Women of the Gospels: The Mother Who Packed the Bread and Fish

Rabbi,  

How can I ever express my gratitude for how your teachings transformed my son and, in the end, led my heart to You?

At just 9 years old, Nathanael fell in with the wrong group of children and got into significant trouble with the authorities. While other boys his age spent time with their fathers learning the family trade of carpentry or fishing, Nathanael, being our second oldest, was tasked with helping me at home. His father, my husband, worked long hours in the vineyard with our eldest son, Caleb. It was peak grape season and with three other young children to care for, I truly needed Nathanael's help.  

Nathanael has always been a playful child. He loved to run and play with the other children after his time spent at the synagogue for schooling. He was always obedient and would gladly do his chores and willingly fetch more water or gather extra wood. 

One day, the spark in his eye extinguished. He wasn’t his usual self and admitted that his go-to group of friends excluded him. They made fun of him for doing ‘housework’ or ‘girl chores’ like feeding the animals and hanging laundry on the line to dry. He was deeply hurt. 

His pain manifested in misbehavior. His daily tasks of gathering wood and fetching water began to take longer. He became mischievous around the house and jaded towards his younger siblings. I had to beg him to assist with anything around the house, and the animals he once loved were left unattended and neglected. His demeanor was unbearable. Where did my sweet, playful boy go? 

My heart sank the day a neighbor knocked on my door with Nathanael at her side. She told me she watched my Nathanael steal from a vendor at the market. Such unlikely behavior! 

I learned he met some older boys at the well when fetching water, who challenged him to steal a fig from the elderly vendors at the market. Still hurt from his friends, he was desperate for attention from peers and went along with the dare. The next day, they dared him to steal some salt, then honey, and so on. He thrived off the adrenaline and attention.

It was not until an agitated fish seller seized him by the arm and scolded him before the whole market that I could no longer pretend his behavior would correct itself. It was in that moment I knew my son's behavior was putting our family's reputation at stake, and I could not risk market vendors losing their trust in us. I relied on their livelihood to feed my children.

What was I going to do? Discipline was at the bottom of my priority list. My husband would return home after a long day in the vineyard, discipline Nathanael as he saw fit, and leave the follow-through of consequences to me. I felt as though I was barely staying afloat with the care of my other children, garments to mend, bread to knead and then bake. How was I ever going to stay consistent in the correction of Nathanael's behavior? Was I failing him?

I began to pray. Begging for the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob to change something in my son. To change something in me.

And then one day something really did change! My once unruly child came home from school with enthusiasm and a spark in his eye. He heard about a Miracle Worker who was raising the dead and healing the broken.  Who was this man who had the ability to  heal the paralytic living down the street (Mark 2:1-12) and bring sight to two blind men (Matthew 9:27-31)? Who had the authority to cast out demons (Matthew 9:32-34) and was unafraid to speak to the lepers (Matthew 8:1-4)?  Who was this person who had the ability to raise the daughter of Jairus from the dead and heal the woman suffering from a hemorrhage for years (Mark 5:21-43)?

Jesus. The Miracle Worker was You, Jesus!

At the sound of Your name and Your mighty works, my sweet boy returned! 

He renounced the life of thieving. He graciously did his chores and gently played with his younger siblings. He simply wanted to do better because he wanted to be more like you. He sought You out any chance he could.

A day came when a great crowd followed You up the mountain. My son caught word of what the hustle and bustle was all about in town and begged me to let him go see You! With his mischievous past and only recently regaining trust in the market, I agreed to let him go, but with my supervision. With a babysitter for the youngest three, a packed lunch of five barley loaves and two fish, Nathanael and I set off for the mountain.

There were thousands of people gathered on the mountain that day. I suddenly felt hesitant about being there. Who was I to listen to the Teacher? Was I worthy enough to be there? I felt guilt for leaving my other children plus I had housework and Passover preparations to finish. I was allowing the distractions from my day-to-day life keep me from fully submerging myself in Your true presence.

We ended up towards the back of the crowd, barely able to see You, let alone hear Your teachings, yet I was content! To be honest, I was afraid that if I actually heard everything You were saying, instead of bits and pieces, my life would have to drastically change out of the conviction of the heart. And so I remained comfortable. But Nathanael, with our precious food in hand, took off running! He HAD to get closer. He wanted to swallow every word that poured from Your mouth. How I wish I had his confidence to follow You!

My stomach began to rumble and I knew I needed to get closer to You, to find my Nathanael, if I wanted to eat.

It was then that I caught a whiff of a familiar bread.

I looked up to see You, Jesus, the Bread of Life, break the very loaf of barley bread I made just that morning. It was my grandmother's recipe, one that I adore, but many consider to be the food of the poor. Next thing I knew, every mouth was fed the exact replica of bread and fish that my Nathanael carried in our lunch sack. How was this possible? 

You, Divine Multiplier, make all things possible. 

You fed more than five thousand people that day upon the mountain, a miracle that led many hearts to believe that You truly are the Messiah. I saw more than a miracle that day, I watched Your love become tangible. You took an ordinary loaf, bread I prepare each week with my own hands, and multiplied it until even the hungriest were satisfied. In doing so, You answered a deep longing within the crowd to be cared for with tenderness and love. Your generous act of abundance drew people out of themselves and opened their eyes to the needs of those around them.

You knew that by drawing my son close to You, You were actually making Yourself available to his mother, and my life will never be the same!

With a satisfying appreciation,

The Mother who Packed the Bread and Fish

Dear reader, while the story of the young boy with the loaves and fish is mentioned in John’s Gospel, this letter, told through the lens of his mother, is a work of fiction. She is not mentioned anywhere in Scripture but inspired by a moment I had in prayer a few weeks ago. I was praying with the story of the multiplication of the loaves and fish and just like the little boy’s mother, I imagined myself standing at the back of the crowd. Did I really want to get closer? I had allowed small obstacles to stand in my way from getting closer to Jesus. Those obstacles were ordinary pieces of my daily life that, instead of becoming a prayer or an offering, became an excuse for certain behaviors.

We all know the conviction that accompanies close proximity to our Lord. The closer we get to Him, the more we experience His sanctifying grace. He challenges us to change and although that change is redemptive, it can be hard to let go of certain behaviors or sinful characteristics. It takes a childlike trust!

We can look to children as our example. Their childlike faith becomes a roadmap that we, as adults, are invited to follow. The little boy did not need to witness a miracle in order to believe in Jesus. As soon as he heard about Jesus and the goodness that followed Him, The little boy pursued a relationship with Him. He refused to remain at the back of the crowd. Instead, he pushed forward, knowing that Jesus was all he needed. Oh, how we could all use a bit of that same enthusiasm!

Jesus, create in me a childlike faith. Draw me close to You with a holy curiosity, similar to a child eager to understand something profound. Remove the obstacles that stand in my way. May the insecurities I carry about my worth, and the hidden burdens of my daily life, no longer hinder my enthusiasm for a relationship with You. Renew in my heart the belief that You are all I need. Amen.

Until next time, your sister in Christ,

Abby

**If you would like to pray further with the story of the multiplication of the loaves and fish, open your bible to John 6:1-15. Take it one step further and place yourself in the story. Where are you standing in the crowd?