Twelve Baskets

And all ate and were filled. What was left over was gathered up, twelve baskets of broken pieces. – Luke 9:17 (NRSVUE) 

This is about the time in Lent when I realize I forgot what my Lenten discipline was supposed to be. And I’ll be brutally honest with you. Those half-held “fasts” are usually, if not often, a denial of something already bad for me or unnecessary to my well-being. 

Rarely a true fast. Or even a meal missed.  

Jesus and the disciples had been followed by the crowds to Bethsaida, where he offered a good word, with a side of healing for those who needed it. As the end of the day came, the twelve disciples began to worry about where a next meal was coming from. I wonder if their concerns were logistical or existential. Did they fear people would be angry that no provision had been made for dinner? Or were they worried about people’s actual physical needs? 

Jesus tells them to feed the crowd: “Have them sit down in groups of about fifty each.”  

Sure, Jesus, sure. One hundred groups of fifty each, no problem, look we have five loaves and two fish, are you kidding us? How could there ever be enough to go around? 

In the 21st century, in the US of A, we seem firmly convinced there is not and will never be enough to go around. I wonder why we keep giving up chocolate or wine—or whatever the popular denial of Lent 2026 may be—as if that will change things. We live with a deep-seated collective hunger that no food or drink or device or car or house will ever satisfy.  

What if we simply confessed that we feel like the baskets of broken pieces? 

Prayer
Healing Jesus, gather us up, we pray. Amen.

About the Author
Martha Spong is a UCC pastor, a clergy coach, and editor of The Words of Her Mouth: Psalms for the Struggle, from The Pilgrim Press.