It was crowded. It had probably been so for days on end, possibly weeks and months. So many people. So many needs. So little time. So much noise.
Enough is enough sometimes, or so Jesus seemed to say as he invited his disciples to leave it all for a little alone time.
“Let’s take a break and find a secluded place where you can rest a while,” he said. And I’m pretty sure his friends sighed as they slipped into their sailboat to reach that silent shore.
And then it happened, as it often did. The crowds caught on and began the chase on foot. And wouldn’t you know it? “By the time Jesus came ashore, a massive crowd was waiting” (Mark 6:31-34 Passion).
Are you feeling it? I am. But it’s the internal crowds I’m referencing now. Mine are a motley mob made up of questions and concerns, of what-if’s and worries. Maybe your crowd contains grief or anger, regrets or failures, critical voices that follow you wherever you roam.
As I listen to mine, it’s fear I hear. They’re a noisy lot, this bunch, as they jostle for position, call for attention, push and press to get their needs met.
“You should send the crowds away,” the disciples said to Jesus, and I echo their sentiments 100% (Mark 6:36 Passion). We came here for quiet, not more crowds.
But Jesus called them to compassion. To have compassion on that which crowded them. Oof, Jesus!
He sat them down, these multitudes, in orderly fashion on patches of green. And he fed them full. Every last one.
I want Jesus to dismiss my fears and disperse them, but he dines with them instead. Jesus literally feeds my fears.
And I wonder if he’s onto something, because he usually is. Might I have compassion on that which crowds me — the what-if’s and worries, the questions and concerns? Instead of trying to shoo them away or shut them out (which honestly makes them shout all the more), might I invite them to sit a spell instead? To settle down on a green patch of grass and be fed the faithfulness of God?
May we feed our fears, not so they will grow larger, but rather become satiated and settled, ready to be dismissed in peace.
Feed your fears. Set a table for that which you can’t outrun.
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REFLECTION & RESPONSE
Ponder:
What crowds do you struggle to outrun, and what is the make up of them?
How do you feel toward them?
What do you think they need to be fed in order to be dismissed in peace?
Practice:
On individual note cards or pieces of scrap paper, write down the names of those things crowding you. Then lay out a picnic blanket and spread those papers out on it. Pick one up at a time and address it. Listen to what it has to say. Offer it care in anyway you can.
Play:
The song we’re playing is: Come Sail Away by Styx.
Pray:
Feed my fears, God, with your faithfulness. Amen.
“I want Jesus to dismiss my fears and disperse them, but he dines with them instead. Jesus literally feeds my fears.“
I am actually just learning this now at my age about those invisible crowds called
the emotions. Learning what to do with strong emotions and sitting with them for a little while. Dining with them as you say.
Feed them…until they become my friends? Just like actual strangers. Once we dine with people, they are no longer strangers to us.
Love it!