Each of the gospel writers records the life of Jesus in a different way. Only Matthew and Luke, for example, include stories about Jesus’ birth; and John is the only one who tells us the story of Lazarus being raised from the dead. In Matthew we get the Sermon on the Mount, while Luke seems to recall that the same sermon actually took place on a wide plain.

But one story that all four gospel writers remember is the miracle of the loaves and the fish. It is a story that emphasizes Jesus’ ability to provide not only for our spiritual needs, but also for our physical needs. When people were sick, Jesus healed them … when they were sad, he comforted them … and when they were hungry, he fed them.

According to Matthew’s account, there were five thousand men present—and so, when you add in the women and children, Jesus practically ends up feeding a small town. But it is a miracle that almost didn’t happen, because the disciples’ initial suggestion was to send everyone home. It’s not that they were uncaring; they were simply being practical. After all, night was falling, they were out in the middle of nowhere, and frankly, their own stomachs were beginning to growl.

But Jesus had a better idea. “They need not go away,” he tells the disciples. “You give them something to eat.”

I wish I had been there to see the look on their faces. They must have thought that Jesus had been out in the sun too long. “Lord, there are over five thousand hungry people out there. How can you ask us to give them something to eat? We barely have enough here to feed ourselves.”

“Then bring me what you have,” said Jesus.

More than anything else, I think that invitation is the key to understanding this story—because while God is ultimately responsible for this miracle, the disciples still have to do their part. Or to put it another way, this is not a story in which the disciples just get to sit back and watch for a miracle to occur. It’s almost as if Jesus had said, “Stop thinking that bread is suddenly going to fall from the sky and share what you already possess!”

“Bring me what you have”—that’s the point when true discipleship begins, isn’t it? Because that’s the point when we stop waiting for a miracle and start participating in one. We may look at our meager contributions and think that there will never be enough to go around, but God looks at the very same offering and says, “I can do wonders with that! Just bring it to me.”