Readings:
Isaiah 55:1-3
Psalm 145:8-9, 15-16, 17-18
Romans 8:35, 37-39
Matthew 14:13-21

When my nine-year-old asks me to make her a piece of toast or a bowl of cereal, tasks she could capably manage all by herself, the most charitable reading of the situation might be that her childlike innocence echoes the eager delight of those who heard God’s words through the prophet Isaiah:

You who have no money,
come, receive grain and eat;
Come, without paying and without cost,
drink wine juice* and milk!

(* because wine is for grown-ups only in our house)

However, upon further probing, her response was, “Why should I do it when you can do it?” She would rather focus her kitchen energy lately on food preparation that is more fun, like following simple recipes from start to finish, with adult supervision available for steps involving knives, flames, or decoding unfamiliar directions. Such skills lie within what educational psychologists call her zone of proximal development, the sweet spot where activities currently too difficult to do alone become manageable with guidance from someone more skilled who helps scaffold the parts of the process the learner cannot yet handle independently. Making muffins or macaroni and cheese is exciting these days in a way that making toast or cereal is not anymore because the potential for growth, challenge, and iterative mastery seems long gone.

Faced with a multitude of men (about five thousand of them) plus many more women and children (not even counted closely in this Gospel story), the disciples are daunted. A grieving Jesus has already done much more this day than previously planned when his deserted retreat destination quickly becomes populated by people hungry for hope, for help, maybe even for a miracle. The embodied love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord reveals itself as Jesus’ heart was moved with pity for these people, and he cured the sick among them. The disciples assume that even Jesus himself can do no more at this moment. Continued compassion would involve sending all these followers (who were not followed to this deserted place by food vendors) away to find food to fill their bodies.

Jesus’ response likely surprises and confuses the disciples: “There is no need for them to go away; give them some food yourselves.” This seems utterly impossible, but they quickly find themselves in the zone of proximal discipleship. What the disciples cannot do by themselves, they discover they can do with Jesus’ help. Jesus first guides them in reassessing their resources. They are not starting with nothing. They have five loaves and two fish, fruit of the earth and sea and, in the case of the loaves, also work of human hands. The gifts of God, minimal though they might seem in relation to the scope of the need, are already among them; these raw materials are plenty to proceed to giving God thanks and praise (i.e., to do eucharist), especially if the people are primed to be patient. (The large crowd, by this point, is sitting on the grass, and the disciples’ initial dismay has likely opened to cautious curiosity about what Jesus will do next.) They watch Jesus model the moves of eucharist – taking, blessing, breaking, and giving. In the end, it is not the hand of the Lord that feeds the crowd directly. Rather, after breaking the loaves, Jesus “gave them to the disciples, who in turn gave them to the crowds.” The hands of the disciples mediated God’s miracle such that they did indeed give the people some food themselves. They even passed around more than enough for everyone, collecting twelve wicker baskets full of leftover abundance. With Jesus’ help, they became able to accomplish exactly what Jesus asked them to do.

When it comes to the Church’s Eucharist, we Christians will remain always in the zone of proximal discipleship. Eucharist will never be an object we can make or manage by ourselves but an activity we do with Jesus when God’s gathered people invoke the blessing of God’s bounty upon earthly elements through the word of Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit so that we who eat and drink the gifts God gives back might be transformed and strengthened for mission. Again and again, we witness what little we have becoming all that we need. Christ himself feeds us followers with his own Body and Blood, food that still passes through the hands of human ministers to feed the people who keep coming, hungry for God. In our other ministries too, especially ones we have been learning for a long time, the responsibility remains to explore the leading edges of our zone of proximal discipleship where we experience growth, challenge, and regular reminders that we have the capacity to do what we do only through continued cooperation with Christ. This will keep what is miraculous in our ministry from becoming mundane for us and for those who hope to encounter the fullness of God’s grace that sometimes passes through our hands, whether it is distributing communion to the faithful as ordinary or extraordinary ministers or teaching children or fundraising so God’s people can procure what they need for themselves. Finally, the next time we are met with an obligation or opportunity that seems well beyond our current capacities, we might discern whether this “impossibility” might equal an invitation to cross over again as an absolute beginner, accompanied by the inseparable love of God working with us in Christ, into our expanding and exhilarating zone of proximal discipleship.

Anne McGowan
Associate Professor of Liturgy