Jesus and I had Enough

• Preacher: The Rev. Andrew Van Kirk

• Passage: John 6:1-21

Thaddeus Bar-Simon burst around the olive tree and vaulted over the low stone wall that separated his family's home from that of his cousin. A pair of hens squawked in alarm and jumped out of the way in flurry of feathers and then waddled off clucking their disapproval.

Thaddeus was ten, dark skinned, small, and very out of breath. His cheeks we red; beads of sweat had formed at his temples. He had gathered the hem of his robe in a ball with one hand as he ran. "Mom!" he yelled. "Mom! You'll never believe what happened!"

His mother Miriam stepped out of the low door that led to their house, which was nothing more than a single room carved out of the rocky hillside in the village above the Sea of Galilee. She saw Thaddeus, and beyond him the two fowl, then the wall, then the olive tree and few family goats, then the rise of the next low hill, and far off in the distance the great lake shimmering in the afternoon sun, dotted with the sails of the fishing boats heading out for the evening.

"Mom!" Thaddeus said again, calling her attention back to him. "You'll never guess the miracle that Jesus and I did together today!"

"Oh?" she asked. Word from her uncle who lived in Capernaum was that this Jesus had done some amazing things. Healings and exorcisms. Miracles. Thaddeus had been particularly captured by the stories her uncle had told around the campfire, and so when he heard Jesus was nearby, he had rushed through his chores this morning and set off to see for himself.

"Mom," he continued, "everybody ate my fish! Everybody ate my bread! Everybody! There were thousands of people. Thousands and thousands and thousands. And they all ate my lunch!"

He was standing right in front of her now, looking up into her dark eyes. She looked down at him and smiled a half-smile, trying her best to meet his excitement but utterly lost trying to understand.

"But Thaddeus, I only sent you with two small pickled fish and those five little loaves of barley bread leftover from yesterday. That was hardly enough food for a growing boy like you, much less a huge crowd."

"Yes, yes. I didn't have enough, but I gave it away and Jesus and I together did have enough!"

"What! You gave away your lunch?" she asked, grabbing Thaddeus tightly be the shoulders, as if poised to shake some sense into him.

"One of the disciples – I think the one called Andrew maybe – he saw the little basket of food you'd given me. And when Jesus told those who were with him to feed the crowd (and mama, the crowd was so big!), Andrew told Jesus that I had some food."

She interrupted him by digging her fingertips into his shoulders. "Where is this Andrew fellow? Who does he think he is stealing food from my baby! I'm going to tell your father when he gets back from the field."

"No, wait, mom. Just listen. So Andrew comes near to me and he tells me that I should give my bread and my fish to Jesus. And I really didn't want to, because I was hungry and there wasn't that much to begin with. But then I did. I gave it to Jesus. All of it. I had no idea what he was going to do with it, but I thought I should give it to him."

Miriam relaxed her grip on the boy's shoulders and pulled him in close. He was too sweet, this son of hers. Too giving. Too trusting. Too generous. As she hugged him she said sorrowfully, "Oh poor boy! You must be so hungry now."

She sighed and looked back inside the house and at the small fire in the hearth by the door. "But I gave you all we had this morning, and the stew for this evening is barely warm yet. It won't be done for hours. Maybe your aunt has something they can spare."

"No, no. I'm not hungry. Actually no one is hungry. See, Jesus took my bread and fish and started passing them out to people. And when Jesus was done, there were twelve baskets left over! He ended with more food than he started with! It was amazing!"

His mother pushed him away again; cocked her head sideways and then knelt down, bring herself eye to eye.

"See mom," he continued earnestly, "Jesus and I did the most amazing miracle together. This is the best day ever."

Miriam could see the sparkle in his eyes and she felt something like hope inside. She took a deep breath. "Thaddeus, how many loaves of bread did you eat for lunch today?"

"Seven…ehh, maybe eight."

"And how many pickled fish did you eat?"

"Five. And they were delicious, every single one of them tasted just like the two you gave me."

She smiled broadly and began to laugh, not in jest but in joy. And then Thaddeus put his hands right on her face. "Mom, everybody in the whole world ate my fish today! And they ate my bread!"

He suddenly dropped his hands and started running around in circles in front of the house, "It was awesome! I didn't have enough, but Jesus and I did!"

Miriam stood up. "You know, Thaddeus, I was the one who pickled those fish. I baked those loaves. So everybody ate my fish, and my bread. Maybe Jesus and I did a miracle today."

Thaddeus, still running off the excitement that was boiling over, replied, "Thank you mom! I guess Jesus and I did need a little help from you. And daddy caught those fish. And Aunt Salome ground that barley into flour. But just us, we didn't have enough on our own."

He stopped running and looked down. "We never seem to have enough, do we mom?"

Miriam rubbed her hands together. She hadn't had anything to eat today, having sent it all with him. A single tear slid down her cheek, and then another. It was all the reply she could make.

Thaddeus walked slowly towards her, leaving little prints in the dust. "Mama, I didn't have enough food. But Jesus and I did."

He went on. "When all the food was shared, and everyone was sitting on the grass eating, Jesus came and he put his hand on my shoulder and he said to me, 'Look what you and I did together.' And then he gave me this."

Thaddeus reached inside his robes and pulled out a small parcel wrapped with cloth and gave it to his mother. She unrolled it slowly, and coming to the center, laid it on a rock. Inside lay six small barley loaves and three pickled fish.

"He gave us more than we gave him," she said.

"Mom, I don't know how he did it. But I know I got to be a part of it because I gave what I had. And that's the most wonderful thing."

"It's so wonderful," she said. "So, so wonderful."