The texts from the Roman Catholic Lectionary today invite us to contemplate some layers of meaning that may be beyond the surface of our appreciation.
Feeding our needs |
The passage from the First Book of Kings describes Jeroboam’s cultic innovations that may have been misunderstood in Judah.
* [12:26–31] At the center of the story of Jeroboam the narrator describes how the king went beyond the political separation of Israel from Judah to create a separatist religious system as well. Jeroboam feared that continued worship in the single Temple in Jerusalem would threaten the political independence of his kingdom. To prevent this he established sanctuaries with non-levitical clergy in his own territory. At two of the sanctuaries he set up golden calves, which the narrator depicts as idols. Thus begins what will later be called “the sin of Jeroboam” (13:34), a theme that will be echoed throughout 1–2 Kings in the condemnations of almost every king of the Northern Kingdom. Historically, Jeroboam’s innovations were not as heterodox as our narrative portrays them. Bethel was an ancient and traditional site for worship of the Lord; and the calves were probably intended to be a dais for the deity invisibly enthroned upon them, rather like the cherubim atop the ark of the covenant.1
Psalm 106 invites national repentance by reciting from Israel’s history instances of sin, judgment, and forgiveness.
* [Psalm 106] Israel is invited to praise the God whose mercy has always tempered judgment of Israel (Ps 106:1–3). The speaker, on behalf of all, seeks solidarity with the people, who can always count on God’s fidelity despite their sin (Ps 106:4–5). Confident of God’s mercy, the speaker invites national repentance (Ps 106:6) by reciting from Israel’s history instances of sin, judgment, and forgiveness. The sins are the rebellion at the Red Sea (Ps 106:6–12; see Ex 14–15),... the golden calf episode (Ps 106:19–23; see Ex 32–34),2
In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus feeding the four thousand addresses needs of the Gentiles.
* [8:1–10] The two accounts of the multiplication of loaves and fishes (Mk 8:1–10; 6:31–44) have eucharistic significance. Their similarity of structure and themes but dissimilarity of detail are considered by many to refer to a single event that, however, developed in two distinct traditions, one Jewish Christian and the other Gentile Christian, since Jesus in Mark’s presentation (Mk 7:24–37) has extended his saving mission to the Gentiles.3
Andy Alexander, S.J. comments that the Gospel text is a miracle for sure, but also a message. When we feel empty and discouraged - in whatever situation we find ourselves - we can bring what we have - no matter how poor it seems - and Jesus will take it and bless it and break it to be distributed.
I can't recount the number of times I've experienced my poverty in doing something and discovered that when I surrendered my control of it all and let go to let Jesus work through me, the result was far beyond what I could have accomplished on my own. Seven baskets of leftovers more.
We might be tempted to respond that we've experienced turning something over to Jesus and didn't get what we hoped, or didn't experience any "miracle." I have had that experience as well. I think that is when we bring our brokenness and weariness and fragility and inability to dare to hope any more in the Eucharist. That is where Jesus takes our ordinary offering and transforms it to feed us with his body and blood. He feeds us with his sacrifice of himself on the Cross. He nourishes us with the gift of life everlasting. It is his mercy on my sin and the sins of the world. And, it is his holy communion with us that not only comforts us - that we know we are not alone - but consecrates us with a union with him which allows us to be like him, even with him, in bringing faith and life to other discouraging desert situations. When I move from "Where's my miracle?" to giving thanks and praise for receiving the gift of union with Jesus in the Eucharist, grace happens. And, there will be seven baskets of leftovers.4
Don Schwager quotes “Breaking the bread of God's Word,” by Saint Augustine of Hippo, 354-430 A.D.
"In expounding to you the Holy Scriptures, I as it were break bread for you. If you hunger to receive it, your heart will sing out with the fullness of praise (Psalm 138:1). If you are thus made rich in your banquet, be not meager in good works and deeds. What I am distributing to you is not my own. What you eat, I eat; what you live upon, I live upon. We have in heaven a common store-house - from it comes the Word of God." (excerpt from SERMONS ON NEW TESTAMENT LESSONS 45.1)5
The Word Among Us Meditation on Mark 8:1-10 declares it is absolutely astounding that today, Jesus still gives thanks for whatever little we offer him. He blesses it and multiplies it, just as he did two thousand years ago. Of course, we see this every time we celebrate the Mass, but it happens in so many other ways as well.
Then start with whatever simple act you can. Spend some extra time praying for conversions. Try to listen more patiently to people. Help someone in need. Along the way, God will refine your understanding of what he wants and teach you how best to serve him. The results won’t be instantaneous; maybe you’ll never see the difference you are making. But just as Jesus multiplied the fish and loaves, you can trust that whatever you offer him, he will give thanks for it, bless it, and multiply it!6
Friar Jude Winkler connects the disdain expressed in Jeroboam’s actions to the social tension between the northern and southern kingdoms at the time when the stories of the Exodus were being compiled. The perfect meal for the needs of the Gentiles is offered by Jesus. Friar Jude reminds us that Jesus is enough to feed everyone.
Fr. Richard Rohr, OFM, introduces depth psychologist David G. Benner who offers a framing of Christian contemplative practices in a way that can help deepen our experience of them.
The Christian forms of meditation bring us to the question of the relationship between meditation and prayer. This is an important question because I think there are limits to what meditation can, in itself, accomplish that are overcome when meditation is placed within a context of prayer.Contemplative prayer always requires hospitality to your deep self, to the deep parts of your self. It demands the openness to receive whatever might arise in you and then gently release it into God’s hands. But in prayer you are not alone as you open yourself to whatever might emerge. You do so in a relationship that provides a safety and support in holding whatever emerges. That which arises might come with a flood of emotional intensity. Sometimes, being still before self and God releases a torrent of emotions. Tears may be intermixed with joy. . . . But whatever emerges in silence and stillness before God emerges in the place within you in which you are held within God. It emerges, therefore, within the context of prayer, whether or not you are thinking of God or talking to God. Your openness to God makes it prayer.7
Our action to address the needs of others is an expression of our participation in the life giving mission of Jesus.
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