Guest blogger: Joe Barone - "...and two small fish"
When Jesus looked up and saw a great crowd coming toward him, he said to Philip, “Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?” He asked this only to test him, for he already had in mind what he was going to do. Philip answered him, “Eight months’ wages would not buy enough bread for each one to have a bite!” Another of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, spoke up, “Here is a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish, but how far will they go among so many?” (John 6:5-9)
Two fish. Five rolls. Ever wonder what the boy experienced as he watched Jesus feed the five thousand? Wonder what he thought as the basket left his hands and was blessed by the Rabbi? In the midst of this grand assembly, he was so close, so involved and so blessed. His story might go like this:
Leaving the village this morning, watching the sun slowly shedding its light and warmth on the new day, I gave little thought to what might lie ahead. Not unlike so many previous days, I was obediently making the trip to the marketplace in Bethsaida, on the Sea of Galilee. My father and older brother were already working the field, and mother was tending to the needs of baby sister. I'd grown to enjoy the activity at the market, making my way among the sellers, mingling with other villagers and friends. But today was noticeably different. A lot more commotion, a lot more people, a lot less shopping. Men, women, children by-passing the marketplace, heading to the waterfront.
The fisherman's wife told me “the teacher” was coming. The baker excitedly announced that the “miracle worker” – the one who was called Jesus, was about to arrive. Even in our small village, we had heard of this man – so wise, filled with much power and love. It would be a thrill to see Him.
I arrived just as He and His disciples brought their boat ashore. Jesus immediately had compassion on the sick and healed them, all the while teaching everyone about what He called the Kingdom of God. My spirit raced within me. What a time of blessing, a time of love, a time of hope. I was overwhelmed with being so close.
Time passed so quickly. Evening was approaching, but no one left. With all the excitement and celebration, the thought of food or traveling home seemed of little concern, except to Him. I overheard His conversation with the disciples about the need to feed those who had gathered. The one called Philip said, “Eight month's wages would not buy enough bread for each one to have a bite!” Then quickly, their voices faded as something overcame me.
The palms gripping my basket got very sweaty. Thoughts of the insignificance of what was in it flashed across my mind. As my heart raced and my legs shook, I approached the one called Andrew and extended to him my basket and its meager contents. I stood motionless as Jesus took the fish and the loaves. With a warm smile on His face, raising His eyes Heavenward, Jesus gave thanks while breaking the bread. He gave pieces to the disciples, who gave pieces to all the people. I was in awe of Jesus' poise and control as He fed so many with so little. I was even more amazed when they gathered 12 baskets of leftovers after the “feast” was done.
As best I could with an overflowing basket, I excitedly raced home, overflowing even more with words of joy as to what happened that day...about “the teacher,” “the healer,” the fish and the loaves in the hands of the one called the Christ.
All too often, I feel that I have so little to offer--and I do---until the “gift” passes through the hands of the giver, our Lord, Jesus. I pray that this paraphrase encourages you to look beyond your “gifts” and focus on the author and perfecter of them. Does what YOU have to give seem insignificant? Give it anyway! Let HIM make it significant.
Two fish. Five rolls. Ever wonder what the boy experienced as he watched Jesus feed the five thousand? Wonder what he thought as the basket left his hands and was blessed by the Rabbi? In the midst of this grand assembly, he was so close, so involved and so blessed. His story might go like this:
Leaving the village this morning, watching the sun slowly shedding its light and warmth on the new day, I gave little thought to what might lie ahead. Not unlike so many previous days, I was obediently making the trip to the marketplace in Bethsaida, on the Sea of Galilee. My father and older brother were already working the field, and mother was tending to the needs of baby sister. I'd grown to enjoy the activity at the market, making my way among the sellers, mingling with other villagers and friends. But today was noticeably different. A lot more commotion, a lot more people, a lot less shopping. Men, women, children by-passing the marketplace, heading to the waterfront.
The fisherman's wife told me “the teacher” was coming. The baker excitedly announced that the “miracle worker” – the one who was called Jesus, was about to arrive. Even in our small village, we had heard of this man – so wise, filled with much power and love. It would be a thrill to see Him.
I arrived just as He and His disciples brought their boat ashore. Jesus immediately had compassion on the sick and healed them, all the while teaching everyone about what He called the Kingdom of God. My spirit raced within me. What a time of blessing, a time of love, a time of hope. I was overwhelmed with being so close.
Time passed so quickly. Evening was approaching, but no one left. With all the excitement and celebration, the thought of food or traveling home seemed of little concern, except to Him. I overheard His conversation with the disciples about the need to feed those who had gathered. The one called Philip said, “Eight month's wages would not buy enough bread for each one to have a bite!” Then quickly, their voices faded as something overcame me.
The palms gripping my basket got very sweaty. Thoughts of the insignificance of what was in it flashed across my mind. As my heart raced and my legs shook, I approached the one called Andrew and extended to him my basket and its meager contents. I stood motionless as Jesus took the fish and the loaves. With a warm smile on His face, raising His eyes Heavenward, Jesus gave thanks while breaking the bread. He gave pieces to the disciples, who gave pieces to all the people. I was in awe of Jesus' poise and control as He fed so many with so little. I was even more amazed when they gathered 12 baskets of leftovers after the “feast” was done.
As best I could with an overflowing basket, I excitedly raced home, overflowing even more with words of joy as to what happened that day...about “the teacher,” “the healer,” the fish and the loaves in the hands of the one called the Christ.
All too often, I feel that I have so little to offer--and I do---until the “gift” passes through the hands of the giver, our Lord, Jesus. I pray that this paraphrase encourages you to look beyond your “gifts” and focus on the author and perfecter of them. Does what YOU have to give seem insignificant? Give it anyway! Let HIM make it significant.
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