Living out Jesus’ Plan

I have grown up being told Bible stories.  I have experienced flannel graph, records (actual records!) of Bible stories being told, Sunday School, church services, The Bible Man cassette tapes, Veggie tales on VHS and more.  I have heard the story of Jesus feeding the 5,000 with a boys lunch numerous times.  I have listened and read scholars, pastors and teachers talk about giving Jesus whatever we have and watch Him multiply what we offer.  I have been encouraged by the story; I have wondered over how it really all went down; and I’ve imagined facial expressions and reactions of all those involved.

I recently read this very familiar story in Matthew 14.  There was this huge crowd that Jesus had compassion on. It was probably a mishmash of people: all different ages, sizes, social and political standings.  Within the large group, cliques were probably formed as some people desperately tried to avoid other people.  It didn’t phase Jesus.  He saw them all as needing help.  He mingled with them and healed the sick.  I imagined he chatted with many, struck up a variety of conversations, listened intently to their individual hearts, encouraged them and loved them.  It was an all day affair of Jesus investing in person after person after person.  The disciples began to realize it was close to dinner time and after a quick consultation among themselves they realized they were low on excess funds, and no one had thought ahead to how this day would play out.  They brainstormed various options and proceeded to suggest to Jesus that they send the crowds away so they could all go dig up their own grub.  The disciples were concerned for the crowd, and themselves since hungry crowds can quickly become unruly.  Their idea was practical, sensible and do-able. Perhaps they were even quite satisfied with themselves for being so thoughtful as to recognize that dinner time was just around the corner and surely everyone was hungry. 

My guess is Jesus didn’t even hesitate with his answer: “Oh, don’t send them away!  Why don’t you feed them!”  I can imagine the disciples discomfort since I have experienced my spouse telling me after church on a Sunday morning, “I invited a new couple over for dinner, do we have enough food?”  I have felt a mixture of emotional responses that range from “YOU DID WHAT???!!”;  to recognizing that hospitality IS the Christian thing to do; to wondering if I’ll even like this couple; to resignation and mentally figuring out how I can quickly thaw out more chicken, or  make more potatoes than what is already cooking at home on timed bake.  I imagine they felt a bit trapped because they just couldn’t tell Jesus no.

Jesus gave them a goal to feed everyone but he didn’t give them a step by step plan.  He gave them some wiggle room to use their imagination and their particular skill set.  Obviously not one of them was Martha Stewart, but they were somewhat resourceful in finding a young boy willing to share his lunch. When you read the story it doesn’t say that Jesus told them to feed everyone and then he went off and did his own thing.  It’s not as if Jesus handed them this big responsibility and then left them to it.  Jesus remained available.  Jesus was ready to meet the needs not only of the hungry crowd, but also of the now somewhat flabbergasted group of disciples.  Jesus remained available to them after challenging them and I find some comfort in that — in the moment, I’m not sure the disciples did. I imagine that when they came to Jesus to tell Him they had five loaves and two fish they were a bit annoyed and frustrated with Him.  I’m not sure the tone of their voice was completely respectful and I sincerely doubt they were calm.  And I can hear the kindness and gentleness in Jesus’ voice when he says “bring them here.” 

Jesus then got to work and He did what comes naturally to Him. He made what was insignificant into something miraculous.  Jesus multiplied what was offered to Him. 

It struck me as I re-imagined this story that the disciples had to let go of what they thought was a great idea (sending the crowd away).  They also had to release control of what little assets they had commandeered (the five loaves and two fish).  Then the disciples had to just wait and let Christ do His thing.  Maybe Jesus’ prayer of thanksgiving was long.  Maybe he stopped and chatted with the little boy before He prayed.  Maybe He just stood in silence for awhile focusing His heart on the Father.  All the while, the disciples are waiting, wondering, wishing there was a local pizza joint that delivered.  Then Jesus broke the bread. Did the disciples hold their breath?  Were they afraid as they saw some pieces fall to the ground? Did Jesus tear the bread slowly?  Did it look as if the bread was the same size as when He started?  Jesus took what the disciples offered Him, and then He broke it into pieces, returned broken pieces to them and told them to give it away. 

Something in that image makes my heart clutch up.  I think of what I have to offer Jesus, “my little something.” Then I think about releasing control of it completely and watching Jesus break it apart into pieces so that it feels as if there is less than when I first offered it. My mind cries over the possibility that what I give to Him may no longer be pretty, that things won’t look even close to how I want them to be.  I am afraid that what I offer will seem as if it’s become something else that doesn’t have “me” written all over it.  In a God-moment I have come face to face with my selfish desires and fears.

I want to think that I long to share what God has gifted me with, that I want to be used for His glory and encourage others to move closer to Jesus.  And I admit, I have a picture in my head of what I think it should look like. I have imagined various options and preselected what I like best, just like the disciples, and I think I have created options that are somewhat practical, sensible and do-able.  And just like in the Bible Story, Jesus is asking me to allow Him to create the plan.  I have realized I am afraid.  My plan makes me look good and Jesus is gently reminding my soul that is not the end goal. Jesus wants to meet the needs of the crowd that is found in my corner of the world and He wants me to participate in helping to meet their need. And, Jesus may have to tear apart what I offer so that it can be multiplied.

My heart is still a bit “clutched up.”  I stand before my Lord and I offer my small lunch.  I long for words of reassurance, a detailed plan if possible, of all that God will do to provide, as He always has, making much out of what seems so little.  My eyes search the face of Christ, saying all the words that my mouth won’t speak.  His eyes speak to me with the simple word: Trust.  Then His hand brushes mine as I lift what I have.

“I leave you peace; my peace I give you. I do not give it to you as the world does.  So don’t let your hearts be troubled or afraid.”   — Jesus  (John 14:27 NCV)