disciples to give out to the
crowd.
Now, I will admit that I can’t
figure out how this happened. To this
day I am still wrestling with exactly how it works, but somehow, when Jesus
handed out that food, there was enough to feed everyone and leftovers, enough
for each disciple to have a basket filled with pieces. Somehow, whenever Jesus handed some food out,
enough remained to give to the next, and to the next, and to the next. There was always more. Jesus took that small quantity of food and
fed thousands, and had leftovers just to prove that he could do it. In Jesus, there seems to always be more than
we need. The disciples were worried the
people would go hungry, but on that day in deserted Bethsaida, he fed them,
body and soul, and they ate their fill.
Theophilus, I hope to someday dine
at the Lord’s Table, where there is always enough, and where I am fed, body and
soul, to the point that I don’t even notice anything else except the presence
of Jesus. That sounds like the greatest
meal ever, and I hope this stubborn and uncertain heart will allow me to
immerse myself in that meal.
Sincerely,
Luke
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