Brooklyn Jubilee

Sometimes the simplest passage of the Bible can change everything about how I look at the world. I try to read the Bible to my infant son Judah every night before he goes to bed, and even though at his age he’s mostly interested in tearing the pages, it’s an important time for both of us. Two weeks ago I had an epic moment reading to Judah. It didn’t feel epic at the time, but after it marinated in a couple days of prayer, I saw how special it was.

In Luke 9:10-17, Jesus feeds 5,000 men (and who knows how many women and children?). The familiar story of this miracle starts with just five loaves and two fish. The disciples are incredulous when Jesus directs them to feed the crowds, rather than sending them away to find their own food. Impossible! But Jesus asks them “How many loaves do you have?” and tells them “Go and see.” So they do. It turns out the disciples have nothing, but a small boy in the crowd gives up his five loaves and two fish. The disciples must have felt foolish handing the boy’s lunch over to Jesus, as if these provisions could make any difference in meeting the needs of the crowd, but in Christ’s hands the food multiplied and satisfied every one there, with leftovers to spare.

You can take from this a message that God can provide for us in any circumstance, but what I see is how God can provide through us with our scant provisions. Though the disciples were called to a seemingly monumental, even ridiculous, task, Jesus asked them to first assess what they had and then offer it up to him for his blessing, before they dismissed the call.

What I see Jesus telling his followers is this: “What you hold in your hands does not matter. My power is all that matters. Give it to me, stand back, and see what I will do.”

And so I prayed. I prayed for God to bless us, despite the few resources we have, despite my limitations, despite me, in every sense. It’s been just two weeks since I read that text to Judah, and God is indeed blessing Brooklyn Jubilee. Last week I had an outstanding meeting with one of the major public hospitals in Flatbush, promising generous support to our efforts to serve the health care needs of the community. Rather than perceiving us as a threat, or a nuisance, or irrelevant, they are enthusiastically supporting our efforts, and the relationship promises to be an abundantly fruitful one. It is the kind of miraculous blessing I have no right to expect, and yet I prayed, offered up what little we have, and God is graciously blessing us.

This kind of watershed moment is huge for someone like me who tends to focus on the size of the problem, and not meditate on the power of God. I’ve been weighed down on many evenings with a sense of responsibility, anxiously seeing what little I have to offer against the size of the problem, feeling a constant sense of our inability to meet the tremendous needs around us. I feel those burdens lifted, and true joy in service taking its place.

For many years I’ve had a quotation from Mother Theresa taped to my computer; “Happiness is the sign of a generous person.  It is often the mantle of self-sacrifice. Joy is the surest way to announce Christianity to the world.” They are words that I have aspired to even understand, let alone live out. Today I am praising God for more joy, for the power of his Word, and for the gift of serving him, and my neighbors, through the ministry of Brooklyn Jubilee.

Sandhya Reju Boyd, Director