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Sunday
Today’s Gospel reading features the only miracle performed by Jesus that appears in all four Gospels (other than the resurrection, of course). Here’s the loaves and fishes account that appears in John, along with a wonderful updated version of it set in Depression America.
First, the passage in John:
Jesus went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, also called the Sea of Tiberias. A large crowd kept following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing for the sick. Jesus went up the mountain and sat down there with his disciples. Now the Passover, the festival of the Jews, was near. When he looked up and saw a large crowd coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?” He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he was going to do. Philip answered him, “Six months’ wages would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little.” One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?” Jesus said, “Make the people sit down.” Now there was a great deal of grass in the place; so they sat down, about five thousand in all. Then Jesus took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated; so also the fish, as much as they wanted. When they were satisfied, he told his disciples, “Gather up the fragments left over, so that nothing may be lost.” So they gathered them up, and from the fragments of the five barley loaves, left by those who had eaten, they filled twelve baskets. When the people saw the sign that he had done, they began to say, “This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world.”
And now Liskey’s story of a Depression miracle. I like the poem’s down-to-earth version of purifying and sanctifying incense, symbolic of our prayers rising to the heavens.
Unexpected
By Tom Darin Liskey
Momma used to say
That when Jesus turned the
Loaves and fish
Into a picnic
For those hungry folks
In the wilderness
The God blessed victuals
Tasted like mouth watering
Mississippi catfish
Deep fried in the best store bought meal
Served with a healthy side helping
Of iron skillet cornbread—
Bread so fine that
No one asked for butter or honey
And nary a crumb hit the ground.
She grew up an orphan
In the Great Depression,
Where low cotton prices
And bad weather
Killed farms and families—
Times, she remembered, so hard
That sometimes even dinner
Was a miracle
And prayers offered
At the evening meal
Wafted in the air
Thick as coal oil smoke
In the fragrance of gratefulness.
