18TH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME
(Isaiah 55:1-3; Romans 8:35, 37-39; Matthew 14:13-21)
It is not for nothing that Jesus wants to go off alone with
the news of the murder of John the Baptist. They knew each other even before
their births. It is said that for a time Jesus was a disciple of John. It is certainly
true that he was baptized by the great prophet of the Jordan River. Just
because John was a man devoted to God, Jesus would want to reflect on the
meaning of his death.
The Gospel does not reveal Jesus’ thoughts in the “deserted
place,” but how could he not consider that he too might have the same bloody
fate? Almost every human being has had such moments wondering about their own
demise after hearing of an unexpected death. Just six years ago, the whole
world was gripped by the possibility of sudden death. Covid-19 was taking the
lives of millions of people of all races, religions, and classes. “What will
happen to me if I catch the virus?” we wondered. Like John, Jesus did not flinch from speaking
truth to power. No doubt he realized
that he might have a similar end.
However, what is remarkable in today’s Gospel is that Jesus
doesn’t dwell on this possibility. Before long, he is healing the sick who keep
coming to him. Perhaps through his reflection on death, Jesus realizes that
people seek more than just physical healing. They need a remedy for their
souls.
We live in a world with billions of other people. Moreover, since
humans have inhabited it for thousands and thousands of years, many more human
beings have existed. As if that weren’t enough, there are countless stars in
the heavens with possibly inhabited planets. How could we not think that we are
like nothing, of no more value than grains of sand in the desert or drops of
water in the sea? We wonder if we will be forgotten faster than sounds in the
night.
As a remedy for these troubling thoughts, Jesus wants
everyone to know God’s concern for her or him. For the large crowd before him,
Jesus now has in mind a banquet that will demonstrate his Father's care. They
could buy food for sustenance in the villages, but it wouldn't nourish them for
long. Instead of mere survival, Jesus wants to provide them with the superabundance
of bread proclaimed by the prophet of the Babylonian exile in today’s first
reading. This unnamed visionary, whom scholars call "Second Isaiah,"
sowed seeds of hope among a discouraged people.
Five centuries before Christ, the Jewish exiles in Babylon
were languishing. They had lost their homeland, their homes, and probably more
than a few relatives and friends. Now, after fifty years of captivity, they
hear God's servant speak of the offering of "rich fare." It's not a
storehouse full of provisions but a supply of spiritual gifts with which a
righteous people could prosper.
In the deserted place, Jesus tells the people to take their
places. Then he takes the food at hand (just five loaves and two fish), looks
up to heaven, says a blessing, breaks the bread, and gives it to the disciples
to distribute. If these actions remind us of the Eucharist, we are thinking
with Matthew the Evangelist. The five loaves and two fish, blessed and broken,
represent the elements of the Last Supper, where the Eucharist originated.
Let it be said that every time we participate in the Mass,
we are nourished by God's superabundance. We know that the bread has been
transformed into what Jesus declared it to be at the Last Supper: his Body.
Given up, crucified, and risen from the dead, his Body assured his companions
at that blessed meal of the superabundance of life. By receiving it worthily,
he also gives us the superabundance that does not end, not even with death.
