A Couple Fish

“Bring them here to me,” he said.
-Jesus, Matthew 14:18

Hey, friends. I'm back from my May break, where I had the gift of a few weeks to pause my teaching and writing responsibilities. I'd love to report that this week I'm super ready to go, full throttle, with tons of hope! You know, full of that victory-in-Jesus life! 

Yeah, I'd love to report that. But I can't. 

The reality is that this week has been hard. I've felt some of the pain in our world and the struggles of people I love. I've felt stuck on issues that seem to have no quick and easy solutions in our society, and then personally I've been left holding some big feelings of my own inadequacy in like all the areas (parenting, pastoring, house needs, strategic thinking, processing some losses). 

It crept up on me. I don't know if that happens to you. If you feel fine one day and then, boom, it all just feels like too much and God feels just barely out of reach. 

So this afternoon I was thinking about the famous story of Jesus feeding the multitudes, and Jesus told the disciples to work together with him to feed everyone and all they found was this one kid with a bit of bread and two fish. 

I love digging into the cultural depths of Bible stories. But sometimes the most obvious reading is actually the best one. The fish get multiplied. The bread loaves never run out. And so what this kid has to offer...is enough. Yes, it's woefully inadequate in his hands. But the miracle that Jesus does to care for everyone didn't really need an "adequate" offering. It just needed the tiniest bit of lopsided partnership. The kid gave what was available, and if it would have been a quarter of a tuna sandwich with stale edges and bite marks, that would have been enough too. It was the open hands that were needed, not the impressive contents that they held. 

So anyway, I'm sitting there with my laptop and for absolutely no reason I open Google and type: 

"What if all I have is a couple fish" 

It's not a valid question to ask Google. Google is not God. Google is not a therapist. Google is not particularly insightful. Google should NEVER direct our life choices on issues of ethics, theology, politics, self-reflection, or Together For Good™ reflections.

But, I confess that sometimes I type existential questions into Google, even if it's against everything I believe. Praying about it would have been a much more appropriate response as a pastor. What can I say? Humans are inconsistent and complicated. Pastors are too. Sorry to disappoint. 

Here's what appeared on the top hit from the search engine: 
Having just a "couple" of fish is actually a great starting point for aquariums. Smaller groups produce less waste, reducing the risk of ammonia spikes.

That's not at all what I meant. But also, that's good to know and now I sort of want to get an aquarium. 

Just a couple of fish is a great starting point. 

I don't know where the attitude came from that for us to offer something meaningful to each other and the world, we have to make it all happen ourselves. Our entire faith is founded on what Jesus does in us and in our world, not on our own impressive offering. 

So this week, if you're heading into summer and think that you should have your emotional, spiritual, and physical life perfectly in order, I invite you to hear the whisper of Jesus (or even Google): Just a couple of fish is a great starting point. 
Even our longing for a world that is loving and just is something we can put into God's hands to work with. Our simple moments of care and love for each other, even when they seem inadequate, are enough for Jesus to bless and multiply. Our attempts to move toward healing and faithfulness and connection, even when we are mostly too overwhelmed to think about any of that... are worth so much in the hands of Jesus. 

So whatever you've got today is sufficient if it's entrusted to Jesus. I don't have to fix the world. Neither do you. God forgive us for putting that sort of pressure on ourselves. God give us the grace and courage to just open our hands with the couple of fish that we have. And when we place them in Jesus' hands and ask how we can help, we will experience the beauty of a shared faith and the goodness of a God who multiplies our limited resources. 

Jesus, teach me to trust you in the moments when I feel capable and in the moments when I feel like I have almost nothing to contribute. Help me hand it all over either way, knowing that if it lands in your hands, what you do with it will always be enough. 


Peace,
Keith