Take what you need—and no more

A Reflection for Tuesday after Epiphany

Find today’s readings here.

Is it egregiously late (or, depending on how you look at it, early) in the season to reference “It’s A Wonderful Life” in a reflection?

In my annual rewatch this past December, I was misty-eyed at the scene when a run on the bank puts George Bailey’s Building and Loan in jeopardy. Townspeople who have their money in the Building and Loan rush through its doors, hoping to claim what they’ve put in. Try as George might to explain that that’s not how his business works, people’s desperation comes through. How are they going to live if they can’t access their money?

It’s then that George’s wife, Mary, holds up the wad of cash they were planning to use for their honeymoon and asks the crowd how much they need. It’s up to George and Mary to spread their own money out among the needy, lending enough for folks to get by until the bank reopens. Some people in the crowd are particularly mercenary, saying that whatever they have in the Building and Loan is how much George and Mary should loan them right now. But slowly, a spirit of understanding and shared suffering takes hold: One by one, the townspeople start to quantify just what they would need to last out this period—and no more. A tear rolled down my cheek when after several people asked for $20, one woman asked for a very specific and very frugal $17.50.

As kind and generous as George Bailey might be in this moment of crisis, he’s not Jesus. He’s not performing a miracle, at least not in the New Testament sense we might picture. But when I watched this scene, I thought of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes, which we read in the Gospel reading from Mark today.

When the disciples suggest that the crowd listening to Jesus should disperse so they can buy themselves something to eat, Jesus has a better idea: “Give them some food yourselves.” The disciples are, understandably, incredulous. They weren’t planning to feed thousands of strangers, and they don’t have enough to take care of everyone. But with just five loaves and two fish that they have on hand, the whole crowd is ultimately—miraculously—satisfied.

Mark’s Gospel says that Jesus blesses and breaks the bread, and that he divides the fish among everyone. But Mark’s description of just how the supply ends up being enough for the crowd is unlike some other miracle passages in the Gospels. It’s different in its mechanical description of what Jesus does to make the miracle happen. We aren’t explicitly told that Jesus waved a hand and then the five loaves became five thousand, or anything like that. We are simply told that the supply was divided and that it was enough. Everyone was satisfied.

Is it possible that Jesus did make five become five thousand? Of course, God can do that. But we can’t. Any multiplication of loaves and fishes (or other resources) in our own lives is miraculous insofar as we do that division work as a group, as we understand how to take what we need and not more. Sharing is an art, but it’s also not as complicated as we sometimes make it. “It’s A Wonderful Life” presents a patron saint of sharing the load when one woman says she can get through the week with just $17.50.

Feeding people, caring for them, sheltering them and loving them is our business. In practical daily life, we are often dealing with limited resources as we try to live out these Christian calls. The Holy Spirit enters our midst when we see shared suffering for what it is. Our hearts shift from saying “I’ll take what I’m owed” to instead “I’ll take what I need—so my neighbor can do the same.” In a world such as ours, that’s a miracle.

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