John 6:4-5

CHRIST AND THE GREAT COMPANY

‘And the passover, a feast of the Jews, was nigh. When Jesus then lifted up His eyes, and saw a great company come unto Him, Be saith unto Philip, Whence shall we buy bread, that these may eat?’

John 6:4

In this miracle our Lord appears as the Master of matter—of material things, of natural laws. Let us, for one moment, endeavour to trace the contrast between the Son of Man and the sons of men in this respect.

I. We are the slaves of matter.—Not only is our bodily organisation material, but matter seems to penetrate into the very inner sanctuary of the mind, so that a great number of those words which denote intellectual acts are derived from material objects. Yet there is, of course, another sense in which man may look upon himself as the lord of matter and of natural things. Witness the triumphs of the present day. Witness the fairy tales of science and the results of time. And yet, when we come to look at it closely, there is nothing royal or masterful in it after all. How does man prepare himself for these great achievements? By the humiliation of his spirit. Man stands utterly impotent before law.

II. But our Lord exercises over material things a direct and illimitable power.—So, in this miracle, that which is not living is diminished by distribution; but He stands there apparently hour after hour in the midst of the multitude, and He takes the fragments of the five small loaves and of the two dead fishes, and impresses upon them the stamp of a higher life. There are around us thoughtful men, awed and terrified by the cold shadow of fatality, which seems more and more creeping on, and moving over what appeared before to be the domain of man’s free action, who say with awe and astonishment, ‘Do what you will, there is still the same broad, awful margin for vice and pauperism; still the hungry generations are treading down the weak and the despised. Shall there be no end of these things—no escape from them?’ Do we believe in the life of our Lord? Then, above and around these perturbations and irregularities of time and of sin, there is a calmer and diviner world, of which Christ is King.

III. The parable of the bread.—The ministry of our Blessed Lord consists of two great divisions—His words and His works. His acts speak; His words are works. His miracles are parables, if we can only read their meaning. We should be better able to understand the refreshment that may come to us from the parable of the bread, if we read it in the light of our daily prayer, ‘Give us this day our daily bread.’ What does that familiar petition mean? It means, no doubt, in the first instance, ‘Give us our daily food; give us food sufficient for us.’ Let us not spiritualise this away on the one hand, nor let us gird in those words with the narrow run of the loaf and joint. They mean, surely, something more than our daily food. Surely it is not in vain, too, that this miracle has been recorded by all the four evangelists that our minds might, so to speak, become saturated with it.

IV. It is the eternal parable of the eternally abiding Church of our ever-living and ever-present Lord in its agency amongst us. There are many substitutes for the bread of Christ. We have heard a good deal about a morality utterly without dogma, which is to work like an infallible charm; which is to convince every educated child that lying, and stealing, and disobedience will as infallibly entail punishment and evil consequences as putting his hand into the fire or jumping from the garret window. We have been told of a refined education, which, when men shall have to eat their bread in sorrow and bitterness, will teach them to take the world of art as a resting-place for their spirits, and to give a hush to all their griefs. If this be so, we may as well push away at once the thorn-crowned Galilæan, Who, from the centre of that true manhood of His, felt round the whole vast circumference of human sorrow. Are there amongst us any hearts that God once wounded, but which have been healed again? The fresh and dewy ocean breezes, the snowy heights of the Alps or the Pyrenees, to which you have carried your broken heart—are these the things that have given you rest? Has it not been kneeling at the Holy Communion, the quiet hours spent over your Bible, and the learning from that the hope of meeting in the everlasting heaven?

—Archbishop Alexander.

Illustration

‘ “A great miracle; but,” as St. Augustine says, “we shall not wonder much at what was done if we give heed to Him that did it. He Who multiplied the five loaves is He Who multiplies the seeds that grow in the earth, so that barns are at last filled by them. But because He does this every year no one marvels. Men marvel not at what is greater, but at what is rare. For Who is He that even now feeds the whole world, but He that of a few grains creates whole harvests? Christ wrought, therefore, as God. The power was in His hands; but those five loaves were as seed, not indeed committed to the earth, but multiplied by Him Who made the earth.” ’

(SECOND OUTLINE)

LOVE, POWER, ORDER

In this miracle we see the love, the power, and the order of heaven. The Good Shepherd was feeding His flock, and there was abundant provision for them all. ‘They did all eat and were filled. And they took up twelve baskets full of the fragments, and of the fishes.’ Nothing was wasted, nothing lost.

Probably in blessing the food our Lord would adopt the ordinary form of thanksgiving in use at the time. ‘Blessed art Thou, Jehovah our God, King of the world, Who causes to come forth bread from the earth.’

I. In this prayer we notice, first, the look up to heaven which is characteristic of man, who is God’s child, created in His image, that He may know, love, and gratefully serve his heavenly Father in the spirit of piety and holy fear. No animal looks up to God or knows Him as the source of all blessings. Prayer is the ascent of the soul to God, and prayer is one of the chief marks which distinguish man from the beasts around him. To live without prayer is to live the life of a beast, not of a man upon earth. Our Lord, Who, as Perfect Man, is our example, looked up to heaven, and blessed the loaves before He brake them. If we follow His example we shall never forget to ask a blessing on our food, and to give thanks for it after we have taken it.

II. The second thought given to us in the prayer is that it is God Who causes bread to come forth from the earth. The germination of seed, the rise of the sap in the trees, the ripening of the corn, fruits, and flowers, year by year, is a never-ceasing wonder. God is not Nature, and Nature is not God, but our Lord Jesus Christ taught us that it is God Who clothes the lilies and all the flowers with their colour, and gives them beauty of form and fragrant scent. What we commonly call Nature would have no existence but for the upholding and directing power of God. Jesus Christ has taught us to say, ‘Give us this day our daily bread.’ Living creatures, who need food for their sustenance, depend upon the Giver of that food.

III. Christ in His work made His disciples fellow-workers together with Himself.—He used their ministry in feeding the multitude. Christ did not specially create the barley loaves and fishes, but took them out of the hands of a lad who was standing in the crowd, blessed them, and gave them to the apostles for distribution. Had the disciples taken the bread to the people without first bringing it to Christ, St. Andrew’s remark, ‘What are they among so many?’ would have proved true. In all work done for God’s glory and the good of men, we should begin by bringing whatever we have to Christ for His blessing. He is with us still as the Head over all things to the Church, which is His body.

Rev. Canon Bodington.

Illustration

‘All our earthly comforts come to us originally from the hand of Christ; whoever brings them, He sends them; He distributes to them who distribute to us. So of spiritual blessings; in distributing the Bread of Life to those that follow Him, He is pleased to make use of the ministration of His disciples; they are the servitors of His Table, or, rather, rulers in His household, to give to every one their portion of meat in due season.’

(THIRD OUTLINE)

SUPERFICIAL, YET PROFOUND

The miracle wrought. We learn from it (1) superficial lessons; (2) profounder lessons.

I. Superficial lessons.

(a) A lesson of considerateness in little things. No great suffering or distress would have befallen the multitude had they gone away without a meal; only inconvenience. But this inconvenience the thoughtfulness of the Saviour would spare them.

(b) A lesson of order. The men carefully arranged in plots, with broad passages between them. No confusion. The whole scene, busy as it was, characterised by the most perfect quietude and propriety.

(c) A lesson of economy. Possibly the disciples surprised to find Christ attaching so much importance to fragments of coarse food, especially after such a wonderful display of His power. But every gift of God to be made the most of. Fragments of time, money, opportunity, influence not to be flung away, but used.

(d) A lesson as to the source of our blessings. The food conveyed to the recipients by the disciples, but Christ the real Bestower of of it. So our blessings, temporal and spiritual, come to us through the instrumentality of other men—parents, friends, ministers—but all to be traced up to Christ Himself.

II. The profounder lesson.—Christ the Sustainer of spiritual life, as He is the Giver of it. At the present moment it was not revealed that He sustains this life by imparting Himself. But the revelation was soon made in the synagogue of Capernaum, and the miracle prepared the way for it.

Rev. Prebendary Gordon Calthrop.

Illustrations

(1) ‘All other miracles of Christ are of a restorative character; but this is a grand exhibition of creative goodness, and, as such, stands alone in the Gospel narratives. It is, indeed, so remarkable that even John, who professes to give the words of Jesus rather than the acts of Jesus, records it fully.’

(2) ‘Still to-day Christ gives both rest and food to all who come to Him. Still to-day “He fills the hungry with good things.” Dr. Arnot tells of a young Scotch girl who was sent to Madeira to escape the cold of a winter in Scotland. She wrote home a charming account of the place, of the climate and the landscape. And even in the matter of health there was neither sickness nor pain. But there was one sad complaint running through the letter—she could not eat. If only the appetite returned she felt she would be well. The next mail brought the news she was dead and buried. She died not for want of food, but from want of hunger.’