What Do You Already Have?

Lately I’ve found myself complaining a bit. The weather has been too hot for me. The country is not moving in a direction that I like. There are some changes in my life that are a challenge for me. So I grumble a bit  more than I have in the past. And in the work I do as a counselor, I hear a lot of complaints about life from people. They’re dealing with a lot of pain and suffering and wish that it weren’t there.

I don’t see complaining as “bad” so much as the expression of some form of unhappiness and suffering in someone’s life. Our minds desire something other than what we have going on right now and we tell ourselves, “if this thing weren’t here in my life, then I’d be happy.”

It’s just a process of the mind.

In our first reading today from Numbers 11, Moses and the Israelites are moving through the desert. They had no food, and were given the miraculous “manna” from God to sustain them. But now the manna is the only thing they have to eat, and they are getting tired of it. They start saying to Moses and to each other, “Would that we had meat for food! We remember the fish we used to eat without cost in Egypt, and the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic. But now we are famished; we see nothing before us but this manna.”

Have you ever prayed for or wished for something and then got it – only to find yourself complaining about it at some later point?

The journey of the Israelites is a very interesting and relatable one for me. They were liberated from the bondage of slavery and then found themselves in the new territory of “freedom.” This freedom, however, had its own costs and uncertainties, and as we read today even got them longing for certain aspects of their former life.

Like any process of change, there are some parts of it we may embrace and look forward to. And there will surely be parts that we did not anticipate. During the “wilderness” times of our lives – when we have left one territory and have not yet arrived at the other – the precariousness of life may feel overwhelming or too much for us. It is scary to be in the wilderness.

And yet this is the place where our trust and faith is honed.

In the gospel today from Matthew 14, Jesus tries to get a break from the crowds and go to a secluded place for some quiet time. People follow him there. We’re told that “when he disembarked and saw the vast crowd, his heart was moved with pity for them, and he cured their sick.”

I often wish I could pivot like Jesus does. I know that I would have likely complained about this crowd ruining my quiet time! But Jesus instead moves towards compassion, leans into this moment and connects with them.

He heals people all day until evening. As it’s getting dark, the disciples are ready to call it a day and say to him, “This is a deserted place and it is already late; dismiss the crowds so that they can go to the villages and buy food for themselves.” Jesus shockingly says to them, “There is no need for them to go away; give them some food yourselves.”

The disciples think Jesus is bonkers. We’re told in the passage that the crowd numbered “five thousand men, not counting women and children.” (Why the women and children were not counted is a whole separate issue that needs to be discussed…but not here). How are a few dozen followers of Jesus going to feed thousands of people?

Jesus is undeterred by their complaints and protests, however. In Mark’s version of this story, Jesus asks them what I think is one of the most powerful questions in the bible. In Mark 6 he asks, “What have you got?” And I imagine that this question is asked today because they say to him, “Five loaves and two fish are all we have here.”

And of course Jesus says, “Bring them here to me,”

I have written previously on this passage, which you can read here, and it is one that I keep returning to again and again in my faith life because it offers such a lesson in presence and generosity of spirit.

In my life, I can so easily get caught up in what is NOT present, what is NOT happening, who is NOT here or what I DON’T have that I can miss the chance to see what IS present, what IS happening, who IS here and what I DO HAVE. Negativity is seductive, and some brain researchers might even say that it’s hard-wired into our brains for survival reasons (meaning we’re always scanning for threats).

And like the Israelites, I think the disciples probably started complaining – at least internally or maybe aloud. Maybe they said, “How does Jesus expect us to feed all these people? What are we going to go out and buy food for everyone? We don’t have that kind of money! Why didn’t the people bring their own food? They came out here all day and didn’t bring a thing?”

Thankfully the disciples didn’t remain there. They offered what they had.

I know that in the face of large problems – individually or collectively – my tendency is to shrink and close up a bit. It’s a protective response of some kind. But today’s gospel invites a shift. Jesus says, “I am not asking you to solve it all. I just want to know what you can bring to the situation. Just bring that. I’ll work with that.” And he does.

I met a man downtown a few days ago. He is known to many as “X” (his given name is Alvin). Many now know him as the “Mayor of Cobbs Hill” and you may have seen the story on him last year. X saw hungry kids, gang fights and a lot of chaos at Cobbs Hill park. So a few years back, he decided to do something. He brought grills there and started to feed people – sometimes up to 5 days each week. He would cobble up some money, buy what he could, cook it and give it away. People began to contribute and collaborate, and the people who were using the park started to trust him. Over time he began to intervene in conflicts, helped bring some structure to the basketball games and connected people to other resources that they needed. Now he’s known across the city.

X describes his journey in terms of faith, and the other day when I was talking with him, he basically said that he wondered what he could do and God put the word, “Cook!” in his heart.

So he offered what he had.

It does not take a lot to set good in motion, but we must first be willing to offer what we have to God who can then use it and multiply it. It may not seem or feel like much, but it can be used for the greater good. And I always like to remember what Sr. Margie used to say (and I’m paraphrasing), “Don’t give it unless you can give it joyfully…” Otherwise, you’ll start complaining about what you had to give away!

This week, we will all encounter situations that might cause us to complain, constrict, or shrink. Perhaps we might even feel overwhelmed by the enormity of what we’re facing. Maybe we can pause in that moment and pivot like Jesus did. And instead of feeling like we need to do it all, maybe we can respond to his invitation to offer what we have to the situation and let him bless and multiply it.