A Reflection for Monday of the Eighteenth Week in Ordinary Time
“There is no need for them to go away.” (Mt 14:16)
Find today’s readings here.
When I was in grad school, I worked as a receptionist at Newman Hall-Holy Spirit Parish in Berkeley, Calif. The university parish, which the Paulists ran when I attended, regularly welcomed those in need into their dining hall through a ministry called “Loaves and Fishes.” This wasn’t a simple soup line. One Saturday a month, the parish hosted a celebration, treating those experiencing homelessness or facing other hard times to a delicious dinner, often featuring live entertainment. That was 20 years ago, but as far as I know, that outreach continues.
That one weekend a month, the parish just felt a little different. Some parishioners, frankly, seemed uncomfortable sharing the space with our monthly visitors. But others seemed to walk a little faster and smile a little bigger. The community was always joyful, but the “Loaves and Fishes” weekends were even more so.
I cannot read today’s Gospel without thinking of this parish outreach.
You can tell this story was an important one for the early church. The Miracle of the Loaves and the Fish is relayed in all four Gospels. It’s been poured over by Scripture scholars for millenia, but this is what stood out to me most recently:
It was logical, as the disciples suggested, to dismiss the crowds so they could feed themselves at nearby villages. But God doesn’t always call on us to do the next “logical” thing. At Newman Hall, I knew of some who believed the ministry was redundant and excessive. Why not allow those in need of food to find it at another church or shelter? Or Why prepare only one gourmet meal a month when you could provide more meals for the same price more often?
They were logical criticisms. Those in need could have found food elsewhere. Or the ministry could have made many more simple meals. But God seemed to have other plans.
At Newman Hall, I witnessed transformations. The guests who arrived, down on their luck, left with their chins up, their bellies full and hearty smiles. The volunteers recognized and emphasized their dignity. Their dignity was always there. They just needed to be reminded of it.
The volunteers themselves would sometimes spend five or six hours preparing the food, setting the tables, hosting the meal and cleaning up afterwards. Not to mention the hours spent beforehand setting the menu and gathering the necessary materials. But in the years I worked there, I never heard a single volunteer regret their time spent serving others. Most volunteers came back, month after month, to do it again.
I don’t know exactly why Jesus kept the crowds there. In part, I think, it’s because all of these people wanted to be with him. And he wasn’t about to send them away just because they were hungry. I saw that welcoming heart exemplified at Newman Hall—an answer to God’s call to community. The ministry made a lasting impression on me. Logical or not, God calls us all to cultivate hearts of welcome and hospitality, especially for those who are rejected elsewhere.
