Matthew 14:13-21

 EIGHTEENTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME – YEAR A

Commentary of Fr. Fernando Armellini

Good Sunday to all. 

In today's Gospel passage, we will listen to the story of a well-known episode because all the evangelists tell it. Mark and Matthew even relate it twice, modifying some details because they have a particular message to present. In our Bibles, this account generally appears under "Miracle of the loaves and fishes" or "Multiplication of the loaves and fishes." These are erroneous titles that immediately move us away from the message that the evangelist wants to communicate to us, so the first thing that we must do is to remove those titles. 

In the account, there is no mention of miracles or multiplications. It is simply said, and we shall see, that Jesus asked the disciples to give him all the food they had available; then, after giving thanks, he gave it back to the disciples to distribute, and the food they distributed turned out to be not only enough but superabundant to satisfy the hunger of all. Therefore, the passage does not want to teach us that Jesus is God, demonstrating that he can create loaves and fishes from nothing. The message that the evangelist intends to communicate to us is different. Let's see, first of all, in which frame Matthew places the episode: 

“When Jesus heard of it, he withdrew himself in a boat to a deserted place. The crowds heard of this and followed him on foot from their towns. When he disembarked and saw the vast crowd, his heart was moved with pity for them, and he cured their sick.” 

Let us pay attention to the episode's setting: The evangelist introduces details of little interest if we read them as if it were a chronicle. But if we interpret them correctly, as the evangelist understands them—as biblical images—we discover a text full of meanings. 

The first of these details: Jesus went to the other shore. As information, it is relatively trivial to us; we are little interested in whether the episode occurs on one shore or the other. But when a Jew speaks of a sea voyage, he evokes the exodus, the departure from the land of slavery, and the journey to freedom. The evangelist precisely means that. He tells the readers: "Beware, take heed, for Jesus is about to begin an exodus, and he invites you to follow him; he wants to take you out of the old and unlivable world where you find yourselves and bring you into a completely new world." 

Second detail: The people follow him on foot. This is a new allusion to the exodus, although it is not so direct. However, biblical scholars immediately see the reference to the exodus of the people of Israel from the land of Goshen in Egypt. The verse in Matthew's Gospel echoes the book of Exodus when describing the Israelites who leave, then tells the number of those who leave and adds that they were only men, not counting the children, exactly like the verse we find in the Gospel of Matthew. 

The third detail: They come to a desert place, but there is no desert around the lake of Tiberias; there are three beautiful and very fertile plains. This is a new reference to the exodus, the journey to a new land. 

On the other shore, Jesus is confronted by a great multitude. Then, there will be the talk of 5,000 men. We know that the number 5 symbolizes the people of Israel. When you add the three zeros, it becomes thousands, representing the totality of the people. It symbolizes the humanity Jesus encounters—the sick and wounded humanity struggling to walk. 

In the Gospel, we meet the concrete, real man, not the one of advertising. When we look at the people that Jesus meets throughout his public life, we see that they are always sick people, physically sick or spiritually sick. Here is the man that Jesus encounters: He is marked by pain. And immediately wonder: Who has undermined his humanity in this way? Did God create him this way? The answer is No. We did it ourselves. When we let ourselves be dominated by the selfish impulses within us, when we began to compete and to want to impose ourselves, to subjugate others, to see the other as a dangerous rival, that wounded humanity appears that we still contemplate today because the Gospel has not completely transformed it. Its conversion has begun, but the new humanity is yet to be built. 

The evangelist points out that Jesus felt compassion for this humanity. The verb employed is famous—σπλαγχνίζομαι (splankenitzomai)—and alludes to that God, whom we see in Jesus, who feels a visceral love for this humanity that has become evil and wants to heal it. If we follow him and trust in his proposal, today's passage tells us we will witness a wonder, a miracle. But he will not perform it; he will teach us how to achieve it ourselves. It is not he who multiplies the loaves and fishes. We must let ourselves be guided by his proposal of the New World, and then we will be witnesses of a prodigy: the birth of a beautiful world, which is God's will. Now, Matthew presents this new world to us, and he presents it to us not with reasoning but with a story and a parable. Let's listen to how it begins: 

“When it was evening, the disciples approached him and said, ‘This is a deserted place, and it is already late; dismiss the crowds so that they can go to the villages and buy food for themselves.’” 

"When it was evening" is a significant detail; the day is over, and the new day begins. When Jesus approaches this sick and wounded humanity and touches it, a new day begins, forever illuminated by his light. 

The disciples come to him and say it is late: "This is a deserted place, and it is already late; dismiss the crowds so that they can go to the villages and buy food for themselves.” This is a new reference to the exodus to the desert. The desert indicates the way of our life, a path during which we have many needs—represented in hunger, the need for food to nourish us—to which we must respond. But when we talk about our needs, our hunger, we are not only referring to bread to fill our stomachs; we are also hungry for affection, friendship, knowledge, justice, esteem; hunger for health, hunger for a home to live in, hunger for water not only for drinking but also to take care of our bodies... 

The evangelist Luke speaks of the disciples who look for food and a dwelling place because they need a roof over their heads and a bed to sleep in. Here is the problem: How do we get all these things that we need for our life to be fully human? It is precisely in the search for what we need that the proposal of the disciples now enters the scene. In Matthew's parable, the disciples represent the way of reasoning that seems logical to all of us, correct. But this is precisely the way of reasoning that guides people who build the old world. 

What is the proposal they make? Translated into simple words, it sounds like this: "These people heard your Word, your Gospel. We don't have to worry anymore; it's up to them to find the answer to their concrete needs." This is the proposal that creates the old world. Let us suppose that this proposal of the apostles, taken literally, is good. What happens is that those who have money can buy food, and they can find what they need. And those who don't have it? Those who have good legs can go where they sell what they need... And those who are sick? Then, there's somebody who comes earlier because he's more agile, has more money, and can buy not only what he needs but also the extra, leaving the others without what they need. Some know where to go... And those who have no knowledge and are lost? Here, on the lips of the disciples, we find the synthesis of the erroneous proposal made by people to satisfy their needs; the logic of the market: buying and selling. Undoubtedly, the exchange of goods is necessary for our lives. God has not made us self-sufficient; we need the goods others possess, and others need the goods we possess. 

This exchange is necessary. Now, what logic should this exchange follow? There is the logic that we find in the mouth of the apostles. In the old world, in the world of death, people consider themselves owners of the goods they hold. So what do they do? They start trading, buying, selling, making money in the stock market, and, of course, speculating on the needs that are around them. Depending on those needs, they can increase the price and thus become richer. In this market logic, the needs are blessed, and if hunger increases, goods increase in value... and then the person can get richer. 

But this logic, what does it create? A paradise or a vale of tears? It establishes that society based on trade, guided by the law of the market, gives rise to the world we live in, a world of misery, abuse, violence, and even cruelty and wars, a world in which there are the rich gluttons, who squander, and with them, the beaten of history. It is not the banquet of the kingdom of God; it is the world of weeping and gnashing of teeth. This is the world created by the logic that the evangelist has put in the mouth of the disciples. 

Let us now listen to what Jesus thinks of this proposal made by the apostles: 

“Jesus said to them, ‘There is no need for them to go away; give them some food yourselves.’ But they said to him, ‘Five loaves and two fish are all we have here.’ Then he said, ‘Bring them here to me.’” 

The exchange of goods is necessary for our lives because no one is self-sufficient; nobody has all the goods one needs. What is the problem? On what logic should this exchange take place? And the twelve have made their proposal, which is the one accepted by all and considered correct; that is, go to the seller and buy. Jesus does not accept that this logic should regulate the exchange. Jesus substitutes the verbs to buy and to sell for the verbs to give and to deliver. 

Why does Jesus not accept the logic of the free market exchange? Because it is based on a lie. One has the right to sell something that belongs to him, but the First Letter of Timothy, in chapter 6, makes us reflect and says that we have brought nothing into this world and can take nothing with us. He goes on to say that when we have something to eat and cover ourselves with, let's be happy because if we start buying and selling, that is, accumulating and getting richer and richer, we create many problems. He also says that greed for money is the root of all evils, all wars, and all injustices because they arise from this lie that somebody feels that he owns the goods that he has and, therefore, has the right to sell them to the highest bidder. 

Psalm 24, in the first verse, says: "The earth is the Lord's and what it contains, the universe and its inhabitants." The possessive adjectives are all a lie, for nothing is 'mine,' nothing is 'yours,' nothing is 'ours.' We have goods that have recipients, and Jesus says that it is not the buying and selling that is the correct logic but the giving and the sharing. The consequence of the proposed logic by the apostles is almsgiving. In Mark's version of this narrative, the disciples also propose to Jesus: "Let us go and buy 200 denarii of bread to give a little to answer these people." Almsgiving and assistance are not bad but a necessary stopgap in the old world ruled by buying and selling. In the old world, one becomes very rich—according to the logic accepted by everybody, which starts from a lie— and to solve the problems of inequity, one appeals to alms. Almsgiving does not create the new world willed by God; we must change the logic that presides over the exchange. 

"Give them some food yourselves.” The apostles do not understand and answer: “Five loaves and two fish are all we have here.” This is the doubt; what we have is not enough; this world's goods are few, and if this question enters people's minds, then the answer that there will never be enough will be accepted. And then, one begins to grab as much as one can. We've all heard that "you never know what's going to happen," "anything can happen," and “that's why I must think of myself and my family first." And from that comes the urge to hoard more and more. It is the temptation that the Jews had in the wilderness when they were not content with the manna of that day, but they also wanted it for the following days. And what happened? The hoard formed worms. Jesus, with much sense, says in the Lord's Prayer: "Give us this day our daily bread." Because if we begin to hoard because we do not know what can happen, we take possession of an infinity of goods and take them away from those who need them. 

What does Jesus say to the Twelve? "Bring them here to me." Bring those five loaves and those two fish. It's an imperative. And when Jesus commands, it means that he senses that there is resistance from the other side, that is, that there is not much willingness to deliver the goods to his project. Everybody wants to manage his goods according to his criteria, which are those of buying and selling. It is repugnant to our instinct not to hold on to goods. "Bring them here to me," says Jesus; let Jesus administer the goods you hold in your hands according to the new logic. 

What are those five loaves and two fish? They are the parable of all our goods: five plus two are seven, and we know that, in the Bible, the number 7 indicates completeness. When all the goods are given to the new logic of Jesus, then a prodigy will occur, and we shall see it shortly: The birth of the world willed by the Creator. Let us hear: 

“Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. He took the five loaves and the two fish and looked up to heaven, said the blessing, broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, who gave them to the crowds.” 

Jesus did not explain with reasoning the new logic that he wanted to introduce in the world so that the kingdom of God may come forth, but he made some very significant gestures, and we want to examine them to grasp the precious message they contain. 

First, he commanded the crowd to lie down on the grass. The Greek verb used is ἀνακλιθῆναι (anaklizenai), which does not mean to sit "but to lie down." The Lord wants people to lie down, and here we have a first surprise: the wilderness has disappeared, and we are in a meadow with green grass on which one can lie down; an oasis has appeared. The night has also disappeared. There is no darkness because now everything that happens seems to take place in the sunlight. It is seen that we are before a parable: where Jesus arrives with his Gospel, the earthly paradise appears. The story of the Garden of Eden is not the lament of a lost paradise but the project that God wants to be realized in the world, a project that we are called to realize. And it is not an unattainable dream. If the evil convinces us that Jesus was a dreamer, he has won, but the true believer knows Jesus is right, and God's plan for the world will be realized. And, if we give faith to his proposal, this wonder is discovered. 

Then, we ask why Jesus makes them lie down on the green grass. Why can't each one eat as he prefers, sitting or standing? No; now they must lie down. This is an essential detail in the parable because, in Jesus' time, those who assumed this position were the masters. During the Passover night, the Israelites lay down for the Passover meal because, in this way, they declared that they were a free people. Who reclined at the table, the servants or the masters? The servants had to be always ready to serve; when the master was lying down and needed a specific service to be performed, he would raise his voice. Jesus also asks his disciples during the Last Supper: Who is great? Is it the one lying down or the one standing? And they all answer the one reclining at the table, the Master. He is the important one. 

Here, we are faced with the inversion of greatness. Jesus asks: Who is the master? And he says that the master is the needy, the poor, the hungry. These are the people to be served, and the servants who receive orders for these people's needs are Christ's disciples. This is how greatness is turned around; formerly great were those who were reclining at the table; now, the masters who give orders are the needy; it is the needs of the brother that gives orders to the disciple of Christ, who is truly great if he becomes a servant. 

After these people lie down, Jesus makes some significant gestures; he takes the five loaves and the two fishes, which in the parable indicate all the good things that the heavenly Father has made available to his children, and he lifts his eyes to heaven. To lift his eyes to God means to recognize that the food for our life comes from God; we are not masters, and we cannot trade with them to enrich ourselves by taking advantage of the hunger of those in need. 

Then, he pronounces the blessing, recognizing that the source of life is God. We are not the organizers of the banquet; we are diners. Raising our eyes to heaven and blessing means recognizing that all the goods we have at our disposal are not objects of possession but gifts from the Creator to build love. And now we could also wisely ask ourselves: If we dispense with God if we dispense with looking up to heaven as those who shout their atheism glory to do (of which I do not know to what extent they are convinced), if we do away with God, if we eliminate looking at heaven, on what basis can we affirm that we cannot take the goods of this world and do with them whatever we want? Without God, everything would indicate that we can do it according to our abilities, even if it means provoking and increasing the needs of the poor. If we dispense with God, who can prevent us from doing such a thing? For if the goods are ours, we can do whatever we want with them, but if the goods belong to God, every time we look at heaven, we understand that we are not the masters. Then everything changes. 

What does Jesus do next? He breaks bread. To break bread means to be willing to share and distribute it; the bread is broken to be shared, and the one who breaks the bread declares that his heart is open to the gift. It is open to gratuitous love, and then Jesus gives it to the disciples because they are the servants to feed the needy, their masters. When the logic of the Gospel is accepted, the ferocious laws of the market abandon the scene, and God's logic enters the story. All share the good things the heavenly Father has prepared for all his sons and daughters. 

Let us now listen to what happens when the goods of this world are administered according to the logic of the Gospel: 

“They all ate and were satisfied, and they picked up the fragments left over—twelve wicker baskets full. Those who ate were about five thousand men, not counting women and children.” 

What happens if the proposal of Jesus of Nazareth is accepted? The parable tells us: a prodigy. All the needs of humanity will be satisfied because God's goods are more than enough so that every person has everything necessary for their life. We seek joy; this impulse exists, and God has put it there; the mistake is in deceiving ourselves, thinking that we can attain joy by stuffing ourselves with good things. We are not programmed for this; we are programmed to experience the maximum joy by making each other happy and exchanging the Creator's gifts. 

Finally, let us look at the gathering of the leftovers. In the logic of the Gospel, nothing can be wasted; everything is a gift of God, and to waste the gifts is a sign of contempt for the one who put them at our disposal. We know what happens in our society; it is said that one-third of the food produced is wasted. We spend resources on perfectly useless products imposed by fashion not to satisfy real basic needs but to induce needs. Thus, we squander God's gifts, and many are left deprived of necessities; we waste food, water, and energy; we have closets full of clothes that we put on maybe once or twice a year; we change our cell phones not because they don't work but because otherwise, they tell us, "You still have a 3-year-old cell phone; aren't you ashamed?" Fashions dictate this profligacy; we only use a small part of what we buy; we know that the rest is thrown away because, when we go to the supermarket to buy something that we need, the products are arranged in such a way we always buy something we don't know what to do with. Let's try going into a child's room. What do we see? He used many toys maybe two or three times and then got tired of them. Let's also think about what we find in the garbage heaps; we get rid of the objects that still work, that only have a defect, and that are out of fashion. 

The evangelist has presented precisely the gestures performed by Jesus, and we have examined them: he lifted his eyes to heaven, he pronounced the blessing, he broke the bread, he gave it. We also realize immediately that these are the same gestures with which Jesus instituted the Eucharist. The evangelist Matthew emphasized them on purpose to remind the Christians of his communities that only if they celebrate an authentic Eucharist will they be able to administer the goods according to the will of the Creator, and they will become servants of the needy. 

In the first account, we observe that the wilderness and then the night disappeared. The evangelist also makes the fish disappear; only the bread remains. Matthew wants us to establish the connection between breaking the material bread and celebrating the Eucharist. If we do not share the material bread or become servants of our brothers in need, our Eucharistic celebrations are hypocritical rituals. 

What did Jesus do at the Last Supper? At one point, he took bread from the table and said to his disciples, "This is me." He identified his whole life and whole story by making himself bread, the food of life for everyone who needed it. And he added, "Take and eat," that is, make up your mind to take this bread, which contains all my love story, and assimilate this love story, make it your own. 

When we approach the Eucharistic banquet, we accept his proposal of surrendered life; we want to unite our life to his as the bride unites her life to that of the bridegroom. It means accepting his world project and committing ourselves to the new logic of sharing and service. Let us think, then, that every time we approach the Eucharistic banquet and eat that bread, we renounce the logic of the market, and we accept only the logic of love we have seen incarnated in the life of Jesus, who became bread. 

I wish you all a good Sunday and a good week.