last pitch

funny how growing up catholic
(or anything I guess)
you hear the same stories
over and over until you
don’t hear them anymore. maybe
you never heard them, even though you
were right there the whole time.

the nuns were a fairly literal bunch.
when jesus fed the multitudes with
bread and fish from just five loaves
and two fish. that’s just exactly what he did.
a holy concession stand he was,
he never ran out of food
before the last pitch with the runners running.

but now when I read of that vast crowd
on the darkening shores of the Sea of Galilee,
I see jesus looking out over that dusty,
hungry and tired multitude with a gleam in his eye.
I hear him snicker when his disciples
say “send the crowds away we don’t have enough to feed everyone.”

he blesses the bread with his rough hands.
he touches the eyes of the fish and knows the net that caught it.
the disciples gave them to the crowds.
I suppose he sits quietly and watches;
we don’t know if he ate, do we?

but in all the multitude there was not
one person called out by jesus. he did not
tell his disciples “this one, but not her. ”

there must have been widows listening,
a leper or two. a tax collector.
a fool. an atheist.
but no one was turned away.
not even those clever enough to have brought a picnic.
you got bread whether you wanted it or not.
every seeker was found.
every enemy partook.
jesus fed everyone.

no one was turned away.