“Then, having come to him, the Tempter said, ‘If you’re the Son of God, speak so that these stones become bread'” (Matthew 4.3).
“Jesus said to them, ‘There’s no need for them to go away. You feed them'” (Matthew 14.16).
The assumption I had, that I was taught was that this first temptation was about faith and trust in God. See, Jesus has been fasting for an extended period. He’s hungry. The Evil One comes to him and says, just turn these stones into bread. Satisfy your hunger. Jesus’ response would appear to play into this: one doesn’t live by bread alone.
But what’s begun to nag at me is that, in this interpretation, this first temptation doesn’t fit with the other two. Both the temptation to throw himself from the height of the temple and to take over the world are external: they involve the people at large and Jesus’ place amongst them. They’re public displays that exhibit power to any and all. So, if we read this first temptation as a private one, a seduction to satisfy Jesus’ own need (which no one would ever know about), it seems to stand apart from these other temptations.
I’ve begun to consider that this idea of turning stones to bread is less about Jesus’ hunger and more about abundance.
Throughout his ministry, Jesus presents to us a present Reality of God, this place where the first are last and everyone gets invited to the feast. It’s a counter to our understanding of the world as a place where there’s not enough and, consequently, we must constantly concern ourselves with gathering as much as we can. This is not, to be clear, Jesus saying we shouldn’t plan for rainy days and our golden years and put some money back for when the roof needs fixing. This is about gathering and keeping out of fear.
This theme fits into the history we have in Scripture, specifically when the Children of Israel walked in the wilderness. Each day, except the Sabbath, manna appeared like dew on the ground. Everyone gathered enough for their families for the day. Any leftovers would go moldy by the next morning. Jesus, in the Sermon on the Mount, echoes this with his admonition not to worry about having enough for today. Look, he said, at the birds and the flowers.
We see this Reality clearly when more than five-thousand people are fed. Jesus has been teaching for hours to a crowd that is not going to let him leave until it’s too dark to see. The Disciples whisper to him that he needs to send these folk on home. It’s late, and they need to get some dinner.
Jesus response is almost absurd. You feed them. In my imagination the initial response was, Do what? Jesus then repeats himself, and the Disciples tell him that there isn’t enough money amongst them to buy enough food for all these people. Inflation, you know.
Both this moment and the temptations Jesus faced highlight an important rule: in spiritual matters, no one asks you to do something you’re incapable of doing. The fact the Evil One tempted Jesus with this notion of turning rocks into food meant that Jesus was capable of doing so. And asking the Disciples to feed this crowd meant they were, whether they knew it or not, able to do just that very thing.
This brings us back to Jesus’ reason for refusing to do what he was perfectly capable of doing. Why not turn stones, boulders, whole mountains into food? Because, that would contradict one of Jesus core teachings: that there was enough.
In the moment, to the hungry, a simple miracle like the Evil One suggested may not seem like much. But it is. To transform elements that were inedible into something edible would have meant admitting to a need for more. It would have contradicted Jesus’ conviction that there was enough edible food in this world. There was no need to miraculously and supernaturally produce more.
It’s this same conviction that inspired his words to his disciples: you feed them. It sounded like foolishness to those men; because, unlike Jesus, they saw only scarcity. For them, this world did not hold enough. And, in their defense, they, like us, saw the privileged and wealthy with their storehouses and tables heavy with food. None of them had that sort of means. They were working folk who were trying to scrape out enough to keep the lights on and maybe, just maybe retire before they were too old to enjoy a life after work.
Jesus also saw those vaults and pantries bulging at their hinges. He saw those who chose to trust in the idol of Mammon—whose protection always demanded more. And he knew, in the true Reality, that those people were like those in the wilderness who went out and gathered more manna than they needed, and who found it moldy and inedible in the morning.
This refusal to give into temptation is important to us. We should be generous and give what we are able to help those who the economy of our country and our world has failed. But it’s about more than that: it’s about believing that this world has enough. It is about living into the Reality Jesus saw and taught us about.
Because when we live as if this world can be one where five, ten, one-hundred thousand can sit on the banks, eat, and get up satisfied we call out the lie of the one who tempted Jesus in the wild places. The same lie that the Evil One has convinced those of wealth and power as truth. And in so doing, we reveal the true word that Jesus spoke to his disciples.
You, yes you, can feed them.
Bread-breaking feeder of many, give us eyes to see your Reality where there is enough for every table and mouths that speak of your abundance so all may come to believe what you told us was true; so that those who are hungry may eat and be satisfied.