It’s been a tough week in a tough place where I work. 2 students have lost their lives to violence over the span of the weekend. I did not know the students or even of them. They were anonymous to me but after seeing many distraught students in my classroom Friday morning I felt some of the pain that such a loss brings to people who are sadly accustomed than anyone their age should be to such awfulness.
There’s a terrific story in the gospels. It’s so terrific in fact that besides the crucifixion it’s the only miracle repeated in all four gospels. In it, you’re probably familiar, a large crowd has gathered to hear Jesus teach. And they get hungry. Jesus tells the disciples to feed them. Of course their reaction is huh? What do we have? One of them finds a boy, I wish the scriptures gave us his name, who had 5 loaves and 2 fish. Not sure if it was wheat or white and if the fish were walleye or trout, but that’s what they had. Jesus takes the loaves and fish and somehow multiplies it into a feast for the masses. 5 loaves and 2 fish.
When I go to work, I feel like the disciples. LORD, I pray, this problem seems overwhelming. All I’ve got is 5 loaves and 2 fish, and they’re not really big fish you know, never really learned to fish. What can I do LORD? I’m just a guy who teaches history, grew up in the safe place, never experienced anything close to traumatic in my life. Well, here you go LORD, here’s my life, use it this week, next week, next month, next year. I’m offering my 5 loaves and 2 fish.