Jesus Feeds the 5,000

A whole big hillside of hungry people

Jesus and His twelve friends had paddled across a big blue lake to find a quiet place to rest. But everywhere Jesus went, people wanted to be near Him. They had heard about His miracles. They had heard about His kindness. So they came running.

By the time Jesus stepped out of the boat, a huge crowd was already waiting on the grassy hillside. Mommies with babies. Daddies with walking sticks. Big kids and little kids and old grandpas. Five thousand grown men — and that wasn't even counting the women and children. It was a small town's worth of people, all sitting on the grass, all looking at Jesus.

Jesus didn't get cross with the crowd. He had compassion on them. He healed the sick. He told them about His Father in heaven. He taught them all afternoon long.

The sun started getting lower. The shadows got longer. And the tummies of five thousand people started growling.

"Where can we buy bread?"

Jesus turned to one of His disciples, a man named Philip. There was a little twinkle in His eye — He already knew what He was going to do.

Philip blinked. "Buy bread? Jesus, there are FIVE THOUSAND MEN here! Even if we worked for months and months, we wouldn't have enough money to give each person even a tiny mouthful!"

Just then, another disciple — Andrew, Simon Peter's brother — came pushing through the crowd. He had a little boy by the hand. And the little boy was holding a small picnic basket.

Five small loaves of bread. Two little fish. That was the boy's lunch. It was hardly enough for the boy himself. But the boy held out his basket and gave it to Jesus.

"Have the people sit down."

Jesus smiled. "Have the people sit down on the grass," He said. The disciples scratched their heads — but they obeyed.

They told the people to sit in big groups, like party tables on the grass. Groups of fifty. Groups of a hundred. Until the whole hillside was speckled with little circles of seated people, waiting to see what Jesus would do.

Jesus picked up the boy's five small loaves. He looked up at heaven. He thanked His Father. And then He began to break the bread.

Jesus broke. He gave. The disciples carried baskets. They handed out bread. They handed out fish. They went back to Jesus for more. And Jesus broke and gave again. And again. And again.

Up and down the hillside they walked, passing out food. The boy watched, with his eyes as wide as saucers. Mommies fed babies. Daddies handed pieces to grandpas. Children stuffed their cheeks. Everyone ate. Everyone smiled. And everyone — every single one of those thousands and thousands of people — had as much as they wanted.

Twelve baskets of leftovers

When everyone was full, Jesus told the disciples something wonderful. "Gather up the leftover pieces. Don't let anything be wasted."

So the twelve disciples went back through the crowd with their baskets. They picked up the leftover bread. They picked up the leftover fish. And when they counted up their baskets at the end —

Twelve baskets. From a single boy's lunch. There was more food after everyone ate than there had been to begin with.

The people on the hillside looked at each other. They looked at their full tummies. They looked at the twelve overflowing baskets. They looked at Jesus. And they began to whisper:

They were starting to understand. The boy who gave his lunch already did.