The crowds were amazed when they saw the mute speaking,
the deformed made whole, the lame walking, and the blind able to see, and they glorified the God of Israel.
Jesus summoned his disciples and said,
“My heart is moved with pity for the crowd,
for they have been with me now for three days
and have nothing to eat.
I do not want to send them away hungry,
for fear they may collapse on the way.”
The disciples said to him,
“Where could we ever get enough bread in this deserted place
to satisfy such a crowd?”
Jesus said to them, “How many loaves do you have?”
“Seven,” they replied, “and a few fish.”
He ordered the crowd to sit down on the ground.
Then he took the seven loaves and the fish,
gave thanks, broke the loaves,
and gave them to the disciples, who in turn gave them to the crowds.
They all ate and were satisfied.
They picked up the fragments left over – seven baskets full.
¶
God whose heart breaks, even with ours
Here we are,
on our way,
in a crowd we hardly recognize.
We didn’t plan very well:
Your words and works have stirred us beyond level-headed-ness.
In response, we follow you in a stumbling way
You know better than we do how close or far we are to collapse.
You know better than we do how much and for how much we hunger.
This is all we can offer you: our hunger.
Our leaders have a little something,
But their charts and graphs tell them it’s not enough.
(Who can blame them? They know hunger makes people unruly.)
¶
Who are you that you can show up in our lives
and ask of us only what we can’t keep hidden from you any longer?
How is it possible that you meet us
in deserted places?
Why do we listen to you when you invite us to sit down on the ground
like the cracked earth is actually some kind of banquet table?
And then, and then! How do you see our emptiness and give thanks?
How do you break open what doesn’t seem to matter?
How is it that you dumbfound us into eating together,
this intimate act of taking into our bodies what will strengthen us
and doing so unsheltered, in the midst of strangers, but without shame?
This we are not accustomed to. This makes us ask questions.
You who takes what’s not enough,
who confounds our expectations
and frustrates our preferences,
and somehow, miraculously, satisfies —
What would you have us do with these perfect fragments
that we’re picking up but so far only tucking away in baskets?
This is all we can offer you: our hunger.
by Z. M. Willette
