When I was growing up, my mother was a food service director and dietician at a big hospital outside Washington DC. I remember that one of the cookbooks she had was called “Food for 50” – it contained all these recipes for things like lasagna and tuna casseroles, with massive amounts of ingredients, for feeding large numbers of people.

I can only imagine what she would have done if she’d had to feed 5,000.

I don’t think she had a big enough casserole dish.

To put it in perspective…our church seats about 1,000. So we’re talking about more than five times the number of people in this church when it’s filled. Five of these churches, packed.

That’s a lotta loaves and fishes. Not to mention a lotta lasagna.

This miracle we hear in the gospel today is one of the more unusual and important in scripture. For one thing, it’s the only one that appears in all four gospels. In fact, in Matthew’s gospel, the one we heard today, it appears TWICE – retold just a few chapters later with slightly different details.

But it’s significant for other reasons, too.

It is, first of all, a beautiful foreshadowing of the Last Supper – showing us what the Eucharist will be. The very gestures that Jesus uses are exactly the same that he will use on Holy Thursday – blessing, breaking and sharing the bread. This event may be the greatest preview of a coming attraction ever created.

But there is something else — one more point that also makes this miracle more meaningful.

It helps to explain why this astonishing event is told again and again and again and again…why all four evangelists thought it was so important, each one included it in his gospel.

The reason is very simple.

This is a miracle about us.

In this incredible moment, you catch a glimmer of what will be.

This is the Church.

You see the faithful gathered before God in wonder – and in hunger.

You see God’s heart moved out of love and compassion.

And you see him feed their hunger. He answers their yearning. He gives them what they need. And he doesn’t do it alone. The disciples help. They distribute what they find to all those they see.

And all those people eat until they are satisfied. Five thousand and more.

From just a few scraps of bread and fish, leftovers, there is enough to feed a multitude.

And what is perhaps most miraculous: the multitude is still being fed.

Because we are that multitude. Two thousand years later, we continue to gather together, in hunger, and in yearning. And we continue to receive bread that is blessed, broken and shared – the bread that is Christ himself. He hasn’t forgotten us. He cannot neglect us. He continues to see that we are fed.

Yes: this is a miracle about us.

In this beautiful event, we see community. We see faith. We see prayer. A blessing. Generosity. Service.

And when it is ending, we see gratitude and thanksgiving.

This is Christ’s vision – God’s vision – for the Church that was about to be born. And it’s not over yet.

What started on that hill in Galilee goes on today, in Brooklyn, and Buenos Aires and Berlin. It goes on in soup kitchens, and homeless shelters, and food pantries. It goes on wherever a St. Vincent de Paul truck pulls up and collects clothing or food for those who have nothing.

It goes on wherever those hungry for God find their hunger satisfied in the sacraments. Wherever someone can step into a church, light a candle, say a rosary, or receive some moment of grace. It is going on. The miracle of the multitude continues.

Every time mass is celebrated…or a baby is baptized…or a couple is married, the miracle goes on. The distribution continues. The legacy of those leftovers endures.

It happens every time a confession is heard, or a sick parishioner is anointed. It lives on in countless acts of mercy, and generosity, and love – passed on, disciple to disciple to disciple, until all who hunger are satisfied, all who are empty are full, all who seek God find Him.

The great wonder, of course, and the challenge, is that the miracle is infinite. There is always more work to do.

Which is one reason why this novena to St. John Vianney that we are about to conclude has been so vitally important. God’s work calls out to us. And He is calling out to us, seeking more hands to pass on the fish and the bread, more hearts to carry his love into the world.

My friends, as we prepare to receive the Eucharist today, let’s remember all those who are discerning a vocation. Pray for open minds, and open hearts. As I put it last weekend, pray for “Yes.” With that “yes,” they will help pass on what has been passed on to us — from the hands of Christ, to his disciples, to the endless multitude around the world.

And the miracle will continue.