Bishop Glen John Provost
Bishop of Lake Charles
June 2, 2013
Feast of Corpus Christi
Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception 


“Then taking the five loaves and the two fish, and looking up to heaven, he said the blessing over them, broke them, and gave them to the disciples to set before the crowd.”  Luke 9:16

I have heard quite a number of interpretations of the multiplication of the loaves and fish.  One such interpretation circulating is that it is a story about sharing.  Jesus shares what loaves and fish he has, but the people had brought some food along with them anyway and they began sharing this also.  In other words, Jesus sets the example, the people follow it, and all are fed.  This interpretation, in my opinion, does not have narrative consistency, because it does not correspond to what the Gospel tells us.  So what indeed happens in the Gospel?

An enormous crowd had gathered around Jesus to hear Him teach and seek His healing.  Jesus spoke to them of the Kingdom of God and He “healed those who needed to be cured” (Luke 9:11).  They lost track of time.  The day drew to a close, and they had not eaten.  The Apostles suggested that the crowd be dismissed to find lodging and something to eat.  Jesus responded and said, “Give them some food yourselves” (Luke 9:13).  This, to me, is the turning point in the Gospel passage.  It is the very hinge of the door to understand what happens next.  The Apostles protested that they had only five loaves and two fish.  And, then, Jesus worked the miracle of feeding the multitude himself.  Jesus knew all along what He was going to do.  He knew from the start that they did not have enough food.  He knew that the Apostles were incapable of feeding the crowd.  “Give them some food yourselves” is a challenge to the Apostles.  One might almost call it facetious, because they are in fact unable to provide enough food.  The feeding of the multitude is not about what the Apostles can do, and it is certainly not about what the crowd can do for themselves.  It is about what Jesus can do.  And this is what Jesus does in the Eucharist.

As a matter of fact, the feeding of the crowd of thousands in the Gospel prefigures what Jesus will do in the Eucharist.  How do we know this?  In a number of ways, but I will cite a major clue.  When Jesus is presented with the bread and fish, the Gospel describes it this way, “Then taking the five loaves and the two fish, and looking up to heaven, he said the blessing over them, broke them, and gave them to the disciples to set before the crowd” (Luke 9:16).  Now, let us turn to one account of the institution of the Eucharist found in St. Paul.  This is how St. Paul describes it, “… the Lord Jesus, on the night he was handed over, took bread, and, after he had given thanks, broke it and said, ‘This is my body that is for you.  Do this in remembrance of me’” (I Corinthians 11:23-24).  He takes, gives thanks, breaks, and distributes.  This sequence of actions, described in every account of the Eucharistic institution in the Scriptures, was what I like to call a trigger.  They triggered a recall, an association, because they reminded the participants in the Eucharist of what Jesus was doing for them.  Whether in a catacomb in First Century Rome or in a medieval Cathedral or on a battle field in the midst of war or in this church today, when the faithful heard those words—took, gave thanks, broke and gave—they knew that they were in the presence of the Lord Jesus who was now giving them himself as food to eat.  “This is my Body.”  “This is my Blood.”  

“Give them some food yourselves.”   That is the challenge.  We cannot.  Only Jesus can.  The Eucharist is not about us.  It is about what Jesus can do and does in the Eucharistic sacrifice.  

In one of his early discourses, Pope Francis made mention of the Church being “self-referential.”   What does that mean?  It means centering in on ourselves, making religion all about us.  If Jesus taught us anything at all, it was that it is all about Him.  “I am the bread of life,” (John 6:35) He says in the Gospel of St. John.  “For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink” (John 6:55).  “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him” (John 6:56).  These are Jesus’ own words, not mine, not yours, not ours.  The antecedent of those pronouns is Jesus.  

I recall a bishop telling me that he always marveled when people told him that that they had left the church.  The bishop would ask them why.  The response, he said, not always but frequently was, “Because I found fellowship somewhere else.”  The bishop observed, “How strange!  They left the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Jesus Christ for coffee and donuts.”  

Our true and only fellowship is with Jesus Christ.  He understood this, and so should we.  Only once we have deepened our relationship with Jesus Christ can we turn and indeed have true fellowship and Christian charity with one another.  

“Give them some food yourselves” is a challenge to us, because we can give nothing apart from Jesus Christ.  The Eucharist points the way for this Christ-centered faith.  Without the Eucharist, our worship can soon become just fun and games, coffee and donuts, activities for the youth and socials for the elderly.  None of these are bad, you understand, but centering on them, pretending in some way that they are worship, is very empty.  But with the Eucharist, we discover a truly Christ-centered statement that apart from Him we can do nothing, that without Him we are left with only five loaves and two fish, but with Him the world can be fed.