"There is a little boy here."

Here is the Flemish painter, Ambrosius Francken's (1544-1618) great painting depicting this well known Gospel scene — The Multiplication of Loaves and Fishes. There's a lot going on in the painting. Ambrosius has placed Jesus in the center — open-handed (a gesture of non-violence). He has a pleasant soft-smile and wears a beautiful, rose-colored outer mantle. And while eleven apostles are talking among themselves, we see this most important moment, Andrew, making an essential introduction: "There is a little boy here...." We see the boy with his five barley loaves and the two fish on a plate. It appears that the boy has unwrapped the bread for Jesus.

After this Jesus went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, which is the Sea of Tiberias. And a multitude followed him, because they saw the signs which he did on those who were diseased. Jesus went up into the hills, and there sat down with his disciples. Now the Passover, the feast of the Jews, was at hand. Lifting up his eyes, then, and seeing that a multitude was coming to him, Jesus said, to Phillip, "How are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?" This he said to test him, for he himself knew what he would do. Philip answered him, "Two hundred denarii would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little." One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter's brother, said to him, "There is a little boy here who has five  barley loaves and two fish; but what are they among so many? Jesus said, "Make the people sit down." John 6:1-10

I can well imagine Jesus saying to the boy, "What's your name? Thank you for sharing all you have." We know nothing about the little boy, but we can imagine that he told his mother he was going to hear Jesus, and so she sent him off with something to eat. He was in the right place at the right time, and Andrew had the clarity of mind to make the introduction. And so, a great thing happened.

I saw a bumper sticker the other day which read, The most radical thing we can do is introduce people to one another.  The word radical comes from the Latin radix = root. But an ugly darkness has overcome us these past few years. We are living in suspicion and fear of others. We're quick to assess and judge others. A great bitterness, fueled by conspiracy theories, has spread among us. There are even scenarios that the days following Election Day will be traumatic and violent. Some have called what's going on with us a "cold civil war," ready to burst into flame. People from other countries worry about us, feel embarrassed for us, let down by us. We are not a very United States these days. Our enemies are glad that we are unsettled and at each other. We need to re-discover the good and fundamental work of introducing people to one another. And not just for the sake of winning votes for our candidate. Sad that it's all been reduced to that.

I had a pastor who taught me the necessity of making introductions — an easy way for a pastor to build and enhance community. Sad to say, but Catholics don't get high marks in this regard. I know a young man who when he went away for his first year of college also started attending daily mass in the nearby cathedral. After one year he stopped and said to me, "I went to the noon Mass everyday, and after a year not one person had come near me to say hello or to introduce themselves." I once suggested from the pulpit that we periodically change the pew we sit in week after week, year after year, sometimes for a lifetime, as it would give us a chance to meet new people. You would have thought I had denied the Eucharistic Presence the rejection of the idea was so visceral. Discouraging, really.

A great wonder happened because Andrew made an introduction. Divinity broke in through a human introduction. Want to be a radical — deeply rooted in the gospel? This week, why don't we do something about making introductions — and not just in church. Time is short — let's get past all the excuses.