The apostles came back and told Jesus everything they had done. He took them with him to a city called Bethsaida so that they could be alone. But the crowds found out about this and followed him. He welcomed them, talked to them about the kingdom of God, and cured those who were sick.
Toward the end of the day, the twelve apostles came to him. They said to him, “Send the crowd to the closest villages and farms so that they can find some food and a place to stay. No one lives around here.”
Jesus replied, “You give them something to eat.”
They said to him, “We have five loaves of bread and two fish. Unless we go to buy food for all these people, that’s all we have.” (There were about five thousand men.)
Then he told his disciples, “Have them sit in groups of about fifty.” So they did this.
Then he took the five loaves and the two fish, looked up to heaven, and blessed the food. He broke the loaves apart and kept giving them to the disciples to give to the crowd. All of them ate as much as they wanted. When they picked up the leftover pieces, they filled twelve baskets. (Luke 9:10-17, GW)
How do you feed 5,000 men, plus women and children? That was the assignment. And it wasn’t Jesus’ job.
“Uh, Lord, dismiss the crowd so they can go find somewhere to sleep and eat. We’re out in the middle of nowhere.”
“You feed them,” Jesus said.
Get the scene. Jesus had just sent the disciples off on an amazingly successful mission trip. They had come back with glowing reports of healing, miracles, and general tail-kicking of the devil. Jesus wanted to get away, alone with these men so flush with victory. But a massive crowd caught wind of it, and followed Jesus to the desert. He, the ever-patient teacher, was sharing with them about the kingdom of God.
And in between the Master and the masses were these miracle workers.
“You feed them.”
With that, the disciples had two choices: calculate or connect. Figure it or faith it.
Come on, guys! You just sent demons fleeing.
This was something akin to “Miracle Working 102.” The advanced class. But they missed the connection, and calculated. (Thanks, Philip.) They figured. They saw no connection between their previous experiences, which had amazed them, and the impossible situation now facing them. So it was back to school once again.
Often when I think I’ve scored one for the home team, and should be signing autographs and getting endorsement deals from Bible dealers or something, the Lord has a different idea. He raises the bar. Asks me to take it to the next level.
“You feed them.”
Suddenly I’m confronted with the reality that, like the original Tight Twelve, maybe I don’t have it all together quite yet.
How about you? Has God raised the bar on you lately?
