Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Luke 9:7-17


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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