I love the story of the feeding of the 5,000. I was thinking that potentially quite a lot of the 5,000 missed the miracle. They were part of the crowd; people were passing food around, bit of bread, a little bit of fish… very nice. Then a man, this Jesus fellow that they had heard a bit about – perhaps rumours of healings or stories of troublemaking, whatever – they thought he might be worth going to listen to. But they may not have realised they were part of a miracle.
We don’t know for sure (it would seem out of character) but I imagine Jesus’ first concern was not for everyone to know about the miracle. There is no formal announcement from Jesus reported by the gospel writers: ‘Just to let you know, at the beginning of this talk, there was free bread and fish given out, it was actually a miracle that I performed on your behalf, being the Son of God as I am, to ensure you did not continue to feel hungry…’.
Consequently, I wonder how many people actually said thank you to Jesus, I wonder how many people even acknowledged him as they left. Or how many were taken up with their own stories, and their own full stomachs. I can only assume that however the meal ended, Jesus didn’t receive the thanks he deserved! ‘Deserved’… now that’s a loaded word.
I think as a youth worker I have something to learn from Jesus here. In the simple miracle that is feeding young people or offering them shelter of the space I call youth club, I sometimes I find it frustrating that I’m not appreciated. In fact, sometimes I’m walked right past and ignored, sometimes I wonder if they realise who I am at all. Yet the longer I dwell on this, the more I see that it’s my problem more than it is theirs. Youth work confronts us with our own insecurities and ego to fully engage with the young people we meet.
Jesus said ‘For I know where I’ve come from and where I’m going’ (John 8:14 NIV). Christ’s security, his sense of ‘self’ and his calling, was placed not in people thanking him for the miracles performed. Jesus knew his worth as the beloved of God. So we too are challenged to know the voice of God as one who calls us in our work and tells us who we are. Our worth is in God’s call of love to us which has been there from the beginning – not in the acts we perform.
This way of being and of knowing ourselves is not only important for our wellbeing, but also for the lives we model to young people. I’m often struck by the people in my life that I feel are secure within themselves, I’m drawn to them, their experience and wisdom. Really however, I’m drawn to the God who they are allowing to speak through them.
My prayer for my ministry and yours is that we will allow God to speak through us in this way: to hear his voice, even in our own brokenness and vulnerability, not looking to hear praise for what we have done, but meditating on what was said over us from the beginning, that we are the beloved of God.
James Fawcett lives in London and works with Concrete Youth.