When Jesus Wept - By Bodie Page 0,40

in, so my house will be full. I tell you, not one of those men who were invited will get a taste of my banquet.’ “4

Though my countrymen were untrained in the art of war, I was also aware that our citizens vastly outnumbered the foreign troops who occupied our land. There were, in all, only about three thousand Roman legionaries in the entire territory. Their leaders were only men. With Jesus at the head of our army, certainly Pilate and Herod and Caiaphas knew we could overwhelm them.

I was certain our overlords considered Jesus’ popularity as dangerous. It was nearly noon, and the hungry pilgrims were stirring when I spotted Marcus Longinus and a Roman tribune.

Both men were listening intently to the teaching of Jesus. The tribune’s expression was grim as he surveyed the pilgrims. Perhaps it occurred to him that a Roman tribune would be among the first to die if this crowd rioted.

There was no place close enough to buy bread for such a mob. Jesus’ disciples approached him. I could not hear the discussion, but suddenly a command was given.

“Sit down! Sit down! Groups of fifty and one hundred! Sit down!”

“But where’s our food?”

“What will we eat?”

“There’s nothing to feed our children!”

A small boy in a striped tunic was brought forward to Jesus. The child offered his meager bundle of food: five loaves and two fish. Jesus placed his hand on the boy’s head and thanked him. Then he held up a pitiful barley loaf and broke it, raising his voice in a b’rakhah: “Blessed are you, O Lord, King of the universe, who gives us bread from the earth!”

The boy’s loaves and fishes became a banquet. Jesus broke one loaf, and always there was more in his hands. As one lights a single candle and the flame is spread to others, so the five loaves in the hands of Jesus multiplied to fifty and five hundred and five thousand, spreading across the field.

I received my ration within minutes. The bread was warm and fragrant, as though it had just come from the oven. I tasted. Like the wine at the wedding, the taste of the bread Jesus provided was beyond comparison.

It was the final proof of Jesus’ identity. The prophet Moses fed our ancestors in the wilderness for forty years, and here Jesus was doing the same. There was enough for everyone. From so little, there was so much remaining that twelve disciples with baskets were sent out to gather the excess. The baskets returned to Jesus, filled to the brim and overflowing with bread.

At the base of the hill, people began to chant, “Hail, Jesus! Our King!”

Others joined in until the mountains rang with the shouts that Jesus must be crowned.

I finished my meal and turned to go, hoping like the rest that Jesus would enter Jerusalem at the head of an army.

I made my way toward Jesus through the thousands. Some clutched remnants of bread. In every circle I heard voices exclaim:

“There is no doubt he is the prophet we have been waiting for!”

“This Jesus can feed us as Moses gave bread to our fathers in the wilderness!”

“We will never go hungry again.”

“Declare him King! The Romans and Herod have no power over such a man!”

“Isn’t it written in Torah?”

“Moses said plainly, ‘The Lord your God will raise up for you a prophet from the midst of your brethren like me! To him you shall listen!’ ”

“Moses fed our fathers bread for forty years in the wilderness! Now Jesus will do the same!”

By the time I reached the knoll of the hill where Jesus had been teaching, the Lord had slipped away. I asked Peter, “Where did the Lord go?”

Peter stood beside the heaping baskets. “Gone. Off by himself. He knows they meant to seize him and crown him by force. He won’t have it, so now he’s gone.”

The pilgrims dispersed and drifted away when they saw the Lord had gone. I stayed with the Twelve until evening. We waited until dark, and still Jesus did not return.

“Come on,” Peter said to us. “My boat’s there, on the shore. Let’s sail home to Capernaum. There are the lights of the village across the water. An easy trip.”

I believed that men who made their living fishing at night could easily navigate our craft across the lake. I followed the fishermen and climbed into Peter’s boat.

I sat in the bow silently contemplating Moses’ prophecy about the coming Messiah. Today’s miracle of feeding the thousands was