It has been two thousand years since Philip and Andrew from our Gospel story walked this earth, but we all know people just like them.
We red today about how a large crowd has gathered. It’s been a long day: hot, dirty and dusty. It’s getting late, and it’s time to eat, so Jesus says to Philip, “Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?” Philip does not offer a practical solution. In fact, he sees no hope of what could be done.
Then Andrew comes along with an idea: there’s a boy here with five loaves and a couple of fish. Then, perhaps thinking the idea totally ridiculous, he adds, but what are these among so many? But he had glimpsed the possibility.
Jesus was not dissuaded by Philip’s pessimism, nor was He disappointed by the seeming inadequacy of the boy’s gift. Resources given willingly, generously into the hands of God produce more than we can imagine. We know the end of the story: Jesus satisfied the hunger of 5,000 people.
We all know that there are immense problems that face the world today. There are more hungry people in the world than there are satisfied ones. There are more people who live in poverty than in prosperity. There are more people who live in fear than there are who live in security. And it is no longer possible for us to imagine that we are not involved in these problems. We live in the same world, we breathe the same air. We are all children of the same God.
Still, our world is fractured and fragmented. People hunger for bread, for hope, for dignity, and for God. These are the things that Jesus came to give. The problems we face are great, not only in the world or in our country. But many of our families are in need of healing, and in need of love. The problem is that Christ no longer walks this earth. No longer does He preach and teach in our streets. Could it be that God depends upon us to be healers and teachers and miracle workers?
Sometimes we forget we are the Church. And what we do, the Church does. And what we fail to do, the Church fails to do. It is up to us to make a difference in our world.
Each of us must ask ourselves the question, where I work, where I spend my day: is that place different, better, more human and Christian, more for others because I am there? Or am I like Philip, and throw up my hands, and say the task is too great? We don’t all have to be Mother Teresa, but we should at least be like Andrew, seeing possibilities and not putting limits to them.
Christ may not be calling you to heroic deeds, but He does expect you to make a difference, maybe in small ways: a smile of encouragement, a hug, a phone call, or perhaps the hardest of all, to forgive and forget. When you take time to explain something to a child or to an elderly person who may have trouble understanding or hearing, isn’t that just a little like opening the eyes of the blind or the ears of the deaf?
No longer does Christ heal and raise the dead; no longer multiply loaves and fish. We are His hands, His feet, and His voice. We must do His work, walk His path, and speak the truth.
Thank you, Father, for your incites. We, the laity, need our priests to set the course for us daily to live the truth in what we think and do and say. Praise God!
Thank you for your daily emails. I need to hear them because I have been having problems coping with the surrounding. After listening to you Father Warren, I feel better. God Bless You.