More than a Meal
The view feels eerily familiar. As the calendar fills, I tend to recoil. In trying to do all the things, I find that life stretches wide but also becomes quite shallow.
And when I grow starved for depth, my hunger pains often lead me to missing the more within the meal.
In John’s biography of Jesus’s life, we read how Jesus feeds some five thousand plus people with little supply, yet all of them leave filled to the full… sort of. When Jesus leaves and their hunger pains return, they chase after him to try and grab another meal.
When they found him beside the lake, they said to him, ‘Rabbi, when did you come here?’
Jesus replied.
‘I’m telling you the solemn truth,’ he said. ‘You aren’t looking for me because you saw signs, but because you ate as much bread as you could.’
Food fades, connection endures. Jesus is kind and patient, while also being quite clear. You came for a piece of bread and missed the eternal person.
For the crowd, Jesus is but a vending machine offering a temporary treat. The multiplying meal is merely a sign pointing to a full life, not just a full belly. But it’s simply human to have the hunger pains lead to wanting the latter, rather than being able to see the former.
Today, I want the more. I want to see beyond the morsel of bread and make heart contact with the Bread of Life. For me, this is the difference between Jesus as a crutch, and Jesus as a way of life. A crutch may help me walk, but a path gives me direction, purpose, and room for others to walk the journey with.
If this seems mildly confusing or somewhat rambling, please understand this is part confession. As things in our world open up more and more, I am both grateful and fearful. I’m grateful for the opportunity of less restriction, but fearful that an abundance of activity and entertainment will once again leave us with malnourished souls.
My hope is this past year taught us what is necessary and needed, and what was simply luxury. It’s not an either/or scenario, but when we become entitled to the luxury, we tend to clutter our calendars and fill our souls with empty calories.
So as I walk into this Monday, I’m wrestling with the irony of sprinting towards the buffet of “all the things,”while being situated in the middle of the leanness of Lent.
