The Paradox of Plenty: Why Jesus Wants Your Little
A Scripture Reflection on Mark 6:34-44
If your first instinct is “send them away,” you’re not reading this story closely enough.
When he disembarked and saw the vast crowd, his heart was moved with pity for them, for they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things. By now it was already late and his disciples approached him and said, “This is a deserted place and it is already very late. Send them away so that they can go find themselves something to eat somewhere else.” He said to them in reply, “Give them some food yourselves.” But they said to him, “Are we to buy two hundred denarii worth of food and give it to them to eat?” He asked them, “How many loaves do you have? Go and see.” And when they had found out they said, “Five loaves and two fish.” So he gave orders to have them sit down in groups on the green grass. The people took their places in rows by hundreds and by fifties. Then, taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he said the blessing, broke the loaves, and gave them to his disciples to set before the people; he also divided the two fish among them all. They all ate and were satisfied. And they picked up twelve wicker baskets full of fragments and what was left of the fish. Those who ate were five thousand men. Mark 6:34-44 (New American Bible Revised Edition NABRE).
Sometimes I just want to “get the needs out of my face.” I don’t call it that, of course. I call it “being realistic” or “protecting my bandwidth” or “I just need a minute.” But do you know that feeling when it’s coming at you from every direction—like you’re running a triage unit and the waiting room is your own life? This person needs a decision. That person needs a favor. Somebody wants an answer. Somebody wants a ride. Somebody wants reassurance. My wife needs me to handle something I’ve been postponing because it’s complicated and I’m tired. Work needs me to step into a situation that should not be my problem, except it is. The kids need things that don’t politely line up—help with something real, “fairness” adjudicated like it’s case law—which means I’m now the judge, the chauffeur, and the calendar manager. I spend the day moving needs from one place to another, trying to keep everybody fed and steady, and underneath it all is that unflattering thought: I want the needs gone. I want the noise gone. I want to be left alone. Please, not one more request. Not one more person needing something.
If I’m honest, it was the disciples’ line, “Send them away so they can go find food somewhere else” that hit home. It resonates loudly.
