“That evening the disciples came to Jesus and said, ‘This place is like a desert, and it’s already late. Let the crowds leave, so they can go to the villages and buy some food.’ Jesus replied, ‘They don’t have to leave. Why don’t you give them something to eat?’ But they said, ‘We have only five small loaves of bread and two fish.’” (Matthew 14:15-17)
You’re right. This is not the stuff we usually hear from Matthew at this time of year. It isn’t the genealogy (Jesus’s family tree), or the annunciation (an angel came to Mary), or Joseph’s dream (marry Mary, it’ll be fine). This ‘feeding the 5000’ — give or take a few thousand, in light of “not counting women and children” — is not among the verses we usually read during the Advent and Christmas seasons. But if we’re considering Advent in a time of starvation, it works its way onto the list for now, among the feel-good moments and greeting card images.
Having learned of the death of his friend John the Baptist (also not a holiday verse!), Jesus tries to take a moment away. But a crowd follows, and the disciples are annoyed. In an effort to give themselves a break, too, they’re eager to send away the gathered crowd. Who has the energy to care for all these people when we have our own things to worry about?
Jesus responds, “YOU give them something to eat.”
“But we only have a couple of fish and this bit of bread,” the disciples say.
But our country cannot possibly support the long-term funding agreements we’ve held for decades, for a reason that’s never really named. (So let the food rot in the fields and the medicine spoil in the loading docks.)
But our leadership has no desire to answer the questions you’re asking. (So we’ll derail the conversation and make sure no one gets anything done.)
But our supporters have spent countless dollars to ensure that your insecurities and panic will keep us snug in our jobs and benefits packages, so it doesn’t really matter whether we tend to yours or not. (So healthcare schmealthcare, let them eat cake.)
When we have created — and allowed — a world where the fearmongering of scarcity is rewarded far and above the possibility of abundance, we are indeed facing Advent in a time of starvation.
The Capitol Christmas Tree is seen alit outside the U.S. Capitol building in Washington, D.C., on December 3, 2024. (Aaron Schwartz/Sipa USA/Alamy Live News)
When the disciples and those gathered finally show what they have — fish, loaves, a bit here and there — Jesus takes it, blesses it, breaks it, and shares it. And there is enough, and more than enough, to feed the whole gathering and then some. Unsettling what is, and looking to what can be.
For Christians the world over, Advent is a season of unsettled expectation and waiting. And here we are. Waiting indeed.
Waiting for leaders focused less on clinging to power and more on grasping the good news of the gospel. Waiting for plans that involve less gold-plating and furniture and more commitment to human dignity and flourishing. Waiting for systems less consumed by shackling dissent and more insistent on liberating justice. Waiting for greatness to be less about look-at-me and more about who-are-we.
So we are here in Advent, waiting. And likely, Jesus is waiting too. Waiting — on us.
Rev. Courtney Richards is an ordained minister in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). A proud graduate of Brite Divinity School at TCU, after 25 years in congregational ministry, she currently serves as the Communications and Development Manager for the Disciples’ Week of Compassion.
NOTE: This is part of our Unsettling Advent devotionals running Nov. 30-Dec. 24. You can subscribe for free and receive them each morning in your inbox.
