Posts Tagged ‘Philip’

So much grass – feeding 5,000

July 29, 2024

Pentecost 10 – 2024

John 6:1-21

Marian Free

In the name of God who delights in the ordinary and who feeds us – body, mind and soul. Amen.

Sometimes I wonder if we take ourselves (and therefore our faith) too seriously. Jesus’ feeding of the 5,000 is one such example.  Much ink has been spilled in the attempt to explain just what happened. Was it a miracle in the sense that Jesus was able to turn five small loaves into enough bread to feed such an enormous crowd? OR was the miracle the small boy’s offering – which in turn exposed the selfishness of the crowd who then produced the food that they had brought with them?  If wondering about the miracle were not enough, others (like myself last week) focus on what the author’s intention was in re-telling the story. For example, as I said, Mark seems to be deliberately contrasting Jesus’ selflessness and humility with Herod’s self-centredness and pride. John, as we shall see, uses the miracle as a stepping off point for a long discourse on bread and possibly on Eucharistic theology.

Knowing the scholarship adds depth and breadth to our understanding, but it doesn’t hurt to have a more playful look at the text, to wonder at the detail and to try to put ourselves into the story. Instead of asking about meaning, we can take the story at face value and imagine it being related to a congregation of believers who might be trying to get a sense of what it was like to be in the presence of Jesus. Sometimes little details stand out and bring a smile to our face reminding us that Jesus was real, that he was human just like us, that the disciples didn’t completely understand or trust Jesus (a bit like us) that the people who followed Jesus were interested in him because of what he could do (at least a little bit like us).

So, Jesus – who if we read back – has just finished a long dispute with the Jewish authorities randomly decides to go to the other side of the Sea of Galilee. We are not told how he gets there! A large crowd continues to follow him either because they are interested in his showmanship or because they believe he has the power to heal. When Jesus gets to the other side of the Sea, he goes up the mountain and sits down with his disciples – only then does he appear to notice the crowd coming up behind. 

He doesn’t teach (as in Mark and Luke) or heal (as in Matthew and Luke) but turns to Philip and poses a “teaser[1]”: “Where are we to buy enough bread for these people to eat?” We can imagine Jesus’ lips curling slightly and his eyes twinkling as he tries to suppress a smile. He knows ahead of time that Philip will take him seriously and misunderstand him. Perhaps Jesus even imagines Philip doing the maths in his head. Indeed, Philip doesn’t even answer Jesus’ question which was “where” not “how” will we buy bread.

Then “miraculously’ the bread appears in the form of a small boy who has brought his lunch to Andrew and in Andrew who, even though he thinks the offering much too small, still brings the boy to Jesus. Jesus makes no comment about the bread but tells Andrew to make the peoples sit down and, as if it is an important detail, the gospel writer tells us that there was a “great deal of grass in the place”. (Mark and Matthew mention the grass, or the green grass, but not how much there is.) This comment about the grass, adds nothing to the miracle story, but it does situate the story and allows us to picture the scene and to put ourselves in it.

I draw out these details rather than the number fed, or the baskets left over, to demonstrate the ways in which the author has tried to make the text come alive for his listeners. Through this retelling, we are shown Jesus’ initial indifference (not that he doesn’t care, but that he is so focussed on what he is doing that he doesn’t at first notice the crowd). We can also see something of Jesus’ playfulness – life doesn’t have to be taken too seriously!  At the same time through Philip, we can see the consequences of taking things too seriously – we get the wrong end of the stick, we look for the wrong solution, we don’t listen carefully to the question! In Andrew, we observe the faith that is tentative, but not afraid of being disparaged or put down. Lastly, the plentiful grass is evidence that however we understand it, and however it actually happened, there was a time and a place when a great crowd gathered around Jesus, sat on the grass, and were fed.

If we pay attention to the detail, it is easier to see what is going on, and to put ourselves into the picture – are we part of the crowd, or do we relate to the pragmatic Philip or to the hesitant Andrew? How do we feel about Jesus’ gentle teasing of Philip? What do we make of the “great deal of grass”?

The Ignatians have a method of reading the bible which might be called imaginative contemplation. This method invites us to approach the bible with all our senses, to see, hear, feel and smell what is happening, to put ourselves into the story as one of the characters and to imagine what they are thinking[2]. To do this, you first open oneself to the presence of God, before reading the passage slowly once or twice so as to become familiar with it. Then you try to put yourself in the story as one of the people or simply as an observer (perhaps a maid from the inn peaking in on the Nativity). Finally, you turn to Jesus and speak to him. If you’d like to try. This method, John 6:1-21 would be a good place to start.

Who knows what really happened and what the miracle of the feeding really was, but from this story we learn that Jesus was real, that he had a sense of humour and that he cared, about the whole person – body, mind and soul, and that the people needed full stomachs as much as they needed to hear him or to be cured of their illnesses.


[1] A much better word than ‘test”.

[2] Christina Miller gives a simple explanation here https://blog.bible/bible-engagers-blog/entry/ignatian-contemplation-how-to-read-the-bible-with-your-imagination

A question of inclusion – the Ethiopian eunuch

April 27, 2024

Easter 5 – 2024

 Acts 8:26-40

Marian Free

In the name of God whose love encompasses all people.  Amen.

The reading from Acts today powerfully illustrates the transformational power of the emerging church.  The Ethiopian whom Philip meets on an isolated road, is a figure of. some importance in the region from which he comes. He was a court official who had responsibility for the treasury and was either privately wealthy or significantly important that he could travel in a chariot and have access to or own a scroll.  That he could read the scroll tells us that he was educated and that he could read at least one language other than his own.  In other words, he is unlike any other person whom we have encountered so far in the gospels or Acts.

The Ethiopian is an unusual in a great many ways and his presence in the story of the early church is puzzling. To begin with, he comes from a country beyond the control of Rome and the colour of his skin sets him apart. He might be a person of wealth and significance in his own country, but he certainly does not belong within the Judaism of pre 70 Judea which makes him a poor fit with the largely Jewish community of Jesus’ believers. 

We are told that this stranger was returning from Jerusalem, but we have no idea what he was doing there. As Gentile, the Ethiopian would not have been able to enter the inner court of the temple and as someone with physical anomaly (whether from birth or through castration) the Ethiopian would have been considered imperfect and not even able even to enter the court of the Gentiles. If, as the reading of Isaiah suggests, this is a man who is attracted to Judaism, everything about him excludes him from active participation in that faith.

In the meantime, Philip along with some others has been having some success as a missionary and healer in Samaria (8:4) when the Holy Spirit urges him to get up and go (by foot) to a road in the wilderness – between Jerusalem and Gaza. We are not told how he gets there, let alone how he happened to be in just the right place as the travelling Ethiopian.  The Ethiopian was on his way home from Jerusalem, and Philip had to come from Samaria. Yet somehow Philip finds himself following a chariot and the Spirit urges him to join it.  

It is an odd story and raises many questions. In particular: Why, one wonders, when so much was going on in Jerusalem and Samaria, does the Holy Spirit send Philip south for just one person – an outsider, a person with no influence within the. Judean community who is returning to a country which is as far removed as possible from Judea (and the believing community)?  

Of course, Luke’s placing of the story here is no accident. Acts is a stylised account of the formation of the Christian Church. Luke has envisaged an orderly growth of the faith – from Jerusalem to Judea, to Samaria to the ends of the earth (Acts 1:8). In so doing, the author has tidied up the church’s messy beginnings and has glossed over the disagreements that arose especially over the inclusion of the Gentiles.  

Acts 8:26-40 plays a pivotal role in this part of the story and amplifies the inclusive nature of the early church. It represents a movement away from evangelism to the Jews and opens the door to spreading the gospel – not only to the Gentiles, but to those who for any reason were considered impure and were therefore excluded from participation in the Temple worship and common meals. From now on the book of Acts will focus on the inclusion of the Gentiles and  the question of who is in and who is out will be definitely determined in Chapter 15. 

As suggested in Acts 1:8 the gospel has moved out of Jerusalem, through Judea, into Samaria and, through the Ethiopian, to the ends of the earth. 

The text that the Ethiopian is reading is also important. Not only does it provide Luke with an opportunity to quote the Old Testament (which he does at length) to prove the historicity and validity of the notion of a suffering Messiah, its location in Isaiah (Chapter 53), is only significant. Only a few chapters away in chapter 56  we read: ““Let no foreigner who has bound himself to the Lord say, ‘the Lord will surely exclude me from his people.’ And let no eunuch complain, ‘I am only a dry tree.’” And ‘“For this is what the Lord says: ‘To the eunuchs who keep my Sabbaths, who choose what pleases me and hold fast to my covenant — to them I will give within my temple and its walls a memorial and a name better than sons and daughters; I will give them an everlasting name that will not be cut off.’”

One of characteristics of Jesus’ ministry was his inclusiveness. Jesus associated with prostitutes, tax-collectors and sinners. He healed and spoke to people of Samaria. Now his followers are taking that inclusion one step further and affirming that the only criterion for belonging is faith. Indirectly, Luke, by his choice of text, is showing his readers that Inclusion is no new thing, but is consistent with God’s written word. By selecting a character who by all accounts should not belong in the historic faith, Luke is demonstrating just how radically inclusive the Christian faith has become.

The story of the Ethiopian eunuch speaks to our time. If someone as radically “unsuitable” as the Ethiopian could be welcomed into the church, are there any grounds on which we can exclude someone?  The text forces us to think whether there are people whom we, either formally or by our disinterest or judgement, make unwelcome? Are there those whose lifestyle we believe puts them beyond the bounds? 

What matters is this – if  God’s welcome embraces all humanity, who are we to withhold ours?

Finding in Jesus all that we desire

July 25, 2015

Pentecost 9

John 6:1-21 (Matt 14:13f, Mark 6:32f, Lk 9:10f)

Marian Free

In the name of God who provides for us more abundantly than we can imagine and more generously than we deserve. Amen.

I always approach the sixth chapter of John with a sense of trepidation bordering on dread. This is not because I find it particularly difficult to unpack or that there are themes within the chapter that jar or disturb. The reason John 6 fills me with a sense of disquiet is that we will spend the next five weeks working our way through it – all 75 verses of it! For the next five weeks (allowing for some literary license) I will be lying awake at night wondering whether there is yet another way that I can speak about bread or help to make sense of eating flesh.

Fortunately, John’s gospel has timeless appeal and is sufficiently complex that it warrants regular rereading and rewards a more detailed examination. So let us take a close look at today’s gospel – a well-known story that we hear today from a Johannine perspective.

The first thing of note is that the account of the feeding of the five thousand is the only miracle story that is found in all four gospels. We know it so well that we have probably only paid attention to the elements that are familiar – the crowds who have followed Jesus, the concern shown for the hungry crowd, the worry that five loaves will not provide enough to go around, Jesus’ giving thanks, the sharing of what little is available and that not only is everyone satisfied but also that no less than twelve baskets of fragments are gathered afterwards.

So far so good, but I wonder if you noticed there are a number of significant differences in the telling of the story that alert us to the fact that John has a particular reason for recording this miracle. To begin at the beginning, John does not tell us that the hour is getting late as do Matthew, Mark and John. Instead John sets the scene by saying that the Passover is near. This detail is significant, as the remainder of the chapter will make clear. The author of John’s gospel wants the reader to understand that Jesus has supplanted not only the Passover Feast, but all the Jewish Festivals. They have been made redundant because in his own person Jesus is the light of the world, the living water, the bread of life and so on[1].

Another difference is that it is Jesus who takes the initiative in John’s gospel. It is he (not the disciples) who is concerned about the hunger of the crowds and he who asks how they might be fed. Further, Jesus doesn’t engage with the disciples as a group, but specifically with two of them – Philip and Andrew. It is Philip to whom Jesus addresses the question about the bread and Andrew who identifies the boy who has brought the barley loaves and dried fish.

These and other differences tell us that John has a specific reason for recording this particular miracle. Unlike the Synoptics writers who emphasise Jesus’ compassion and welcome in their accounts, John’s purpose in recording the feeding is to emphasise Jesus’ foreknowledge and power and to set the scene for the discussion and discourse that is to follow. The discussion will allow Jesus to reveal something of himself, his relationship with God and his purpose on earth. In this instance the story provides the author of the gospel with the opportunity to introduce a number of topics – Jesus as the bread of life, the bread that has come down from heaven. Unlike the manna in the wilderness, this bread will not perish and those who eat of it will live forever. Those who come to Jesus the true bread, the living bread – will never hunger or thirst because the bread that Jesus will give is his flesh – his life, his very self. Those who eat Jesus’ flesh and drink his blood will be raised on the last day.

This is a lot to absorb, which is why it takes 75 verses and why we take five weeks to explore it. It is important to note at the start that at the heart of the argument (and at the heart of the gospel) is the Johannine idea that Jesus and the Father are one and that discipleship consists of nothing more and nothing less than having a relationship with Jesus that is the same as Jesus’ relationship with God. According to this view, discipleship results in a complete dependence on God that stems from an understanding that in and through Jesus all our needs can and will be met. The miracle of the feeding is the vehicle that enables John to explore this theme and to make it clear that intimacy/union with Jesus puts an end to all our desires and all our striving because in and through our relationship with Jesus we will discover that we have all that we require and more besides.

Yes, it is extraordinary that five thousand are fed with just two small fish and five small loaves, but it is just as extraordinary to recognise that the discipleship that results in eternal life does not depend so much on what we do, but what we don’t do. By allowing Jesus to be our primary source of sustenance and our sole reason for being, we will discover that union with God that provides a sense of fulfillment and well-being such that the world can never supply.

I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love. I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3:15-19)

[1] The Festival of Booths celebrated water and light and a central element of the Passover was bread.