A reflection on my 23rd year of life and the everyday miujiza midogo (small miracles).
This week’s gospels have recounted events of Jesus’ life which he clearly takes as activities kama kawaida (as usual) and his disciples take as alarming, confusing and mystifying miracles.
On Sunday, Jesus casually turned five loaves and two fish into food for five thousand and then some.
On Monday, he walked across water to get to his friends in their boat.
On Wednesday, his transfigured-self chatted with Moses and Elijah on top of a mountain.
And the disciples’ reactions to these miracles are just so . . . human.
Sunday: ‘It’s not possible, send them away to buy food.’
Monday: ‘It’s a ghost!’
Wednesday: ‘Let’s stay up here and build each of you a temple!’
They didn’t know how to react. Of course they didn’t. We probably wouldn’t either.
And sometimes we don’t know how to react to the everyday miracles which can go unnoticed. Even the most devoted and earnest of Jesus’ disciples questioned his greatness. On Monday, as Jesus is assuring them that he is not, in fact, a ghost, Peter demands, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” Then as he is walking towards Christ, a strong wind comes along and he freaks out and begs for help. Well, you got what you wanted, Peter, what now?
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I don’t know about you, but it’s been a while since I’ve seen five thousand people fed in one place, never mind with one loaf of bread, and for all of my time spent by the seaside, I have yet to see anyone successfully get from point a to point b without becoming wet and/or swimming, and I definitely haven’t had any visions of Jesus, Moses and Elijah up on a mountain top- Dar es Salaam is pretty flat. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not experiencing God’s love everyday. The small, everyday miracles are the things to which we must pay great attention in order to experience the same human emotions of awe, fear and disbelief like the disciples.
I recently turned 24. A good age, I think. Better than 23. 23 doesn’t really seem like an important number or age. It’s not impressive or interesting or evenly divisible by 2. But my 23rd year of life is significant in that it has been my only full year of life spent outside of the U.S., away from home. 23 is significant because of all of the everyday miujiza midogo which I have experienced and witnessed. And much like the disciples, I frequently did not know how to react and probably didn’t always recognize God’s presence in those moments.
There were times when I felt like saying, “It’s not possible, send them away to buy food.” And then, we fed a few more guests than we had initially planned for. Or, ‘There just isn’t enough . . . food/resources/clothes/money/whatever.’ And then the community came together and there was more than enough.
There were times when I was afraid and confused and felt like I was looking at a ghost in place of a home and a family I used to know and understand. There were times when I demanded Christ, or God, or the Holy Spirit, or Someone to prove to me that I could do more and then in my frustration and fear, stumbled and again called for help.
There were also times that seemed so perfect or miraculous that I wanted to stay there and build a temple and not return to the everyday. There were people and places and moments that I was attached to, that I loved too much to let go. But when I did, I was able to find a new miracle in a new person, place, or moment. And I discovered the beauty of detachment as I was liberated to find joy and community in unexpected people, places and moments.
In this 24th year of life, which will be spent navigating significant transitions and exploring old relationships and places from a new perspective, I pray that my eyes will be open to the miujiza midogo of everyday life. I pray that I will be open to loving the present moment, the person next to me and the place I occupy. I pray this prayer for myself and for each of you.
(Gospels referenced: Mtt. 14:13-21, Mtt. 14: 22-32, Mtt. 17:1-8)
