Then Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks to God, and distributed them to the people. Afterward he did the same with the fish. And they all ate as much as they wanted. After everyone was full, Jesus told his disciples, “Now gather the leftovers, so that nothing is wasted.” So they picked up the pieces and filled twelve baskets with scraps left by the people who had eaten from the five barley loaves. [John 6:11-12 (NLT)]
The only two miracles recorded in all four gospels are the resurrection of Jesus and His feeding of the 5,000. Since the gospel writers only told us the number of men at that al fresco meal, Biblical scholars estimate the actual number eating those loaves and fish to be more than double that figure. Perhaps it’s because of the magnitude of that miracle that people often want a logical (meaning earthly) explanation of how Jesus did it and skeptics love to offer their own version of the events.
In an effort to explain away this miracle, some disbelievers suggest that everyone just had a small bite of food. When I’ve had unexpected guests, I’ve made some pretty thin slices in the roast to fill everyone’s plates but there is no way even the most experienced butcher could slice those loaves and fish thin enough to feed fifty, let alone thousands. Some skeptics posit that there was a massive fish kill that day in the Sea of Galilee but that fails to explain the bread. Others claim that the whole things was just a psychological trick. Rather than God’s son, Jesus was a hypnotist who hypnotized the entire crowd (and the disciples) into thinking they were eating. Hypnosis, however, doesn’t work on everyone and hypnotizing thousands (including unbelievers) at one time would have been a miracle in itself! Some skeptics explain this event as an example of the amazing charisma of Jesus. They speculate that He managed to convince anyone who happened to have food to share with everyone else and that a massive impromptu potluck picnic took place. Indeed, getting a crowd that size to share their provisions with strangers would be a miracle. Nevertheless, if enough people had brought their own food, feeding the crowd wouldn’t have been a concern to Jesus or the disciples. Moreover, none of these scenarios explain those twelve baskets of leftovers!
In the television show Penn & Teller: Fool Us!, aspiring magicians perform their best illusions for the famed duo who then try to figure out how they are done. As experienced and skilled as Penn Jilette and Teller are, they often are fooled. If expert illusionists can’t figure out how a magic trick is done, as mere mortals, we shouldn’t expect to understand how God manages an actual miracle!
By its very definition, a miracle can’t be explained. Unlike a scientific experiment, it can’t be duplicated and, unlike a magic trick, it’s not sleight of hand or illusion. Essentially, a miracle is an unusual manifestation of God’s power designed to accomplish a specific purpose. On that hillside nearly 2,000 years ago, not only were thousands fed, but there were twelve baskets full of leftovers. Why did so much food remain? That miracle demonstrated Jesus’ power and His divine provision. Our God is a more-than-enough God!
If we insist on figuring out how Jesus managed this miracle, do we also want a plausible explanation for His raising of Lazarus, the virgin birth, wine at Cana, walking on water, calming a storm, or the appearance of Moses and Elijah on the mountainside at the transfiguration? Jesus was God and our creator God is not bound by the laws of nature. When He created the world, He made something out of nothing; feeding thousands with a few loaves and fish probably was child’s play for Him. Try as we will, there are no plausible explanations for the supernatural. The logical explanation for the feeding of the multitude is the obvious one: it was a miracle!
About miracles, one of my pastors is fond of saying, “You either believe it or you don’t!” As for me, I choose to believe!
Miracles are not contrary to nature, but only contrary to what we know about nature. [Augustine]
When reading the narratives of the Old Testament, it’s tempting to think that some of the stories are more legend than history. Take the story of Balaam, the pagan prophet hired by King Balak to curse the Israelites, who ended up blessing the Israel and pronouncing disaster on its enemies. Since this took place around 1407 BC, it’s easy to question the story’s accuracy. Balaam’s existence, however, has extra-biblical non-Israelite confirmation.
Before stepping inside of the Bern Münster Cathedral, you’ll probably stop and stare at the archway above the main entrance. There you’ll see 294 carved sandstone figures in a graphic illustration of God’s final judgment when the wicked are separated from the righteous. To your right are the naked damned souls in the midst of flames while, on your left, the righteous stand clothed in white and marked with the seal of God on their foreheads. Lady Justice with her scales and the Archangel Michael with his sword stand in the center. The entire scene is surrounded by larger statues of various saints and martyrs as well as the five wise virgins and the five foolish ones who weren’t ready for the bridegroom’s return!
When writing about nitroglycerin recently, I realized there’s something else in our lives much like this strange chemical that is both helpful and harmful. Like nitroglycerin, man’s capabilities are a dichotomy between good and evil, constructive and destructive, and beneficial or detrimental. The same mind capable of creating a vaccine that saves thousands of lives is capable of creating a nuclear bomb that can take those lives. James speaks of this incongruity when writing about the way we use our words, “We use our tongues to praise our Lord and Father, but then we curse people, whom God made like himself. Praises and curses come from the same mouth! My brothers and sisters, this should not happen.” [3:9-10]
Devotions of the Heart 