At this they began to argue with each other because they hadn’t brought any bread. Jesus knew what they were saying, so he said, “You have so little faith! Why are you arguing with each other about having no bread? Don’t you understand even yet? Don’t you remember the 5,000 I fed with five loaves, and the baskets of leftovers you picked up? Or the 4,000 I fed with seven loaves, and the large baskets of leftovers you picked up?” [Matthew 16:7-10 (NLT)]
Matthew and Mark tell of a second time Jesus fed a multitude. Jesus had been north of Galilee in Tyre and Sidon before going south to the Sea of Galilee and on to the region of the Ten Towns or Decapolis. Once there, a huge crowd assembled and set up camp around Jesus as He healed and preached. After three days on the hillside, the crowd ran out of provisions and Jesus voiced His concern. Just like the first time they were faced with a hungry crowd, the disciples don’t know what to do, even though the solution was standing right in front of them. After they found seven loaves and a few fish, Jesus miraculously turned that into a feast for 4,000 men (plus women and children) with seven large reed baskets of food remaining!
Why would Matthew and Mark include two almost identical stories to their gospels? Perhaps the reason is found in the location of these miracles. While the setting of these miracles seems unimportant to us in the 21st century, it wasn’t when the miracles occurred and the words were written. Located on the north shore of the Galilean Sea, the Bethsaida region was Jewish, and most (if not all) of the recipients of that first miraculous meal were Jews. When Jesus was in Tyre and Sidon, however, He was in a Gentile region and at least 35 miles north of the Sea of Galilee. To get to the Decapolis, He had to go east, cross the Jordan, and then proceed south to the southern end of the Sea. Since he was on His way back to Judea, it’s evident that Jesus deliberately went out of His way to minister to this Gentile and largely pagan region.
With their addition of Jesus feeding the multitude in the Decapolis, Matthew and Mark made it clear that Jesus came for both Jew and Gentile. Let this story be a reminder that, whether Jew or Gentile, good church-going people or idol worshippers and pagans, deserving or undeserving, all of God’s children deserve to be fed both spiritually and physically.
It also seems that Jesus’ miracles of provision needed repeating for His disciples. Even though He previously turned a boy’s lunch into a banquet for well over 5,000 hungry people, the disciples stood around not knowing what to do when faced with another hungry crowd of 4,000 men (plus women and children)! Instead of seeing an opportunity, they saw an impossibility. Rather than asking Jesus where they’d find enough food in the wilderness, they immediately should have offered what they did have to Jesus and asked Him to make it enough! It seems the disciples were slow learners!
Even though Jesus turned seven loaves and a few fish into an al fresco picnic for thousands, the disciples still didn’t understand. Shortly after this miracle, Jesus and the disciples were in a boat and crossing the lake. When the disciples realized they had only one loaf of bread between them, they argued about the lack of food! They sat there quarreling about bread while the Bread of Life sat in the boat with them. For the One who could multiply seven loaves to feed a multitude, turning one loaf into enough for thirteen men was child’s play, but they were blind to who He was and what He could do!
May we always remember that God can do things that exceed our wildest imagination. If we just bring Him what we have—no matter how little or insignificant it may seem—God will make it enough. As the old hymn goes: “Little is much when God is in it.”
While the Nazarites’ long hair was supposed to be a constant reminder of their commitment to God and a sign to others of their vow, I don’t think his hair was what gave Samson his strength. Three times Delilah asked Samson the source of his strength, three times he lied in his answer, and three times he woke to find himself incapacitated in the way he said he could be defeated. After being betrayed by Delilah three times, why would the man finally tell her the truth the fourth time she asked? He couldn’t possibly have been that foolish. Perhaps, his Philistine wife’s betrayal years earlier taught him a thing or two about deceit. When Samson finally told Delilah the source of his strength, could he have thought all four of his answers to be lies? Wanting to continue enjoying her favors in bed, he might have thought he’d given her an answer as outlandish as tying him with seven bowstrings or weaving his hair onto a loom. I’m not a Bible scholar but I suspect the boastful warrior thought that, in spite of having the long hair of a Nazarite, he alone was the true source of his strength.
Since the judges usually were military leaders, it’s not surprising that only one of the twelve, was female: Deborah. Normally, the culture of the day wouldn’t support a woman in this role. Judges were called to save Israel from their enemies and to restore peace and prosperity. They did it by driving out or annihilating Israel’s oppressors—not considered women’s work in 1150 BC. Nevertheless, God designated the prophet Deborah as Israel’s judge. At the risk of sounding sexist, it could be that God appointed a woman as the judge because there were no qualified men at the time!
An old Chinese parable tells of a poor farmer whose only horse runs away. His friends commiserate over his bad luck and ask how he’ll plow his field. The farmer answers, “Who knows? We shall see.” Two days later, the horse returns along with several wild horses. When the farmer’s friends congratulate him on the good fortune of now having a stable full of horses, the farmer replies, “Who knows? We shall see.” The following week, while trying to tame the horses, the farmer’s son breaks his leg in three places. The farmer’s friends offer condolences and wonder how he’ll get his work done with his son unable to walk and help. The farmer answers, “Who knows? We shall see.” When a war breaks out, the emperor’s men arrive and conscript all the young men in the village. With his leg in a cast and needing crutches, the farmer’s son is considered unfit for battle and remains in the village. As his neighbors watch their sons leave home, they congratulate the farmer on his stroke of luck. He replies, “Who knows? We shall see.” Although the son’s leg eventually heals, he has a bad limp. The farmer’s neighbors express their sympathy for such trouble. “Who knows? We shall see,” he again replies. By the time the war is over, all of the village’s boys have died in battle but, with his several horses and a son now able to help, the farmer can plow several fields and has grown wealthy. When the villagers congratulate him on his good fortune, the farmer replies, “Who knows? We shall see.”
In the late 1970s, psychologists Suzanna Imes and Pauline Rose Clance developed the concept of what is known as the “imposter syndrome.” Loosely defined as doubting one’s abilities and feeling like a fraud, it is believing that you are not as competent as others perceive you to be. The impostor syndrome manifests in failing to realistically assess our competence and skills, self-denigration, a fear of not living up to expectations, and attributing any of our successes to someone or something else, like luck.
Devotions of the Heart 