Homily – 18th Sunday
Ordinary Time – Year A
Bring Me What You
Have
A Catholic Homily
on Matthew 14:13–21
Deacon Pat Kearns
Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary Parish
Today's Gospel is one of the most beloved miracles in all of
Sacred Scripture—the feeding of the five thousand.
Most of us remember the miracle itself: five loaves, two
fish, and thousands of people fed. But if that's all we see, we miss the deeper
message that Jesus wants us to hear.
Because the greatest miracle didn't begin when the bread
multiplied.
It began the moment someone was willing to place what little
they had into the hands of Christ.
And perhaps that's exactly where Jesus meets each one of us
today.
Before we talk about bread, fish, or miracles, notice how
today's Gospel begins.
Jesus has just received heartbreaking news. John the
Baptist—His cousin, the one who prepared the way for Him—has been brutally
executed by Herod.
Jesus withdraws to a deserted place.
He wants time to grieve.
He wants silence.
He wants to pray.
But the crowds find Him.
Imagine how tired He must have been. Imagine the sorrow He
was carrying.
Yet the Gospel tells us something beautiful.
"His heart was moved with pity for them."
Even in His own grief...
He notices theirs.
Even in His own suffering...
He heals theirs.
That is the heart of Jesus.
He never stops seeing us.
He never stops loving us.
He never stops caring.
And that becomes the foundation for everything that follows.
Now, as the day wears on, another problem begins to emerge.
The people who had followed Jesus all day are becoming
hungry.
The disciples see the problem immediately.
But they don't yet see the possibility.
The disciples come to Jesus with what sounds like a very
practical solution.
"Lord, send them away."
They aren't being cruel.
They're simply being realistic.
"There isn't enough food."
"There isn't enough money."
"There isn't enough time."
"There isn't enough."
Doesn't that sound familiar?
How often do we look at difficult situations through exactly
the same lens?
"There isn't enough patience."
"There isn't enough strength."
"There isn't enough hope."
"There isn't enough faith."
And sometimes we quietly pray the same prayer:
"Lord...
...send someone else."
Jesus hears their concerns.
But instead of agreeing with them...
He gives them one of the most challenging commands in the
entire Gospel.
Jesus says,
"You give them something to eat."
Can you imagine the disciples looking at each other?
"There are over five thousand men here—not counting
women and children!"
"We barely have enough food for ourselves!"
"What do You expect us to do?"
Then Jesus asks an incredibly important question.
"How many loaves do you have?"
Notice what He does not ask.
He doesn't ask,
"How much do you wish you had?"
He doesn't ask,
"Why didn't you prepare better?"
He doesn't ask,
"Why aren't you more talented?"
He simply asks,
"What do you have?"
That question echoes through every generation.
It reaches all the way to us.
"What do you have?"
Many years ago, there was a little boy who loved helping his
grandfather build things around the house.
One Saturday his grandfather was repairing an old wooden
fence.
The little boy wanted to help, so he proudly ran inside and
returned carrying his tiny plastic toy hammer.
His grandfather smiled.
"That little hammer isn't going to drive these
nails."
The boy lowered his head, disappointed.
Seeing the sadness in his grandson's face, the grandfather
knelt beside him and gently said,
"Then give me what you have."
The grandfather took the tiny hammer and used it to tap in a
few small finishing nails while the boy stood beside him beaming with pride.
Years later that little boy said he never forgot that
moment.
His grandfather wasn't looking for a perfect tool.
He was looking for a willing heart.
That's exactly what Jesus does.
He has never asked us to have everything.
He simply asks us to give Him what we have.
And isn't that the struggle most of us face?
We spend so much of our lives focusing on what we lack...
that we overlook what God can do with what we already
possess.
How often do we say:
"I'm too old."
"I'm too young."
"I'm not educated enough."
"I've made too many mistakes."
"My marriage isn't perfect."
"My prayer life isn't where it should be."
"I don't have enough money."
"I don't have enough time."
"I don't have enough faith."
Jesus gently answers every one of those excuses with the
same invitation.
"Bring Me what you have."
Because the miracle has never depended upon our abundance.
It has always depended upon our willingness.
But today's Gospel isn't only about trusting Jesus with our
gifts.
The Church has always recognized that this miracle points us
toward an even greater gift.
One we celebrate every time we gather at this altar.
The early Christians immediately recognized something
extraordinary.
Watch carefully what Jesus does.
He takes the bread.
He looks to heaven.
He blesses it.
He breaks it.
He gives it to His disciples.
Does that sound familiar?
It should.
Those are the very actions we witness at every Mass.
This miracle is preparing us for the Eucharist.
The miracle of five loaves fed thousands for one afternoon.
The Eucharist feeds souls until the end of time.
Today Jesus still takes ordinary bread.
But through the power of the Holy Spirit...
it becomes His Body.
Not a symbol.
Not merely a reminder.
But Christ Himself.
The Bread of Life.
The One who satisfies every hunger of the human heart.
There's another beautiful detail that's easy to miss.
Jesus performs the miracle...
but He chooses not to distribute the bread Himself.
Jesus places the bread into the hands of the disciples.
The disciples carry it to the people.
Why?
Because God almost always chooses to work through people.
He works through parents teaching their children to pray.
Through grandparents sharing their faith.
Through priests.
Through deacons.
Through teachers.
Through neighbors.
Through ordinary people living extraordinary faith.
He chooses to work through us.
You may never preach to thousands.
You may never perform miracles.
But you can bring Christ to someone through one act of
kindness.
One conversation.
One invitation to Mass.
One visit to someone who is lonely.
One moment of forgiveness.
Sometimes we underestimate what God can accomplish through a
simple act of love.
Perhaps that's especially important to remember because many
of us feel like we're living in our own deserted place.
And that's exactly where today's miracle happened.
Notice where Jesus performs this miracle.
Not in Jerusalem.
Not in the Temple.
Not in a palace.
But in the wilderness.
That's comforting.
Because many of us are walking through deserts right now.
Perhaps your marriage feels dry.
Perhaps you're grieving someone you've lost.
Perhaps you're worried about your children or grandchildren.
Perhaps you're carrying anxiety about your health.
Perhaps someone you love has drifted away from the Church.
Or perhaps you're simply exhausted.
Here's the Good News.
God doesn't wait until we're out of the desert.
He often performs His greatest miracles right in the middle
of it.
Sometimes the very place we think God has abandoned us...
becomes the place where He feeds us most deeply.
And finally, Matthew gives us one last detail.
It's so simple that we often read right past it.
But it's one of the most hope-filled verses in the Gospel.
After everyone had eaten...
the disciples collected twelve baskets of leftovers.
Not scraps.
Not crumbs.
Twelve baskets.
Why?
Because God's generosity is never barely enough.
His mercy overflows.
His forgiveness overflows.
His grace overflows.
His love overflows.
The world teaches us to live with a scarcity mentality.
"There isn't enough."
God teaches us to live with confidence in His abundance.
There is always enough grace for today.
Enough mercy to begin again.
Enough strength for the next step.
So I'd like to leave you with one question to pray about
this week.
What are the five loaves and two fish in your life?
Maybe it's ten minutes of prayer you've been postponing.
Maybe it's making that long-overdue Confession.
Maybe it's forgiving someone.
Maybe it's serving in a ministry.
Maybe it's encouraging someone who feels forgotten.
Maybe it's simply trusting God with something you've been
trying to control.
It may seem insignificant.
But placed into the hands of Christ...
ordinary things become extraordinary.
St. Teresa of Calcutta once said,
"Not all of us can do great things. But we can do
small things with great love."
That is the heart of today's Gospel.
Jesus isn't asking for what you don't have.
He is asking for what you do have.
Your time.
Your talents.
Your wounds.
Your family.
Your struggles.
Your hopes.
Your heart.
Bring them to Him.
Place them into His hands.
Because when Christ blesses what we surrender, He always
multiplies it—not only for our own lives, but for the life of the world.
And one day, when we stand before Him in eternity, we may
finally discover that the smallest gift we entrusted to Jesus became part of a
miracle far greater than we ever imagined.
Amen.
