Feeding God's People

By Josh McDermid

How could I be capable of being a priest? I mean, clearly, I am too sinful. Too self-centred. How could I ever do it? These are things that I ponder from time to time and perhaps you do too. Dealing with our own insufficiency is surely a common feature of this journey of trying to respond to the call to ordained priesthood that each of us sense we have. And I think it is within this context, that the Gospel passage we have just heard can particularly resonate with us.

 

There would seem to be two sides to this: one more challenging and one more consoling. On the one hand, today’s version of the ‘Feeding of the Five Thousand’ forms part of the so-called ‘Bread of Life Discourse’ in the sixth chapter of John’s Gospel. Hence, we understand it as a pre-figurement of the Eucharist, that ultimate act of self-giving, of self-sacrifice. So, it is certainly not a matter of us just throwing our hands in the air, and saying it is nothing to do with me, God will do it all. We are called to imitate Christ in his self-sacrificial love. And so, God-willing, when we are ordained priests, but, at times, are at risk of falling into despair and thinking it is all too hard, we will be reminded by those words which we will so often say “This is my Body, which will be given up for you” that whatever little we do have, we need to offer it up in sacrifice. This is clearly the challenging part.

 

The more consoling part is what the Gospel says about this question of insufficiency. Faced with the dilemma of feeding the five thousand, the materials that Jesus has at his disposal seem grossly insufficient, just a boy with five barley loaves and two fish. And yet not only are the five thousand fed, but there are twelves hampers left over. Hence, if we apply this analogously to the priesthood, we can see that it is certainly possible for God to take very flawed men, who are seemingly insufficient, and through the Sacrament of Orders, feed his people spiritually. We can take consolation in the knowledge that despite our imperfect humanity, God’s grace can enable us to produce abundant fruits in our future ministry.

 

And if we are looking for an example of this, there is someone especially obvious (at least to us). Several times a day, we are greeted, albeit in sculptured form, by none other than the patron saint of parish priests, St John Vianney [there is a statue of St John Vianney in the seminary chapel]. Famously, he was a flawed seminarian, so academically inept that he was originally sent home from the major seminary. Thinking of St John Vianney’s seminary formators one can perhaps sense echoes of the disciple Andrew when he says in the Gospel: “There is a small boy here with five barley loaves and two fish; but what is that between so many?” We can imagine his formators, saying something like: “John is such a dim man, what could he possibly contribute to the Church as a priest?” And yet, St John Vianney had a strong sense of what was most important, the salvation of God’s people, and gave his life over completely to this. Hence, through his long hours in the confessional and passionate preaching he fed the people of God in his parish of Ars. And the overflow, the metaphorical twelve baskets, was seen in the way in which people would travel to Ars seeking his counsel, and is still seen in his intercession from heaven, and in the inspiration he continues to provide to people to this day, particularly to seminarians and priests.

 

And so, when these difficult questions of our own insufficiency for so daunting a vocation as ordained priesthood reoccur as they surely will, we can return to this Gospel and to the example of the Curé of Ars, and be reminded that in the pattern of the Eucharist we are called to give ourselves completely, but that even when we think we have so little to give, God can multiply our self-offering in ways that are far beyond our comprehension.

 

St John Vianney, pray for us.