Commentary on John 6:1–15 from “Sacred Space”
/Some thoughts on today’s scripture John 6:1-15
As Philip runs some calculations and Simon takes stock of what is to hand, Jesus sees what is in their hearts. With Jesus, I review some of the decisions I have made recently, allowing him to notice what motivated me, speaking to him about what my heart has been seeking. Have I been like Philip, overthinking? Or like Simon, planning what I might do?
Jesus withdraws to the mountain by himself - John’s way of telling us that he was going to pray. Stay with him as he prays, noticing his choice not to be king of the people, but to be alone with God; see how he chooses relationship over influence, how he puts his identity before his popularity.
What aspect of this story touches me - maybe ‘the abundance of Jesus' concern for the people or the pathetic amount of food available to the disciples? Have I ever been surprised by the abundance of good that has come from my poverty?
Who has fed me throughout my life? My body needs food and my spirit needs food too. How do I provide for my spirit’s hunger?
This is the only miracle found in all four gospels, which means it is an exceptional event with meaning that goes much deeper than the extraordinary feeding of those thousands. In the gospel of John, Jesus is the one who explains in great detail what this sign means. The evangelist links the miracle with the mission of Jesus and the Eucharist: he uses the same verbs we later find in the institution of the Eucharist - Jesus took the bread, gave thanks and gave the bread to the people inviting them to take as much as they needed.
Jesus once said that he came so that we may have life and life in abundance, and this is so evident in this miracle: Everybody ate as much as they wanted, and there were twelve baskets of leftovers, much more than the amount they started with. This reminds me of the extravagant quantity of water turned into wine at Cana: I consider how God in Jesus is generous beyond my imagination, in Cana, in the multiplication of the loaves, in my own life. I ask for the grace of gratitude.
In this reading from Saint John’s Gospel we are given what John sees as a symbol of how Jesus seeks to nourish the life he has spoken about in John 3. He envisages this food with which he wants to feed us as a banquet he invites us to enjoy. For Jesus this banquet is a symbol of his desire to share himself with us in the Word of God and in the bread of life. There is no limit to what Jesus wants to share with us.
One of the most attractive characteristics of Jesus is his generosity in sharing all he has and is with us. In prayer you might dwell with how much Jesus has done for you, how much He has given you of all that He has and ultimately how He wants to share himself with you in the Word of God and in the Eucharist.
In today’s Gospel Jesus performs the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes. It is, of course, a symbol of the Eucharist; there are deliberate signals that this is so. This incident is memorable, but it pales in significance when compared to the wonder of the Eucharist. Try to devote some time to seeing the occasion, speaking to the participants and drawing fruit for yourself and your life.
The small offering of the young man fed the people. God can make much of what we offer. Our attempts to live in his love and follow him are nothing without him. we never know where our efforts to love, to help, to support others may bear fruit.
In this miracle, Jesus works with the little the apostles have to feed the multitude. Through his actions he reveals how God is towards us: nourishing, caring, lavish, and concerned for all our needs.
God also expects us to come to the aid of one another, and to share what little we have. Saint Teresa of Calcutta said about Jesus, “He uses us to be his love and compassion in the world in spite of our weaknesses and frailties.” I pray for the courage I need to risk giving even the little that I have.
This scene provides a revelation of the sort of person God is! Our resources are never enough, but God has limitless resources, enough for us to do what God wants done.
Jesus reveals the God of abundance, but notice that the focus is on the poor and the needy, not on making rich people richer. Jesus needs my help in caring for those at the bottom of the human pyramid. This is the theme of Pope Francis’ encyclical, Laudato Si.
The miracle Jesus performed with the loaves and fishes convinced the large crowds who were following him that he was the prophet they were seeking. His teaching, healing, and feeding of the multitude made a profound impact on them and revealed his divine presence.
Jesus is present in the everyday encounters of my life. He is present in those I meet every day; and especially in the poor, the marginalised, and those in need of my help. When I open my heart and reach out in compassion and love to them, I am also meeting Jesus.
Jesus was able to live in a community of ritual and tradition; he accepted it but called people to see more deeply. As Passover approaches he moves the people he meets on the hillside to appreciate its meaning in a profoundly new way, one that would connect them, not just with the past, but with their neighbours and with a broader community. For some, the miracle was for that moment and demanded that Jesus be made King. For Jesus, it was a threshold to prayer, an invitation to spend time with God.
Men, women and children sit on the grass, innocently eating as much bread and fish as they wanted. Jesus works with the little people to feed the multitude. Through his actions he reveals how God is towards us: nourishing, caring, lavish, and concerned for all our needs
Lord, the hunger of the world screams for my attention. But what can I do? Give me a willingness to go beyond myself, to share my little resources towards building a community where people love and care for one another.
This miracle reveals the heart of God, who cares about our every need. God also expects us to come to the aid of one another, and to share what little we have.
I enter in imagination into this amazing scene. I share Philip’s puzzlement; I watch the little boy as he gives up the lunch his mother made for him. I gaze at Jesus as he prays, then as he breaks the bread and the fish. It takes so long to feed everyone, but he is smiling as he works. He fills my empty and grubby hands too, and I look into his eyes and thank him.
Where do I place myself in this wonderful scene? In the crowd? With Philip and Andrew? With the boy who risks letting his lunch go? Do I offer what little I have? Do I hold out empty hands for bread and fish? Do I help tidy up? Do I catch on to what has happened? Do I go with Jesus as he escapes ‘into the mountain’?
Jesus, you do not want to be ‘king’. You dream of a community where everyone is equal. You want no one dominating. You want everyone to feel accepted and respected. Reveal to me ways in which I dominate. Do I think I am better than others? Can I admit when I’m wrong? Don’t let me play at being ‘king’!
The message of Jesus reaches into the depths of our humanity, into those spaces of life where we dance and sing, laugh and cry, mourn and despair, hope and love, and where everything deeply human dwells within us. Jesus also pours the living water into that space and speaks an eternal word. In prayer we can say ‘You have the message of eternal life.
The young boy had enough food only for himself; the food was the food of the very poor - the barley loaf. Given with love, it seemed to multiply. Whatever the meaning of this miracle, one of its lessons is that God can make much of what we offer. Our attempts to live in his love and follow him are nothing without him. The small offering of the young man fed the people; we never know where our efforts to love, to help, to support others may bear fruit.
The boy with the small lunch seems to have had little to offer, but what he brought fed the crowds. We often feel that we have little to offer in the service of Jesus. His work now depends on our co-operation with him. What is offered in love - though it looks small - can have large effects. Our prayer time is our daily offering of love and care for others in the immediate circle of our lives and a connection to the larger world of neighbourhood, country and universe.
'A large crowd kept following him': am I in that crowd? Hidden in the middle? Do I risk standing out, being seen by others? Being seen by him?
The Passover, recalling how the Israelites were fed with manna in the desert, is 'near'. Jesus is giving a sign here of who he is, the new Moses, leading those with faith in him into true freedom. I mingle with the crowd, observing what happens around me, accepting his overwhelming bounty, watching him relate to each individual person.
The crowd had motives for following Jesus - physical healing for themselves or their loved ones, the political liberation they thought he had come to bring. What are my motives? What is he offering me?
It seems natural to calculate and understandable to feel that the resources available are not equal to the demands being made. I ask God to help me when I am inclined to despair, to give me heart and hope.
The meagre rations that were available were enough. I pray for the courage I need to risk giving.
