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| Maybe it's not the scene described by Mark, but beggars can't be choosers. Wikimedia Commons, Jesus Pacifies the Crowd, Etching by R. Stang after J.F. Overbeck. |
In last Sunday’s
Gospel reading, and leading into this
coming Sunday’s Gospel[1],
the Apostles return from their first missionary expedition filled with
excitement at the success wrought by the invocation of the Name of Jesus. For
Jesus had sent them out “two by two” into the surrounding towns and villages
(6:7). Now we read that “the apostles returned to Jesus, and related to him all
the things that they had done and taught.” (6:30).
It’s the same kind of enthusiasm we see in little
children, who at the end of the day, after returning from a school excursion,
are excited to tell everything that happened to them to their mum and dad. A
good parent is attentive to the child’s sharing, and Jesus as Chief Shepherd
was most assuredly attentive to the bleating of His chosen lambs—lambs whom He
was forming at this time to be the shepherds of His future Church.
'Come... Rest A Little While'
In fact, Jesus was so attentive to His Apostles that He discerned
their unspoken need to rest, to get away from the action of the apostolate for
a little while, in order to recharge themselves in His Presence. “For many were
coming and going, and they had no opportunity even to eat” (6:31a). So Jesus
says to them, “You yourselves, come on own apart into a solitary place and rest
a little while” (6:31b).
Here we see the need to space out the active works of the
apostolate, and even the everyday duties and demands of family life and work,
with moments of peaceful solitude, sometimes to rest, and other times to pray.
The command “Come” speaks of the necessity of such withdrawal, and the
adjective “little” used in the Greek and Peshitta speaks of the temporary and
transitory nature of such ‘time away’ or ‘time apart’. Since the
responsibilities of life await our return from the desert of leisure and
contemplation.
At the word of Jesus, no doubt elated at this proposal
(even if only to eat!) the Apostles jump into the boat, push out, and make
their way “to a solitary place by themselves” (6:32).
How It went Down
Yet the people weren’t going to just give up that easily!
Here’s Jesus the miracle worker—someone who teaches like nobody else; and here
are His Apostles who have just spread the wildfire of His power throughout
Judea, intensifying interest into the person of Jesus—ranging from the
superficial to the sincere. The Gospel states that “many recognised” the place
they were going to, and so the crowd ran ahead and bet the boat to the punch.
Some kind of place! Real solitary, Jesus. Out of
all the places they could have gone, Jesus leads them to a place which many can
guess at, and which is in the reach of the crowd who can simply get there
quicker by foot! Even if this was the only nearby and reachable place we cannot
forget about the fact that Jesus is no ordinary man. He is fully Divine, and so
He knows exactly what He is leading them into, what the crowd was going to do,
and what was expecting them on the other side—certainly not peaceful leisure!
The RSV reads, “As he [Jesus] went ashore he saw a great
throng” (6:34). The Greek reads, “And having gone out he saw a great throng”.
Thus arguably it is in the process of Jesus getting out of the boat that He
visibly sees the approaching crowd. At this point His heart is touched and His
divine compassion overwhelms His humanity, pricking all His senses and stirring
His sensibilities, so that we read: “he had compassion on them, because they
were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.”
(6:34). Later on, He then feeds them through the miracle of the multiplication.
How It Could Have Gone Down
It’s not how the account goes but imagine if it went like
this instead (forgive me in advance, but we’ll do it in Semi-Archaic Australian Message Translation style):
And as he got out of the boat
Jesus saw the crowd, and He sighed a mighty sigh and spoke unto His twelve
mates, “Struth! Check out that crowd! Get back in the boat boys, let’s get
outta here!” And Jesus summersaulted back into the boat, and with His twelve
made haste unto the opposite side of the body of water, where alighting they
found a solitary place, good for relaxing, and He said, “Behold the serenity.”
Then miracled-up some
tucker, and having eateth, they chilled.
Quite a different scene, and
mildly amusing (if I don’t say so myself). Yet how often have we not done
exactly this! Row right off the shore of ‘Neighbour-in-Need’ to the opposite
bank where we feel free of the expectation to help.
To Step Ashore, Or Not to Step Ashore?
Perhaps, we’ve made our plans
to spend a day or a bit of time in rest or for prayer, stepping back from the
hustle and bustle of the demands of our state of life. Maybe our plans haven’t
even been set in motion; or else we may have just settled down to relax, to
read, to watch something, or are half-way through meditating or writing, or are
in the midst of what we think is a profound spiritual moment of contemplation.
Until suddenly, a knock, a
voice, an intruder, a serpent is in our Eden! In the words of Everybody
Loves Raymond, “They’re coming!” An unexpected spanner is thrown into our
works. Phone calls are rarely urgent, thus can hardly interpose. And there are
occasions when temporary avoidance is justified and needed when the place we
live in is a hot spot for visitors and is transparently available practically
24/7, and would have no boundaries unless we drew the line in the sand. But generally,
most of the time, and for most of us who do not live in such a
ministry-hot-spot, a person in the flesh, be it a guest at our house, a
stranger walking up to us in the park, or a near-one summoning us from our
domestic cacoon, they can seem to jam into our midst—really needing our
assistance and attention, and above all, our time.
(The same can apply to when
we’re set on any agenda—be it during work or study—when someone pops into the
scene unexpectantly, we may even feel, unwantingly! But for the sake of simplicity
we’ll stick to ‘unwelcome’ intermissions into our prayer and rest).
So what do we do? Do we act
rude and brief, making it clear we’d rather they get going so that we can chill
or pray or do our thing? Or do we act like Jesus and take compassion on them.
Acting normal and natural, hospitable and friendly, responding in love in
accord with the situation and the need of the one to whom we’re speaking. Maybe
a simple cup of tea is in order. A glass of water. A quick conversation. A
heartfelt hello, instead of an avoidance or a weak-hello, out of fear they’ll
keep us talking for eternity. Above all, maybe all that’s required is keen
interest and an open ear. Sure, we needn’t sacrifice the whole day to them, or
even that long at all—and sometimes we have to gently pull ourselves from those
who would demand our attention until the Second Coming or until we dropped
dead, unless we intervened. But this is a far cry from pushing someone into the
lake or sea and rowing away, or of hiding under the nets on the boat in order
to avoid them when they’ve already seen us!
Or perhaps we’re in the middle
of a spiritual retreat, enjoying the bliss of present and future solitude, only
to have someone rock-up or knock at the door, or have someone from outside the
retreat start speaking to us. Or else, we’re in church or Eucharistic Adoration
and someone who is completely oblivious to the customs starts talking with us
or looking around for human contact.
What do we do? Do we ignore
them? Look away and wrap ourselves inside the cloak of our piety? Do we speak
hastily with them? Curt and to the point, making it clear we’re on retreat? Do
we point to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament and tell them to be quiet because
the God of Love wants them to shut-up? (Try convincing someone about the God of
Love with that blunt tactic). Or do we put the focus on love and discern in
that instance if love is summoning us to drop the ideal of a retreat or the
strict practice of silence and instead to take compassion on this person who is
Jesus coming to us?
To be like Jesus in going
forth from the boat, we might then have to momentarily drop our silence,
prayers and devotions, in order to tend to this fellow sheep of the flock who
is likely sincerely ignorant and/or broken and in need. It might be as simple
as giving them a smile, a nod of the head or a greeting. We might have to step
aside and see how we can help. We might ask who they are, or explain what Adoration
is all about. The situation and how we are to best respond will be given to us by
means of the gifts of the Spirit working in us. Responding to the Spirit in
such circumstances could be the kind of action that changes someone’s life. Yet
it wouldn’t happen if we stuck to our little boat of ridged idealism. We
wouldn’t after all like to be like the pious little Priest and Levite who both hurried
along, possibly to the Temple, making sure to avoid the man in need so as not
to be inconvenienced, ‘ritually defiled,’ or maybe even out of fear of being
judged by their peers who might have misjudged their absence for impiety.
Ignorance and Availability
Sometimes however the
equivalent of the mighty throng running down the beach towards our intended
sanctuary is not something the other party is even aware of. Sometimes only
we’re aware of the opportunity and summons presented before us to reach out
towards our neighbour who has no idea.
Take for example the crowd who
were gathered around Jesus and the Apostles. Jesus knew the crowd was going to
assail them at the alleged ‘solitary place’. Yet He went forward and made His
way with the Apostles to a situation He knew was going to involve more effort,
more time, more love. He thus made the choice to make Himself available to the
crowd by heading for that ‘doomed location’ even though He could have gotten
away with the bother by sailing off somewhere else. After all, the crowd didn’t
know that Jesus knew that they were going to intercept Him. Jesus could have therefore
exploited their ignorance and used it to His advantage. So why didn’t He?
Because He saw a need, and a vital need that had to be addressed not later, but
in the present.
By this, Jesus is teaching us
that even in those situations when our neighbours are ignorant of the fact we
can help them, and therefore do not expect our aid, this does not negate the
duty to tend to a need and compromise on rest if indeed the need cannot wait. This
is not something that needs clarification, because in our hearts we all know
the difference between a neighbourly need to which God is prompting us to cater
to in the moment, compared to a need that can easily wait an hour or a day.
Then there’s the matter of
availability. Before Jesus even started having some down time He made Himself
available right until the last minute, dropping the plan to rest immediately
when He saw a need, and delaying it until later (as we shall see). Likewise, while
we are engaged in essential rest or prayer it is appropriate to mitigate our
availability somewhat, delaying what can be delayed. Yet we mustn’t forgo
serving our neighbour simply on the basis that we plan to rest and pray
soon enough. Maybe God is asking us to delay our plans. Maybe not. But
availability leaves us open to discern and act upon God’s Will, not insist upon
our own as if it were Divine Will. Nor must we confuse designated time for
prayer and essential rest with our general available time. It is easy to brush
off charity under the pretext of sacred time alone and essential rest, when
really we’re just using that as an excuse to avoid something we feel is
bothersome.
A Shepherd of Body and Soul
As we have said, obviously Jesus
was no dummy. He could have found and arranged a full-proof solitary place if
He wanted to. Yet in that moment when the crowd hemmed upon them, Jesus made
the conscious decision to go to a place where He knew the needy crowd would
await Him. Is He playing games here? Toying with His Apostles? Saying, “Come
let’s rest,” but really, He’s setting the Apostles up for round seventy-seven
of Ministry Non-Stop?
No, what Jesus is doing is
sincerely exercising care for the Apostles’ bodily and spiritual needs. He
wants them to find rest and to be able to take a little break. But Jesus also
wants to teach His Apostles an important spiritual teaching. He is forming them
after all to be shepherds of His flock, and the life of ministry—be it priestly
ministry or even the ministry of a religious or lay person—is never going to go
exactly as planned according to the ideal schedule we have in mind. Things are
going to come up. Charity is going to barge its way into our sanctuary, step
all over our nice little plans, and demand our attention like a baby crying
from its cot in the middle of the night. Jesus is thus shepherding more than
the crowd here, He is also shepherding His Apostles—and by extension, us by
example.
Anyway, before we charge Jesus
with playing games we must keep in mind that Jesus does grant them time apart
to finally be at rest (6:45-46). Thus Jesus “dismissed the crowd” (6:45). But before
this Jesus first teaches the crowd, nourishing their souls with the Word,
the Bread of Heaven, and then He feeds their bodies with earthly bread, through
the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes.
By this two things are made apparent:
the first is that the order of the ‘feedings’ reveals that spiritual
nourishment, and the soul, is more important than physical nourishment and the
needs of the body; and secondly, that the body and soul are one, and so it is
that love in this life must cater to the soul, but also to the body. The
spiritual and corporeal works of mercy are thus inseparable, but the latter
derives its power from the former—the Spirit of prayerful love that animates
it. This symbiotic relation and precedence of the spiritual is summarised in
the well-known Scripture: “man does not live by bread alone; but man lives by
every word that proceeds from the mouth of the Lord” (Deut 8:3).
Practically speaking the
example of our Lord who feeds both soul and body requires us in our hospitality
and service, to tend to the needs of our neighbour physically and spiritually.
Seeking as it were to keep them comfortable, and to uplift their spirit with
the joy of Christ manifested naturally without weird pretence, and to edify them
by our kindness. Offering them both spiritual bread and physical bread, as it
were. Praying for them and also doing what we can to help them concretely. As
the Spirit so exhorts us through St. John: “Little children, let us not love in
word or speech but in deed and truth.” (1 Jn 3:18). That is, in deeds soaked in
prayer, for prayer awakens and unveils the truth that Jesus the Good Shepherd
is at work in the outward acts we do.
'Restful Waters By'
Besides all of this, Jesus is not
leading His Apostles into a trap of business, "besides restless waters," as if His summons to “Come… rest
a little while” was a lie or something simply to be granted later on, possibly implying
that literal rest and solitude for prayer is not that important. But Jesus is imparting
the lesson that true rest, peace and nourishment, comes not from satisfying our
own will to finally chillax or pray, but from doing and abiding in God’s Will,
cooperating with whatever God is calling us to do in the present situation—even
and especially if it embraces the Cross and wearies one to the core, and intercepts
our lovely agenda.
Hence our Lord says, “My peace
I give you… not as the world gives” (Jn 14:27)—since this peace comes through
grace not by works, for even attempts to chill cannot conjure such true peace. And
elsewhere, “My food is to do the will of the one who sent me” (Jn 4:34). For peace
is the fruit of doing God’s Will. A fruit we feast upon through yielding to It.
In fact the restful waters spoken of by the Psalmist— “He makes me to lie down
in green pastures, besides the restful waters” (Ps 23:2)—is the Will of God to
which Jesus the Good Shepherd leads us to rest in interior solitude, and to
feast in the Spirit upon the pasture of the Divine Peace, even if exteriorly
things are far from the ideal of ‘peace and quiet’. And so we read, that “He
restores my soul… He prepares before me a furnished table in the presence of my
foes” (Ps 23:3,5)—an allusion to that spiritual feast of interior peace decked
out upon the table of our faith, which can be enjoyed even in the midst of
outward disturbance and restless thoughts. Indeed, it is nothing less than a
spiritual communion.
The Dismissal
Finally, after compromising on
an initial vocalised plan (since Jesus’ plan was this all along…), and tending
to the spiritual and physical needs of His guests, we read the following,
translated directly from the Greek:
Immediately he compelled his
disciples to enter into the boat and to go before him to the other side, to
Bethsaida, until he himself dismissed the crowd. And having taken leave of
them, he departed into the mountain to pray. (6:45-46).
Let’s have a quick look at
some of the key words used here.
εὐθὺς
– ‘Immediately’
After Jesus had exercised the
charity which the occasion required He “immediately” told His Apostles (at
least—the word used is “disciples” and so there could have been more) to get
out of there and to find some literal peace and quiet. The adverb “immediately”
(εὐθὺς) reveals how important Jesus deemed such time for rest. He doesn’t
hesitate, thus teaching us that when the duty to our neighbour has been served,
and our original plan to rest and/or pray can now be actualised, we ought to
get right back to it. Not resentful of the ‘interruption,’ but nourished by the
grace of the encounter.
ἠνάγκασεν
– ‘He Insisted Upon the Necessity’
It then says that “he
compelled” (ἠνάγκασεν) or even more literally, “he made fully necessary” or “he
insisted upon the necessity”—that His disciples get back into the boat and go
away “to the other side” and rest “a little while”. This is strong language. He
knows they’re tired, in need of some time apart to regain their physical and
emotional strength, and to rekindle their spiritual fervour. So after the
mission at hand is accomplished He practically forces them into the boat, maybe
even shuffling them off into the boat Himself, and at least gesturing to make
like a banana and split. Here Jesus warns us against a kind of activism,
spiritual or otherwise, to which the Christian may slip into, as if to be a
good Christian is to be constantly on the go without spending time in prayer,
quiet fellowship with intimates, and little bouts of restful leisure. Jesus
tells us every now and then, especially if we’re getting too busy and
neglecting prayer above all: “Get back into the boat of making yourself available
to God, and rest a little while.” We need grace to recharge our souls, and
slices of time to restore our minds and bodies to their usefulness.
ἑως – ‘Until’
We also see that Jesus hangs
back to finish-up. This reveals to us that no matter what there’s only so much
we can do, and even when we do our utmost, it’s Jesus who must complete and
bring our works of charity to their perfection. We must adopt the posture of
surrendering to Jesus our works of love, and the intentions we might have to do
more for the person we’ve just ministered to. We must also make a prayerful act
of surrender, offering up the encounter we’ve just had, and that person,
instead of simply running back into our tortoise shell. There’s a reason that
intermission took place and by offering it up in prayer we give permission to
Jesus to perfect it, make it His own, and work more deeply in that person’s
life. In this way we do not waste the opportunities we have, nor leave them
unfinished in imperfection—but we allow Jesus to reign as King Shepherd in the
various shores of our encounters.
αὐτὸς
ἀπολύει τὸν ὀχλον – ‘He Himself Dismissed the Crowd’
Finally, we see that after
Jesus does what He has to do, He “dismissed the crowd”. He has no scruples or
guilt about sending them away when the Will of the Father has been accomplished
in this circumstance. He hasn’t neglected His sheep, He has fed them, and loved
them. But He is a man and He needs to recuperate, to pray and rest. And so He
dismisses the crowd—a crowd who would never leave if He didn’t initiate it.
Here we learn the lesson that
it’s okay to ‘dismiss the crowd’ when we’ve done our duty and loved in accord
with what the Lord was asking of us. It’s wrong to dismiss the crowd too early—and
this is perhaps the most common error, caused by an attachment to our own will
and agenda, instead of an open discernment to the Spirit. Yet on the opposite
extreme, it’s imprudent and unwise to never dismiss the crowd, or to do so much
too late.
However, most of the time we
don’t have to do any dismissing—the situation works itself out. But sometimes
we do have to encourage the other party to move on. There are so many ways of
doing so, and we can do so with sensitivity. Only rarely do we have to be a bit
more blunt, such as if the other party is like a pool ball incapable of taking
every cue we put their way.
ἀποταξάμενος
αὐτοῖς, ἀπηλθεν – ‘Having Taken
Leave of Them, He Departed’
At last, after all is said and
done, Jesus himself departs and prays in solitude by Himself on a mountain. This
reinforces everything we have spoken about. “For everything there is a season,
and a time for every matter under heaven” (Ecc 3:1): a time to rest, a time to
pray in peace; and a time to work, a time to serve such peace.
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