“Another of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, spoke up, “Here is a little boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish, but how far will they go among so many?” John 6:9
I wish I could have heard the back and forth between Jesus and his disciples that evening. Certainly, everyone was tired. It had been a long, surprising day. When a flash mob of 5,000 shows up, ministry gets interesting. No one had made provisions for the day; no bases were covered, everyone just appeared. Jesus uses the opportunity to demonstrate the extravagance of God’s unfettered, providential hand, and point out that he alone offers “the bread of life” (John 6: 35-40). The miracle of the feeding of the 5,000 also gives us insight into how a small sacrifice can make a powerful, eternal impact. It is a case study into a giver’s heart.
One of my friends put it out there recently, in her typically direct style; “People are either takers or givers,” she said, leaving little room for dissension. Givers think about ways to help and offer them up. Their hearts beat with ideas to make things happen; to make things better. Their giving is motivated by something deeper than prestige, power, or pleasing others. Believing givers connect the open hand of God’s grace with the open hand of giving.
Yet on this day, when the disciples pressed through the crowd asking people if they had any food they could share, there was little response. In a crowd of 5,000 men, plus women and children, a young boy is the only one to surrender his lunch to Jesus’ bigger purpose. Really?
I’ve always wondered about this. Only one boy brought his lunch in such a vast crowd? Most moms prepare for the inevitable when it comes to outings with their husbands and children. Surely some of them had packed a few loaves and some cheese in case this trip to see the new teacher became a long one.
“But there’s only just enough for us,” they may have thought. “How can we possibly share?” The menace of hunger gnaws at our core, and everyone knows hangry children are a pain. Whatever reason lies behind their reluctance, they keep what they have. Only one boy steps forward. Only one essentially says, “Go ahead, eat my lunch.”
That boy’s words made an eternal difference. Although the miracle of the feeding of the 5,000 is recorded in all four Gospels, only John includes the stunning detail that the five barley loaves and two fish that fed a megachurch of people came from a small boy. That detail is all we know about this boy, but his sacrificial gift speaks volumes. It speaks to Christ’s calling in our lives. Here are some of the ways that calling plays out:
We’re called to respond to Christ’s words. Jesus overtly teaches about the generosity of heart his followers are marked by. They give out cups of cold water, of all sorts, to the sick, imprisoned, and abandoned. They spread seeds of the gospel freely and generously by using earthly treasure, surrendered to the Holy Spirit, to plant heavenly crops. Sacrificial giving honors Jesus’ gift to his own. It marks them.
We’re called to believe in the miraculous. Most of us don’t expect miracles, but Jesus’ ability to move mountains has not changed. When a needful circumstance presents, and we give sacrificially, we acknowledge Jesus' position as creative, mysterious, almighty God. We acknowledge that he is able to do “above and beyond what we can ask or imagine” (Ephesians 3:20). We don’t know what the rest of the 5,000 in the crowd thought about Jesus, but the boy seemed to understand. Jesus was different. When Jesus’ disciples asked for food, he gave what he had. Unlike others (per the verse above), he didn’t listen to an internal dialogue that said such a small lunch wouldn’t matter. He didn’t overanalyze and convince himself his gift couldn’t help so he better keep it. He just gave his lunch. Believers shaped by Jesus’ words live out the truth that he was fully God and fully man by what they do. Actions speak loudly, and proclaim our belief in Jesus’ divinity. Sacrificial giving does that.
We’re called to work out our faith. Faith is a muscle. When we work muscles, internal muscle tissue tears slightly. This tearing causes soreness, and signals our hormonal system to initiate repair work. As muscle tissue repairs, it grows stronger and denser. In a similar way, as we respond to Christ’s callings, our faith increases. Giving molds us into thinking less about what we can do and more about what God does. It challenges us. Sacrificial giving, like the boy offering his lunch, makes us rely on God more than ourselves. We stop listening to internal dialogue that undermines our choices. We get the deep, clear sense things will be alright, that God will take care of things. That sense is faith.
It’s hard to quantify the impact those five loaves and two fish have had. The boy’s willingness to give changed the course of history. His sacrifice fed many that day, and continues to nourish us today. His giving echoes the heart of one who came as a boy some 30 years before him, with the sole purpose of giving his absolute all for God's glory and our good. That boy, Jesus Christ, gave us the gift that cost the most–hope.
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Crystal is a Christ-follower, wife, mother, counselor, and friend. She is passionate about connecting others with the truth of God's miraculous power and sustaining presence.
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