“Gather the fragments left over, so that nothing will be wasted.”
– Jesus, after feeding the multitude

This little morsel was part of the reading at Mass a couple of weeks ago and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. As a post-Evangelical, ex-fundamentalist, semi-Agnostic, mystic, Buddhist Catholic universalist (or something along those lines), I go to church for exquisite moments such as this, when a drop of water lands on some inaccessible, sun-scorched spot in a desert place of my heart and I feel the sweet hand of grace soothing my soul.

Taking this in is more than appreciating Jesus’ frugality, and for me, it goes beyond the symbolism of gathering the 12 tribes of Israel (12 baskets of left-over barley loaves were collected). In the story, these fragments were gathered, collected, brought forward, and acknowledged. What struck me, in a poetic kind of way, was that the broken bits of our lives truly matter. What a soulful person Jesus was! I suddenly felt again like a whole/hale/holy person, somehow complete in my brokenness that is so valuable we should not only not let it go to waste, but it should be carefully gathered and used.

In my subsequent feasting on this passage, I have become more conscious of how I often want to forget or bury the fragmented places and of my consumerist urge to “shop” for brand new parts free of defects — new relationships to replace the old broken ones, new job to forget my past failures, new diversions (books, tv, hobbies, activities, etc.) to keep from living in the present with my broken dreams. I am also conscious of the ways since then that I have allowed myself to be more vulnerable, sensitive and needy than usual, valuing the not-so-new, not-so-perfect me just a little bit more.

The lesson I take here is to do this for myself… collect in my gathering basket, bring forward, and acknowledge the losses, hurts, and brokenness. Let them mingle together in an offering that is somehow synergistic and synonymous with my strength, brilliance and love. I guess I experience a small miracle of my own, where these broken bits become plentiful and healthful food, with an abundance left over. May I never forget the dignity of my wounds and always remember the beauty of such a graceful universe!