Abundance!

Introduction

The plural of fish

Today we again have the story of the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes. Right off the bat let’s get something straight: what in the world is the plural of fish? Is it fishes or fish? One day a TV announcer specializing in trivia, said, “When you have fish from the same species (like ten perch), then you say “ten fish,” but when you have a number of fish from different species (like a perch and a catfish and a blue gill), then you say “fishes.” That bit of trivia should put your mind at peace, as I say “fishes” in the homily this morning. One of the two fishes in today’s gospel was a perch and the other was a catfish, and don’t ask me how I know. From here on the plural of fish will be fishes.

A liturgical cadence & a babble of numbers

The story of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes comes up frequently in the reading of scripture at Mass. That’s because it is recorded in all four gospels. (Mt 14:13-21; Mk 6: 30-44; Lk 9: 10-17; Jn 6:11-14). It doesn’t often happen that one and the same event is found in all four evangelists. The story is found in all four gospels because the early Christian communities would often relate the miracle of loaves and fishes in the celebration of the Eucharist. It was appropriate for the occasion, for in the Eucharist, as in the story, many people are fed with so little. When Communion time comes the whole congregation arises, and out of two small golden dishes many are fed. Told over and over again in the early church, the story of the loaves and fishes eventually came to be written down by all four evangelists.

By that time the story had acquired a kind of liturgical cadence. In the liturgy of the Mass the celebrant says that Jesus "took the bread, raised his eyes to heaven, blessed it, broke it and gave it to his disciples saying, `This is my body.’” That same crisp liturgical cadence can be heard in the gospel account of the miracle of loaves and fishes.

By the time the story of the loaves and fishes came to be written down, it had also acquired a kind of babble of numbers. In Matthew’s account of it there are 7 loaves and 2 fishes. 4,000 people are fed, and there are 7 baskets of leftovers (Mt 15: 32-38). In John’s account there are 5 loaves and 2 fishes. 5,000 people are fed, and there 12 baskets of leftovers (Jn 6: 1-13). Some wonder whether these are two accounts of two different events or just one account with no scrupulosity for mathematical accuracy. So what 5 or 7 loaves? So what 4000 or 5000 people? So what 7 or 12 baskets of leftovers. It’s not the mathematic accuracy of the story, but its religious meaning that counts.

Casa

On State Street, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, between Ninth and Tenth, is the historic church of St. Benedict the Moor. It is the first Catholic church in Milwaukee to dedicate its ministry to the Afro-American community. Some years ago when you went west on State Street and looked to your right, you saw the strangest salutation written in bold letters on the doors of the church hall: Loaves and Fishes. Welcome!

That, too, is a story about numbers. It begins with 2 people, Mike and Nettie Cullen who had 5 loaves and 2 fishes and wanted to share them with the poor. So they opened their little house to anyone who was hungry. Soon there were 5, then 10, then 20 people dropping in for supper. Soon there were others with loaves and fishes who also wanted to share, and lo and behold, the original 5 loaves and 2 fishes were multiplied a hundred times over. The original miracle was living on.

St. Ben’s Operation Loaves and Fishes

The Cullen’s little open house came to be called Casa Maria, and their sharing and their invitation to others also to share came to be called Operation Loaves and Fishes. With the multiplication of hungry people and also with the multiplication of loaves and fishes to be shared, the little operation became so big it had to go in search of a more spacious banquet hall. After wandering through the desert and stopping here and there momentarily, the big operation finally came to rest at St. Benedict the Moor Church. On Friday the 13 of November 1970, it opened for the first time in its new location. I was there to witness that great event. That Friday 13^th was, indeed, a lucky day. Through 36 long years Operation Loaves and Fishes has broken bread with four or five hundred people 6 days a week, not just on Thanksgiving or Christmas, for people get hungry more than twice a year.

That daily meal is now a personal gift of ordinary people just like you and me from all parts of the city and beyond and also from all different philosophies and theologies. Once a month, when it is your turn, you personally prepare one of the dishes in your home. You pack it up and bring it down with your kids. You help in multiplying the loaves and fishes by personally serving the food. The environment at St. Ben’s is safe for you and your kids. It’s safe especially for the guests of the meal who know well the lack of compassion in the world out there and the violence of the streets. For the moment they feel safe. For the moment they’re treated as guest. For the moment they experience unaccustomed signs of respect and gentleness, and that, indeed, is food and medicine for them.

Spiritual food at St. Ben’s

Breaking bread at St. Ben’s with hungry and lonely and unfortunate people helps you to see that the facile answers you entertain for certain problems might be convenient but they are not true or fair. There you learn also not to judge, even though you want to. Experiencing the Benedict Community Meal speaks powerfully without words to you and your kids about the evil of drugs and alcohol or about the pain of loneliness. The experience is a hundred time more efficacious in preparing your kids for Confirmation than any classroom instruction. Ben’s Community Meal speaks powerfully to you about the unfairness of that Great Sower called Birth who randomly casts us as seed on either the right or wrong side of the tracks. It quietly has you exclaiming, “There go I but for the grace of God!” Operation Loaves and Fishes makes you and your kids count your blessings, even though you don’t have a Porsche or a BMW. Sometimes it even has you exclaiming with Jesus (what you never really believed before) that the poor are, indeed, blessed, and the kingdom of God is, indeed, theirs.

All are fed

The Benedict Community Meal is not an assembly line or feeding trough. It is really a family table. It fosters a family spirit in which the feeders (those fortunate people from all parts of the city and beyond) are in some mysterious way fed as they serve food to the hungry. And the ones who are fed (those unfortunate people from here and there) are in some mysterious way feeders. They, too, bring something to the meal to share. It’s something very specially their own. At Ben’s all are in need: not only those who are fed but also those who feed. They, too, come with needs. They, too, are hungry. And they, too, are fed. After personally helping to serve the food, they fill a plate for themselves and their kids and sit down with the guests to eat not only loaves and fishes but spiritual food as well.

The breaking of bread at Ben’s doesn’t divide people into those who feed and those who are fed; rather it brings everyone into communion. In that regard Operation Loaves and Fishes is far more Eucharistic than some of our Eucharists. Sometime ago I concelebrated at the funeral Mass of a very dear friend who died in the operating room as his wife and I were anxiously waiting outside. I participated at the funeral Mass, not as the chief priest but as the homilist. Everything went off well enough until it was time to break bread and bring people into communion. At that moment the chief priest said, “Catholics may now come up and receive Holy Communion!” Catholics know when it is time to come up and receive Communion. At the very moment when bread was to be broken and shared and bring people into communion, it broke them up into Catholics and non-Catholics. The day when Jesus multiplied the loaves and fishes it was open communion: bread was broken and all were fed. No questions were asked. The only condition was that people be hungry. At Ben’s community meal, too, there is open communion. Bread is broken and all are fed. No questions are asked. The only condition is that you be hungry.

Out of a job

One final remark about Ben’s Community Meal to reassure all those of us who rightly suspect any operation of charity. Charities are, indeed, very ambiguous things. You can give people bread to keep them subservient. In Dostoevsky’s Brothers Karamazov the Grand Inquisitor says to Christ, “Give the people bread and they will run after thee like a flock of sheep, grateful and obedient." You can give people bread to maintain the status quo and keep the lid on (i.e., to prevent revolution). You can give people bread to obligate them or to sooth your conscience or to simply get rid of them because you don’t want to deal with them. Tom Plakut who masterfully guided Operation Loaves and Fishes for many years at St. Ben’s had it all down right. He said, “As long as the needs addressed by our meal have to be solved in an institutional setting like St. Ben’s, we have failed. It is when we have closed our doors because neighbors are sharing with one another, like the original Cullen kitchen, that we have succeeded.”

That’s my plug for Benedict Community Meal. I never go down there anymore, but I left some of my heart there. If you’re interested in sharing your 5 loaves and 2 fishes, you can call that parish and they’ll put you in touch.

A tapestry of loaves and fishes

In those early days we would periodically celebrate Operation Loaves and Fishes with a Eucharistic liturgy. On those occasions we would borrow an artistic piece of tapestry from the art museum of Alverno College. It is the work of a famous Milwaukee artist, Sister Helena Steffensmeier, SSSF, now deceased. We borrowed her piece so often the museum finally gave it to us.

When that very artistic lady executed her tapestry she had her New Testament opened not to Matthew with his 7 loaves and 2 fishes but to John with his 5 loaves and 2 fishes. That very spiritual lady was not concerned with mathematic precision but with religious meaning which she wonderfully wove into her work. She stitched in 5 small loaves and 2 small fishes way up on the top of her work. You can easily miss them because she has squandered the rest of the tapestry upon three monotonous rows of four big baskets each filled to the brim and overflowing with leftovers.

Conclusion

“Abundance!”

Her tapestry glows not only with artistry but also with meaning. The 12 large baskets overflowing with leftovers scream out “Abundance!” There is an abundance of bread in your lives. Share it. There is an abundance of blessings in your lives. Count them. Count your blessings even though you can’t afford a Porsche or BMW. Count your blessings even though you have to pay $3.15 for a gallon of gas. Count your blessings especially now as missiles are raining down in northern Israel and as bombs are defacing the beautiful land of Lebanon, and you are spared the unspeakable grief and suffering of war. Count your blessings and you’ll find they’re overflowing with an abundance that fills 12 baskets with leftovers.