How Many Loaves?

“And Jesus said to them, ‘How many loaves do you have?’” – Matthew 15:34

It’s interesting to look at the questions Jesus asks, because often they make no sense. Often they’re in response to a question. Jesus here presents his disciples with a situational challenge: big four-thousand-plus crowd, three days without food, don’t want to send them off to find it (reminiscent of the last chapter). The disciples ask, where are we going to get bread in the middle of nowhere? Not unreasonable. And this is Jesus’ response. First of all, it seems irrelevant. Unless they have thousands of loaves, and it seems clear they don’t, what does it matter how many they have? It still wouldn’t be enough. Secondly, Jesus certainly already knows the answer to his question. Why make them count?

I hear Jesus asking me this question. Instead of trying to problem-solve my life alone, he wants me to account for his presence and power in the situation. Instead of seeing improbabilities, he wants me to give him everything I have, insufficient though it may seem. The Jesus through  whom the world was created could certainly have spun bread out of thin air: but he wants to use what I have to do his work of transformation. The loaves represent some amount of preparation: whoever brought them had presumably been nibbling throughout the three days, but still had some left. My preparation matters. But in the end, it is trust that counts. For giving up the loaves is an act of yielding trust. It would have made more sense for the owners to keep them. Maybe just tell Jesus there were six loaves, and split the seventh up among themselves, to make sure at least their kids got enough. 

I hear Jesus saying, how many loaves do you have, Esther? Count them, so you can see my miraculous work. Are you willing to give them all to me? Are you willing, like the bread, to be broken? Are you willing to let go? Can you give thanks before the outcome, in faith that God will provide? Will you come hungry, so you can leave satisfied? 

In the Bible, seven is the number of perfection and completeness. Seven loaves, seven baskets left over. These people followed Jesus up a mountain: a difficult journey, bringing the crippled, lame and blind. They were hungry for healing, and Jesus healed. They were hungry for bread, and Jesus gave it. They left the mountain satisfied. But they would become hungry for food again; their bodies would break down and eventually die. The only truly perfect person on that mountain was Jesus, the bread of life, manna from heaven, through whom we can have eternal, resurrected bodies that will never die. This is of course what Jesus is really saying. His question is an invitation. How many loaves do you have? Give them to me; believe, and come one day to a feast that will satisfy you forever.