Then Jesus called his disciples to him and said, “I have compassion for the crowd, because they have been with me now for three days and have nothing to eat; and I do not want to send them away hungry, for they might faint on the way.” The disciples said to him, “Where are we to get enough bread in the desert to feed so great a crowd?” Jesus asked them, “How many loaves have you?” They said, “Seven, and a few small fish.” Then ordering the crowd to sit down on the ground, he took the seven loaves and the fish; and after giving thanks he broke them and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And all of them ate and were filled; and they took up the broken pieces left over, seven baskets full. Those who had eaten were four thousand men, besides women and children. After sending away the crowds, he got into the boat and went to the region of Magadan.
Matthew 15:32-39 (NRSV)
If you’ve been reading through Matthew, this story probably looks a little familiar. It was only a chapter ago that we saw Jesus (or, more specifically, his disciples) miraculously feeding a crowd of 5000 men along with women and children.
The stories are not just similar in events, they are similar in the specific language and sentence structures used. Other than some specific details, the only substantial difference is that, in this story, Jesus verbally says things at the beginning that are a summary of the beginning thoughts and dialogue back in chapter 14.
So, what does this mean?
One option is that it doesn’t mean anything. Jesus happened to have two experiences that were almost exactly the same right down to the opening thoughts and dialogue. This is possibly the most “conservative” option in the sense that it would make these stories in Matthew simply reports of exactly what happened in Jesus’ life. It just so happened that Jesus, being an unusual person, had the same unusual event happen twice and be almost identical.
I think this is possible but unlikely. This story reads almost like a copy and paste of Matt. 14:13-21 with some tweaks (this is also the case with the two accounts in the gospel of Mark). The coincidences, if they were coincidences, would be shocking in and of themselves, even apart from the fact that a miracle is at the heart of these stories.
On the other hand, we have to take into account that Matthew’s author is not an idiot, and neither was Mark’s. They obviously know these two accounts are very similar and they are intentionally present together.
It could be that our gospel writers are preserving two accounts of the same event that differ in some details. This does happen in the Scriptures from time to time, although often the two accounts are interwoven into one story. It’s easy to imagine that Mark pulls together multiple sources, but it seems unusual to preserve two narratives of the same event by portraying them as two, different events separated by other events. It is possible, however.
As we think through our options, one thing we need to keep in mind is that our four Gospels are neither journalism nor biography. Nobody is following Jesus around with a notepad chronicling his words and actions. Our Gospels are stories about Jesus written quite some time after Jesus’ death. That doesn’t make them untrue, nor does it mean their historical claims are just creative fiction. It does mean, however, that they are reconstructive stories about Jesus, not news articles or biographies in the sense that we think of biographies.
Think of it like this: what’s the difference between writing a biography of Martin Luther King Jr. and a novelization of the life of Martin Luther King Jr.? There’s certainly some overlap between those two projects, right? You’ve got the historical figure and you’ve got the contours of his life. But one of those projects is aiming for more of an objective, “scientific” presentation of King’s life, perhaps with an analysis of his impact, while the other project is interested in telling a compelling story.
In a novel of Martin Luther King’s life, conversations and events will be presented narratively. It is quite likely that the events presented in such a work will do some dramatization. Events the author was not present for will need to be imagined and/or derived from other sources. Dialogue will be presented narratively, and the odds are good the novel will not be presenting the exact words said or put everything in all the right characters’ mouths. It doesn’t make the novel untrue; it does mean that the novel’s primary concern is telling a story, not objectively reporting facts, and while it intends to faithfully present Martin Luther King Jr. to you, it’s going to take some liberties in order to deliver the meaning the story is supposed to have.
Now, if you were writing a novel about Dr. King’s life, you’d have a lot of existing written material, both primary and secondary source, to rely on. In the case of our Gospel writers, they don’t. Their material is a lot more scattered and hard to come by and, by the time the Gospels are written, already dependent on various stories that have gone around.
Here’s where I’m going with this: we have to understand the Gospels are, in many ways, dramatizations. That doesn’t mean their source information is untrue; it does mean we are looking at a dramatic reconstruction of events, not the transcript of a video camera recording. The writer shapes the story being told and does so for various reasons.
These stories sometimes give us clues that this is happening. For example, in Matthew 14, Jesus feeds a crowd of 5000 men along with some unnumbered women and children.
Really? Exactly 5000? They took the time to count all the men for some reason (tax purposes?) and came out with exactly 5000?
In our story, today, we have 4000. Exactly 4000? A while back, he fed exactly 5000 men and, this time, they counted everyone again and it came out to exactly 4000?
Does it seem likely these are objective facts, or does it seem likely these are big, round numbers used in a dramatic recounting?
So, when we read the Gospels, we want to ask why a story was told and why it was told a certain way. Maybe not every little detail “means” something, but more is being revealed to us than simply the raw events described.
In the previous passage, I talked about whether this crowd was predominantly Jew or Gentile and how that affects the meaning. I’m not going to rehash all those arguments, and I encourage you to read that post because a lot of what is said, there, applies here.
I do want to add a few reasons that come up specifically in this part of the story that lead me to believe the crowd is Gentile.
In the first place, there are less of them (exactly 1000 less, as it happens). This is perhaps the primary difference in the details of this story and the miraculous feeding in Matthew 14. The main strategy Jesus has employed with Gentiles is to avoid them altogether. In the rare instances when Jesus ministers to a Gentile, he likes to keep things under wraps. The consistent message we witness and that comes from Jesus’ own mouth is that Gentiles are not the focus of his ministry; he was sent to the lost sheep of Israel. These episodes are exceptions that happen on the way. They may give us hints that Jesus’ work will eventually have meaning and ramifications for the Gentiles as well, but this doesn’t happen during Jesus’ regular ministry.
I admit that a crowd of 4000 is not a small number, nor does it really qualify as keeping things under wraps, but 4000 is a nice, big, round number less than 5000, and that may be our indicator that this crowd is “lesser” compared to the feeding of the 5000 in Matthew 14. There’s fewer of them because Jesus isn’t focused on them.
Another potential indicator is that we get five baskets of leftovers. In the other story, we got twelve. The disciples go out in Jesus’ name bringing miraculous food to the people and return to Jesus with twelve baskets. While this may be an incidental detail, it’s hard not to think of the twelve tribes of Israel.
Here, we have seven baskets brought in. Seven is a number of perfection and fullness. It’s also the number of days in which God created the world including humanity’s common ancestor. It’s also the number of laws that define a righteous Gentile in Jewish tradition (the seven Noahide Laws).
But aside from these details, one has to ask why we even have this story if the crowd are not Gentiles. We have a perfectly good story of Jesus miraculously feeding Israel and bringing them in as the good shepherd should. What’s the point of including, later, another story that is almost exactly the same, even in the language used, except the numbers are smaller?
I’m not saying we couldn’t come up with reasons; I’m saying that, in my opinion, this story’s very existence makes more sense if what we’re seeing here is Jesus replicating a miracle that was done for Israel to a crowd of Gentiles.
And if this is so, then what we’re seeing is a preview.
Right now, saving the faithful from a coming judgement is very much focused on Israel, but after this, judgement will roll out to the nations, and so will the salvation of a faithful people of God. This people will, of all things, incorporate faithful Gentiles.
And what is it that will identify these faithful Gentiles? Their faith and belief in what God has done in Jesus Christ. By sharing this characteristic with faithful Israel, these people who were not God’s people will be called His people. They will receive the promises to Israel’s patriarchs and receive the Spirit of Israel’s God, and God’s people will be saved into the age to come at least in part because it now includes these people. These Gentiles will come to Jesus in droves, and this will overthrow the Empire.
What we see here, I’d argue, is a picture that forecasts that day. It’s a distant rumble of thunder that happens hours before the storm hits – where Israel’s promised shepherd and deliverer feeds a crowd of Gentiles because he has compassion for them.
If this is true, then the Canaanite woman deserves a lot of credit and air time, because it was her faith, persistence, and sharp reasoning that brought Jesus’ arc into this trajectory.
We might really owe her.
- What elements of meaning from Jesus’ initial feeding of the 5000 might carry over to a crowd of Gentiles? Which ones might not?
- If we think of Gentiles as the latecomers, what implications does this have for how we (I’m a Gentile) see ourselves in the story of the people of God? What virtues should this engender? Does this impact how we view Jewish people?