“Where are we to buy bread?”

“Where are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?”

That was the question the ABB Board and Staff were asking ourselves a few weeks ago, when we heard the news that Amazon Fresh was closing all their stores. For over a year, Amazon Fresh has been a very generous source of surplus produce, meat, and stapes, providing half of the donated food we offer at the pantry. And so we immediately asked the same question Jesus' disciples asked, when a crowd of over 5,000 people in a desolate place were starting to get hungry: “Where are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?” (John 6:5). 

Although Arlington is a wealthy county by national standards, nearly 10% of our residents live below the poverty line. With rising housing costs and unemployment rates, more and more families have less and less money to spend on food. It’s often the first way to cut back. 

It’s not that they are going hungry; rather they are not sure how they are going to feed their families this month. They’re anxious. Fearful. They are facing “food insecurity.” According to an Arlington County report last year, over 26,000 residents are currently facing food insecurity.

To meet this gap, Arlington Bridge Builders provides a food pantry in the poorest zip code of Arlington, that feeds over 1,000 people each week. And so when half of our food supply instantly dried up, I’m anxious too. We’re asking the same question disciples asked in this story: “where are we to buy bread, so these people may eat?”

What do you do with your anxiety? You can try to suppress it and put on happy face. You can try to manage it, by taking a walk. You can double down and work harder on solutions.

Or you can see it as a pathway to where Jesus is leading you. He wants to take you somewhere. 

That’s what the well-known miracle of Jesus’ feeding the 5,000 does. It’s the only miracle of Jesus that appears in all four gospels. Somehow it’s significant to the gospel writers. Jesus performs miracles not to impress, but to reveal. This one reveals something important about who Jesus is, why he came.

But miracles also reveal something in us. They push us, challenge us, to see the world, Jesus, and ourselves differently. 

Prior to the miracle, Jesus sent his disciples into Galilee to teach and to heal. They’re doing the very things Jesus was doing. There’s a great response, so much so that even Herod–the king over Galilee–hears about it and asks, “who is this Jesus?” Imagine that: lowly peasants, fishermen, are getting the attention of the king. 

The disciples return and excitedly report back to Jesus. Jesus wants time alone for them to rest and process, so he takes them on a retreat alongside the northeast coast of the Sea of Galilee. But “when the crowds learned it, they followed him, and he welcomed them and spoke to them of the kingdom of God and cured those who had need of healing.”

Things couldn’t be going better. It’s early in the day, and a real movement is underway. It’s easy to trust Jesus in the morning, when things are going well. Your job is secure, you have what you need, your health is good.

But after a long day of teaching, the crowd is getting hungry. The disciples don’t want people grumbling, so they make a plan: V. 12 “Now the day began to wear away, and the twelve came and said to [Jesus], “Send the crowd away to go into the surrounding villages and countryside to find lodging and get provisions, for we are here in a desolate place.” But Jesus responds, “you give them something to eat.” 

Hang on there, Jesus. We’ve already asked around. V. 13 “We have no more than five loaves and two fish—unless we are to go and buy food for all these people.” There is nothing we can do, so send them away. A perfectly reasonable solution–but it doesn’t involve Jesus.

In John’s account of the miracle, we learn Jesus knew what he is going to do, but engages the disciples to test them, to help them see what’s in their heart. Jesus is poking around, asking the question: who do you trust? Who do you really trust? Your default solution. Your first impulse. The miracle reveals their functional trust is in themselves. 

It’s the lens through which we naturally see the world, ever since life went off the rails in the garden. We can say in our head we trust God, but deep down, peel back the layers, and what’s our core internal operating system? 

Self-sufficiency. It’s up to me to make life go well. I need to add something, to fix things.

There’s a story about a man who owned a baseball signed by Babe Ruth. It was worth a lot of money. But over time, the ink started fading. So the man took out a pen, and carefully traced over the letters: B-A-B-E, R-U-T-H. He felt he needed to add his touch. But in doing so, he made the baseball worthless. 

The ABB board and staff added our signature when we first heard Amazon Fresh was closing. Sure, we believe Jesus is our King, Redeemer, friend. But our first response showed our functional trust: let’s see if another store will open in that location. We need to contact Capital Area Food Bank right away and order more food. Let’s contact other grocery stores. Perfectly reasonable solutions, that don’t involve Jesus. Just like the disciples.

Because deep-down, we’re self-sufficient. It’s up to us to make life go well. We are the solution. It’s experientially and theologically our most natural response. But self-sufficiency doesn’t just hinder relationship with Christ. It kills it. It keeps Jesus on the sidelines, in the upper deck. It turns you into a servant, not a son or daughter. To truly enjoy life in the kingdom of God, we have to start treating self-sufficiency like an enemy. Like a cancer on the soul. 

You know the story: Jesus takes those loaves and fishes, and multiplies them to feed the 5,000. Jesus performs this miracle to say, “I am the vine, you are the branches. Apart from me you can do nothing. Stop trusting in yourself. Trust me. I am more than enough.”

• I am more than enough for your fears; you can trust me with what’s making you anxious.

• I am more than enough for your sin; you don’t need to add a thing.

• I am more than enough to satisfy your deepest desires; you don’t need to look elsewhere.

And who got it right in the story? The insignificant peasant boy, who trusted Jesus with all he had. Surely in that huge crowd there were other people with food, but only the boy offered anything. Everything. What made him different?

Surely he had been paying close attention that long day—listening to Jesus talk about life in God’s kingdom, watching him demonstrate his power over sickness, disease and sin—and knew he could trust Jesus. And so he opened his lunch sack and his heart to Jesus. In the entire crowd, the boy was the one whose gifts God used to feed 10,000 people, with more than enough food.

Arlington Bridge Builders is seeking to be like the boy. Rather than getting anxious over our food supply, we’re offering everything we have, trusting Jesus is more than enough to feed the physical and spiritual needs of our neighbors. And ourselves.