In those days, there being again a great crowd, and they having nothing that they could eat, having called his disciples to [him], he says to them,
A large crowd has stayed with Jesus in a remote place until their food has run out. Mark has already reported one feeding of a crowd; here he reports a second, and this time Jesus Himself raises the need.
Some readers think Mark is retelling the feeding of the five thousand. One writer explains why the same kind of miracle happens twice, and lists the details that keep the two apart.
That the miracle happened twice means — to use Joseph's explanation of Pharaoh's two dreams — that the thing is established by God, whatever man's unbelief. What then is the real difference? There were five loaves and two fishes in the first, seven loaves and a few fishes in the last. One feeding fed five thousand, the other four thousand. The surplus then filled twelve baskets, now seven. The baskets themselves had a different name in each case: a hand-basket in the first, a large basket in the second. In the second the crowd had stayed three days, while in the first we do not hear of more than one day.
In this verse Jesus calls the disciples to Him; they do not come to Him with the problem. That shapes the whole account.
This second feeding of the crowd has a more clearly moral meaning. It sets out the resources that are in the Lord to meet the needs of His people. It also sets out the compassion of His heart, which feels for those whose needs He meets. The disciples do not come to the Lord, as in the former miracle, calling His attention to the people's needs. Here everything proceeds from the Lord. He sees the need. He calls the disciples to Himself. He brings before them His compassion. He gives the people rest, making them sit down. He takes what is at hand, gives thanks for it, and hands it out to the people through the disciples. So He satisfies their need.
His own words show what He had been noting: how long they had stayed, and how far they still had to walk home.
The heart of Christ enters the scene of human need in a very different way from the way the disciples' heart had entered it. Earlier they had said, send the crowd away. He says instead that He has compassion on them, because they have been with Him three days and have nothing to eat. If He sends them away, He says, they will faint on the road, for some of them have come from far. He shows how closely He had come to know their sorrow. He took notice of the time they had been with Him, of the journey they had to take, and of the distance they had come.
They had run out of supplies because they would not leave His teaching. One writer sets that hunger against the spiritual starvation of the day.
These sheep of Israel, and also other sheep not of that fold, were "consumed with hunger in the land." The Pharisees and scribes were shepherds who worked only for pay. Their days were like the days the prophet Amos wrote of: "Behold, the days are coming, declares the Lord GOD, when I will send a famine on the land — not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the LORD... they shall run to and fro, to seek the word of the LORD, but they shall not find it" (Amos 8:11-12). Is it any wonder that the crowds listened with untiring eagerness to the words of life?
One writer applies the same words to religious people today.
All around us are crowds of people who claim the Christian name. They are very busy in religious activities, but they have nothing to eat. They have sacraments and outward services, magazines and religious books, and still may have nothing to eat. They are unconverted. They are in their sins, guilty before God, hurrying on to judgment. No one has set a real gospel before them, one suited to lost, guilty sinners.
The counts of loaves, people and baskets are different this time. One writer reads them as signs.
In Scripture, numbers stand for spiritual truths. Seven, which comes twice in this account, is the number of perfection. Four is the number of the world. The symbol teaches us this: when He opens His hand to heal the sorrows of men, there will be perfect blessing — and not just for Israel's tribes, but for the whole world.
- He sees. He notices the need before anyone reports it. Everything starts with Him: He sees, calls, seats the crowd, gives thanks and hands out the food.
- He feels. His compassion is not vague goodwill. He knew the three days, the empty stomachs, the long road home.
- He calls. He calls the disciples in before any bread is broken. They hand out a supply that is His alone.
- He fills. Four thousand fed, seven baskets left over. The numbers point past Israel to perfect blessing for the whole world.
- He still does. Crowds today can be busy with religion and still have nothing to eat. The compassion that fed that crowd has not changed.
I have compassion on the crowd, because they have stayed with me already three days and they have not anything they can eat,
Three days into a stretch of teaching and healing, the crowd around Jesus has run out of food. No one has said a word about it. He raises the subject Himself, and the reason He gives is the state of His own heart.
In the earlier feeding miracle, the disciples came to Jesus about the crowd. Here everything starts with Him, and one writer traces the steps.
This second miracle of feeding the multitude has a more distinctly moral significance. It sets out the resources that are in the Lord to meet the needs of His people. It also sets out the compassion of His heart, which feels for those whose needs He meets. The disciples do not come to the Lord, as in the former miracle, calling His attention to the people's needs. Here everything proceeds from the Lord. He sees the need. He calls the disciples to Himself. He brings His compassion before them. He sets the people at rest, making them sit down. He takes what is at hand, gives thanks for it, and gives it out to the people through the disciples. So He satisfies their need.
His words carry particulars: how long they had stayed, what they had eaten, how far they still had to walk. His pity had been tracking each one.
With them it was, "Send the crowd away." With Him it was, "I have compassion on the crowd." He shows how closely He had made Himself acquainted with their sorrow. He took notice of the time they had been with Him, of the journey they had to take, and of the distance they had come.
The people had come for teaching and healing, and He had fed their souls. What He names in this verse is plainer.
The Lord Jesus rejoiced to serve them with the wonders of divine mercy and truth. But He also noticed how faint their bodies were. They had carried their many sick to the Great Physician. They had felt excited joy at the recoveries. They had strained to follow long discourses. All of this took its toll on the bodies of that great crowd. The Lord saw this weakness and pitied it. He who healed their diseases and forgave their sins also knew how they were made, and remembered that they were dust.
Jesus could have produced bread at once. Instead He calls the disciples close and tells them what He feels.
Here, then, we have the true secret of preparation for our high and holy mission. Our blessed Lord first gathers His disciples around Himself. He seeks to fill their hearts with His own feelings and thoughts before He fills their hands with the loaves and fishes. It is as if He had said, "I have compassion, and I want you to have it too. I want you to enter into all My thoughts and feelings, to think as I do and feel as I do. I want you to look at this hungry crowd with My eyes, so that you may be in a moral condition to be My channels."
Nothing here rests on the crowd's faith or understanding.
Here it is simply His provision for the poor who go after Him. They might have little perception of His glory, yet He cares for them. In this case it is entirely a question of Christ's goodness. He watched over them and provided for them — more than enough, though nothing would be lost. It was their wretchedness that appealed to His heart. The Lord took the whole thing in hand Himself, though He gave the disciples the privilege of being channels of His bounty.
One writer brings the scene into the present.
Let us remember that He is the same today. He knows our needs, and has the heart to love and the hand to nourish and cherish His people. Too often, like the disciples, we feel the need and the complete inadequacy of the little we have to meet it. But suppose we do as the Lord did. We bring our little into touch with heaven and give thanks for it. Will we not find that God can make it go a long way, meeting our need and even leaving something over?
- He sees. Nobody reports the hunger to Him. Everything in this miracle starts with the Lord, who sees the need before anyone names it.
- He counts. His compassion had tracked the days they stayed, the food they lacked, and the distance some still had to travel home.
- He pities the body. The One who healed their diseases and forgave their sins also remembered they were dust, and He pitied their tired bodies.
- He shares the feeling. He fills the disciples' hearts with His own compassion before He fills their hands with loaves. That order holds for anyone who serves Him.
- He supplies. What moved Him was their wretchedness, not their insight. He is the same today, and He can make our little go a long way when we bring it to Him with thanks.
and if I should dismiss them to their home fasting, they will faint on the way; for some of them are come from far.
The crowd has been with Jesus three days with nothing to eat. It is the Lord Himself, not the disciples, who raises the problem: some of them face a long road home, and He will not start them on it empty.
No one reported the crowd's condition to Jesus. He worked out for Himself what an empty stomach and a long walk would do to each person there.
But God was there. It was God, speaking through human lips, who said, "I have compassion on the crowd." It was God who took account of every circumstance of each person in that huge crowd of hungry, fainting people. He knew the exact distance each one had travelled, and the length of time each one had been fasting. He also took account of what would surely happen to them if He sent them away with nothing to eat.
The word behind "faint" is rare in the New Testament. It describes strength that gives out on the road.
We find this word, ek-luo, five times in the New Testament, and each time translated 'faint.' In Matthew 15:32 and Mark 8:3, the Lord Himself uses this word of the people who had been with Him three days and had nothing to eat. He would not send them home without food, in case they fainted on the way, for some of them came from far.
The same word describes believers whose inner strength gives out. Older translations read "faint" in both places below:
We find the word twice more in Hebrews 12, in verses 3 and 5. The first says, "Consider Him… so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted." The second says, "Have you forgotten the exhortation…, My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord, nor be weary when reproved by Him." In each case the word translated 'faint' is ek-luo.
The words "come from far away" say something about who was in this crowd. They were not devout pilgrims on their way to Jerusalem.
This time the crowd was not made up mainly of pilgrims travelling to Jerusalem to keep the Passover (John 6:4-5). They were the poor people from the Gentile borders of Northern Galilee. Even so, the Lord showed them the same surpassing grace He had shown before to those eager and devout enough to travel up to Jerusalem for the feast. So His mercy here leaps over the narrow boundaries of the law.
The same writer links "come from far away" back to Isaiah's picture of the Servant. He also names Decapolis, the Gentile region where this crowd gathered.
According to Isaiah's prophecy, the Great Servant would not only raise up the tribes of Jacob and bring back the preserved of Israel. He would also be a light to the Gentiles. The One whom man despised and the nation hated would make the people "feed along the ways; on all bare heights shall be their pastures." They would never hunger or thirst again. And in that restored crowd the prophet saw in vision, as the Lord saw in Decapolis, those who had come from far (Isaiah 49).
Jesus had fed a large crowd once before. The differences between the two occasions carry the lesson.
They had come to Him, and they had stayed with Him. He would not send them away hungry and faint. Nobody who has ever come to Him has found Him uncaring, or unable to meet their need in full. The first time, the disciples told Him about the shortage. This time, He told them. Then, the Lord was teaching the disciples what their own service would be. Here, He was teaching them and all of us that nobody who follows Him would lack what was needed.
This second feeding shows more than power to supply.
This second miracle of feeding the crowd has a clearer moral meaning. It sets out the resources in the Lord that meet the needs of His people. It also sets out the compassion of His heart, which feels for those whose needs He meets… He sees the need. He calls the disciples to Himself. He brings before them His compassion. He sets the people at rest, making them sit down.
Before He gives anything to the crowd, He works on His disciples.
Our blessed Lord first gathers His disciples around Himself. He seeks to fill their hearts with His own feelings and thoughts before He fills their hands with the loaves and fishes. It is as if He had said, "I have compassion, and I want you to have it also. I want you to enter into all My thoughts and feelings, to think as I do, and feel as I do. I want you to look with My eyes at this hungry multitude."
- He sees. No one told Him the crowd was hungry. He knew the miles each person had walked and the hours each had gone without food.
- He says. He speaks His compassion to the disciples first. He fills their hearts before He fills their hands.
- He reaches far. The words "come from far away" mark out a crowd from the Gentile borders. His mercy steps over the law's boundaries to reach them.
- He supplies. Nobody who came to Him found Him uncaring or unable. Nobody who follows Him goes without.
- He sends. He will not start anyone on the road home fainting. Hebrews uses the same word for hearts that give out under discipline.
And his disciples answered him, Whence shall one be able to satisfy these with bread here in a desert place?
The Lord has just shown His pity for a crowd of thousands with nothing to eat. His disciples answer with a question: where could bread come from in a place as empty as this? Only weeks earlier they had watched Him feed a crowd just like it.
Their question sounds almost like a correction, as if the Lord had forgotten where they were. One writer turns that around.
The disciples had forgotten the lesson taught them not long before. Slow to learn! How like us, we may say. Had the Lord, they seemed to say, forgotten where they were? It was the disciples who were forgetful, not the Master. They forgot who the Lord was — the Messiah of Israel.
Their question weighs the crowd against what a man can do. It leaves out the One standing with them.
Did they not know, or had they forgotten, that they were standing right in front of the Creator and Sustainer of the universe? True, He was there in the lowly form of Jesus of Nazareth. The veil of His humanity hid His divine glory from human eyes. But they should have known better who and what He was. They should have known how to draw on His glorious presence and His riches that no one can measure. If their hearts had grasped the glory of His Person at all, they could never have asked such a question. Long before, Moses had asked, "Where am I to get meat to give to all this people?" The poor unbelieving heart shuts God out. Did God ask Moses to provide the meat? Surely not. No mere man could do it. And no mere man could feed four thousand in a desert place.
Their own past already held the answer, three times over.
Foolish forgetfulness and unbelief! Where did food come from for the tribes of Israel in the deserts of Sinai? Where did it come from for a similar crowd only a few weeks earlier, and not many miles away? They themselves had done many mighty works in the name of the Lord (Mark 6:13). They must have known that God's power had worked in other situations. Yet they forgot that the same power could work here.
This was not the unbelief of enemies. It can sit inside real faith and still see nothing.
Here it is the Messiah yearning over His famished people. They were guilty; but He pitied their distressed state, and gave His disciples a fresh opportunity of drawing on Him by faith. He was there, and full of compassion; but unbelief, even in believers, is always blind.
The Lord meant to feed the crowd through them. Their question shows how little they valued that.
But notice how slow the disciples were in responding to the desire of the heart of Christ concerning them. It was His gracious purpose to use them as His channels and to give them this immense privilege. But they, like us, were little able to appreciate it. The reason was simple: they failed to enter into His thoughts and to grasp the glory of His Person.
He does not argue with them. He asks what they have, and starts there.
The Lord then called on the disciples to gather their resources. He said to them, "How many loaves do you have?" He was about to act out His own saying before their eyes: "To the one who has, more will be given." They answer, Seven. And these loaves the Lord took as the starting point of the food supply for the people. He did not call down bread out of heaven, as He had done long ago. He used what came out of the earth (Job 28:5). To this fruit of human work, already multiplied from the bare grain, He gave a further increase.
The same pattern holds for us.
Too often, like the disciples, we feel the need and the complete inadequacy of the little we have to meet it. But suppose we do as the Lord did. We bring our little into touch with heaven and give thanks for it. Will we not find that God can make it go a long way — meeting our need, and even leaving something over?
- Forgot. They had watched Him feed a crowd like this only weeks before. Now they ask where bread could come from.
- Forgot Whom. They lost sight of the Person standing there — the Creator and Sustainer, in the lowly form of Jesus of Nazareth.
- Blind. Unbelief in a believer is still blind; He was present and full of compassion, and they saw only a desert.
- Offered. He gave them a fresh chance to draw on Him by faith. He meant to use them as His channels — a privilege they nearly missed.
- Enough. He asks what they have. Seven loaves become His starting point. The little brought to Him goes a long way, with something left over.
And he asked them, How many loaves have ye? And they said, Seven.
Jesus knew what the disciples were carrying. Yet some have read His question as proof that He did not know:
We are told that when our Lord "asked for information, it was because He wanted it" (Matt. 15:34, John 11:34), implying that He was ignorant of what He asked about. The first reference is to the feeding of the four thousand, when the Master said to His disciples, "How many loaves do you have?" John 6:5-6 destroys that unworthy inference. There the Lord asked Philip on a similar occasion, "Where are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?" He said this to test him, for He Himself knew what He would do... A question may serve the one who is asked.
In the earlier feeding, the disciples brought the need to Jesus. Here He raises it Himself.
This second miracle of feeding the multitude has a more distinctly moral significance. It shows the resources in the Lord that meet the needs of His people. It also shows the compassion of His heart, which feels for those whose needs He meets. The disciples do not come to the Lord, as in the former miracle, calling His attention to the people's needs. Here everything proceeds from the Lord. He sees the need; He calls the disciples to Himself; He brings before them His compassion; He sets the people at rest, making them sit down. He takes what is at hand, gives thanks for it, and distributes it to the people through the disciples. So He satisfies their need.
They answered "seven" only after objecting that no one could feed such a crowd in a desert. They had watched Him feed five thousand not long before.
How little sympathy the disciples had with Jesus then. How little now. They say, "How can one feed these people with bread here in this desolate place?" Did they not forget the Lord? He who fed millions daily for forty years in the wilderness was among them — the Jehovah of the days of Moses. They forgot the infinite resources they had in Him. And do we remember the compassion and power of Him who says, "I am with you always, to the end of the age"?
Seven opens the account and closes it: seven loaves at the start, seven baskets of leftovers at the end. Commentators read that repetition as deliberate.
The "seven" at the beginning and at the end of this case seems to refer not to the question of man's instrumentality — "twelve" is the regular symbol for that in Scripture. It points simply to the fulness of provision: scanty in man's eyes, but complete in His eye of grace and power, and reaching beyond the mere meeting of their present need. Not only did He satisfy them, but there is completeness stamped on the whole transaction, to the praise of His goodness and power.
Before God supplies, He asks a person to bring out the little already in hand.
"What have you in the house?" said the prophet to the woman. As Jesus later said to His disciples, "How many loaves do you have?" — or as He had said to Moses at the hill, "What is that in your hand?" Whatever we have should be put to use. It may be quite unequal to the necessity, but whatever it is, it should be occupied. It may be only a shepherd's staff, and Israel has to be redeemed. It may be only a jar of oil, and the creditor, who has the right to sell children and all, has to be paid. It may be only five barley loaves, and five thousand hungry people have to be fed. Still, let what there is be used and brought out.
Seven loaves were far too little for that crowd. We often feel the same gap:
Let us remember that He is the same today. He knows our needs, and has the heart to love and the hand to nourish and cherish His people (Eph. 5:23, 25, 29). Too often, like the disciples, we feel the need and the complete inadequacy of the little we have to meet it. But suppose that, like the Lord, we bring our little into touch with heaven and give thanks for it. Should we not find that God can make it go a long way — not only meeting our need, but even leaving something in hand?
- Compassion starts it. The disciples raise nothing; He sees the need, calls them, and takes the whole thing in hand Himself.
- The question tests. He asks what they have, but not because He lacks the answer — John 6:6 says He knew what He would do.
- Bring the little. "What do you have?" is His standard question — a staff, a jar of oil, or seven loaves. He starts with what is already in your hand.
- Seven means fulness. Seven loaves in, seven baskets out. That marks a full supply, not man's part in the work — twelve is the number for that.
- The supply overflows. He does not just cover the need. The leftovers show His care goes beyond it, and He is the same today.
And he commanded the crowd to sit down on the ground. And having taken the seven loaves, he gave thanks, and broke [them] and gave [them] to his disciples, that they might set [them] before [them]; and they set [them] before the crowd.
This is the second time Jesus feeds a crowd in a desert place, and this time everything starts with Him. The verse turns on three small acts: He gave thanks, He broke the bread, and He passed it on for others to serve.
The Lord arranges the whole scene. He seats the people. He puts the food into the hands of those who pass it round.
This second miracle of feeding the crowd has a more clearly moral meaning. It shows the resources in the Lord that meet the needs of His people. It also shows the compassion of His heart, which feels for those whose needs He meets. The disciples do not come to the Lord, as in the former miracle, calling His attention to the people's needs. Here everything proceeds from the Lord. He sees the need. He calls the disciples to Himself. He sets His compassion before them. He puts the people at rest, making them sit down. He takes what is at hand and gives thanks for it. He hands it out to the people through the disciples, and so satisfies their need.
One added word has confused what blessing at a meal means.
To bless is to bless God, or to give thanks to Him. (See Mark 8:6; Luke 22:17-19; John 6:11.) Adding the word "it" after "bless" has hidden this meaning. It has also given occasion for the priestly practice of consecrating the bread and the cup before they are handed out.
The same thanksgiving also sets a pattern for the ordinary table.
While the crowd's eyes waited on the Lord, they could not help noticing that He looked up to heaven as He gave thanks. Had He not taught His disciples to pray to their Father in heaven? He taught them to ask for spiritual things, and also to say, "Give us this day our daily bread." Now He who had taught them to pray for daily food teaches by example to give thanks for it.
He breaks the bread. The disciples carry it.
The Lord acted as Host that day to the great gathering. He had been the guest of Simon the Pharisee, of Simon the leper, and of many others — sometimes welcome, sometimes, sadly, unwelcome. He it was who broke the bread. The disciples were stewards of His bounty. They handed out the broken pieces from His hand to the crowd, and the crowd ate and were satisfied.
The number seven opens and closes this account. One writer reads it as a mark of fulness, not of service.
The "seven" at the beginning and the end of this account seems to point, not to the question of man being used as God's instrument (for which "twelve" is the regular symbol in Scripture), but simply to the fulness of the provision. It was scanty in man's eyes, but complete in His eye of grace and power, and it went beyond the mere meeting of their present need. Not only did He satisfy them; completeness is stamped on the whole event, to the praise of His goodness and power. They took up seven baskets of the pieces left over.
Commentators differ on how much wider meaning this feeding carries. Some read it as pure grace to a needy company, and not as a picture of God's dealings through the ages.
There is a notable difference here. It is not a picture of the order of the Lord's ways through the ages. We see the Lord caring for a certain remnant (a small group left) of His people out of His own pure grace... Whether taken as an earthly or a heavenly remnant, the scene shows the certainty of the Lord's tender care for His people now that He has been rejected. There is no leaving them here; He is with His disciples all through.
Others link both feedings to the coming kingdom.
The two miracles form a double witness to the blessing coming for the chosen nation under the direct rule of their Messiah. The great year of jubilee (in that year Israel did not sow or reap, yet the people ate their fill) was a picture of that time of relief from weary toil.
The same pattern can shape our own lives.
Too often, like the disciples, we feel the need, and we feel how far our little falls short of meeting it. But if we bring our little into touch with heaven and give thanks for it, as the Lord did, would we not find that God can make it go a long way — meeting our need, and even leaving something in hand?
- He begins. No one asks Him; He sees the hunger, calls the disciples, seats the crowd, and takes the loaves.
- He gives thanks. Blessing means blessing God, the giver — not the bread. His example teaches what He had taught in words about daily bread.
- He breaks. The Host Himself divides the supply. The disciples are stewards, passing on what came from His hand.
- He gives it out. Seven loaves at the start and seven baskets left over at the end speak of fulness — a supply scanty to us, complete to Him.
- He still does it. Bring the little you have into touch with heaven and give thanks. God can stretch it to meet the need and leave something over.
And they had a few small fishes, and having blessed them, he desired these also to be set before [them].
At the feeding of the four thousand, Mark adds a small detail after the loaves: a few small fish, which the Lord blessed and shared out just as He did the bread. So what does the blessing mean, why does Mark name the fish, and what does the disciples' part in the meal teach?
The word points upward, not downward. One writer sets the Gospel accounts side by side. In this passage, blessing and giving thanks name the same act:
Anyone who knows Scripture on this point knows that "blessing" means simply giving thanks, not consecrating the bread. So in Luke 9:16 — the miracle of the loaves, not the Lord's Supper — He blessed them and broke them. In John 6:11, 23 and Mark 8:6-7 (also Mark 6:41), the two terms are joined... Blessing is blessing God, a giving of thanks.
Commentators differ in emphasis. Another writer traces the Greek word across the Gospels and gives the act a second side — it also sets the food apart for good use:
The Lord also "blessed." In John 6 we read that He gave thanks. Luke says He blessed the loaves and fish (Luke 9:16). Matthew and Mark say only that He blessed, without saying what. In Scripture, blessing and giving thanks go closely together... To bless (eulogeo) seems to join praise and thanks given to God with the setting apart of food for healthy use (1 Tim. 4:4-5).
The fish get their own blessing. One writer links this meal to another where the risen Lord served both, and then to a greater table still:
Besides the loaves, there were a few small fish. These the Lord also took and blessed, and the disciples passed them to the people. So He provided bread and fish for their meal, as after His resurrection He did for the seven apostles in Galilee (John 21:9)... He also said, "Blessed are those servants whom the master finds awake when he comes. Truly, I say to you, he will dress himself for service and have them recline at table, and he will come and serve them" (Luke 12:37).
In the earlier feeding, the disciples came to Him about the crowd. This time no one asks Him to act:
This second miracle of feeding the crowd has a more plainly moral meaning. It shows not only the resources in the Lord to meet the needs of His people, but also the compassion of His heart that feels for those whose needs He meets. The disciples do not come to the Lord, as in the former miracle, calling His attention to the people's needs. Here everything proceeds from the Lord. He sees the need. He calls the disciples to Himself. He brings His compassion before them. He puts the people at rest, making them sit down. He takes what is at hand, gives thanks for it, and distributes it to the people through the disciples. So He satisfies their need.
The fish, like the bread, reach the crowd through other hands. The supply is His; the carrying is theirs, and He counts that a privilege:
It was their wretchedness that appealed to His heart. The Lord took the whole thing in hand Himself, though He gave the disciples the privilege of being channels of His bounty.
The same pattern shapes all Christian service — we hand on only what we first received:
He blessed and broke the bread. He first puts the broken bread into the hands of the disciples, and after they received it they gave it to the people. This is the divine order of ministry. The little we hand over to Him, He blesses. We receive it first from Him, and what we receive from His hands we can pass on to others.
"A few small fish" is about what most of us have to offer. The lesson is not to despise the little, but to bring it to Him first:
Too often, like the disciples, we feel the need and the complete inadequacy of the little we have to meet it. But if, like the Lord, we bring our little into touch with heaven and give thanks for it, will we not find that God can make it go a long way — meeting our need, and even leaving something over?
One writer turns the fish into a question about what is in your hand today:
Have you a few small tracts that contain the true gospel of God? Will you look to Him to bless them? Can you in faith obey Him? He commands you to set them before those who have nothing to eat.
- He sees — He spots the need before anyone mentions it; the whole meal flows from His own compassion.
- He thanks — "blessed" means blessing God, giving thanks. Commentators differ only on whether it also sets the food apart.
- He includes — the fish are the extra beyond bread, a foretaste of the day when He Himself will serve those who wait for Him.
- He sends — the disciples are channels, not sources; we pass on only what we first received from His hands.
- He satisfies — bring your few small things to Him, give thanks, and He makes them go a long way.
And they ate and were satisfied. And they took up of fragments that remained seven baskets.
Thousands ate their fill that day in Galilee, and there was still food left over. Why does Mark count what was left, and why seven baskets?
The verse does not say the crowd got food; it says they ate until they had enough. One writer traces that fullness to the power that makes one seed yield a harvest.
The crowds in Galilee that day saw the richness that marks a purely divine act. The generous Power that makes the sower's grain yield a hundredfold multiplied the seven loaves and the fishes. Every one of the thousands there had enough, and even then there was plenty to spare.
Seven loaves went in and seven baskets came out. One writer reads that repeated seven as a signal, and sets it beside the twelve of the earlier feeding.
The "seven" at the start and at the end of this account seems to point not to man's part in the work — "twelve" is the usual symbol for that in Scripture — but simply to the fullness of the provision. It looked small in man's eyes, but it was complete in His eye of grace and power. And it went beyond merely meeting their present need. It is the Lord's perfect care and compassion for His people. He did more than satisfy them. The whole event carries the stamp of completeness, to the praise of His goodness and power.
The English word "baskets" hides a detail. The Greek word here is not the one used after the five thousand.
One of the Greek words used in the New Testament is spuris, "a hamper." It is used for the seven baskets of fragments remaining after the four thousand were fed... When the five thousand were fed there were twelve baskets of fragments, but it was then the kophinos, "a hand basket." The two perfect numbers seven and twelve show the inexhaustible supply the Lord furnishes when His purpose is to bless His own.
Plenty did not mean waste. The numbers in this account carry meaning too.
At the end of the meal they gathered up the fragments. With the absolutely perfect One, waste could not go together with wealth and generosity. Seven (repeated twice in this account) is the number of perfection; four is the world-number. So these symbols teach us that when He opens His hand to remedy the sorrows of men, there will be perfection of blessing. And this is not only for Israel's tribes, but for the whole world.
Commentators differ on what the seven baskets picture. One sees pure grace: the Lord caring for His own people, rejected though He is.
We see here the Lord taking care of a certain remnant of His people out of His own pure grace... He is the Messiah, of course; but it is the generous goodness of His heart that He is showing, in spite of His rejection... Meanwhile, He turns to us of the Gentiles in His grace; and what do we lack? Whether we take it as an earthly or a heavenly remnant, the scene shows the fact and the certainty of the Lord's tender care for His people now that men have rejected Him.
Another writer puts his reading as a question.
Do these seven baskets speak of the fullness of blessing remaining for the Gentile nations after Israel is satisfied? That seems to fit. The twelve baskets before this spoke of the grace still left for the twelve tribes of Israel after the church was blessed.
One writer applies the scene to our own small supply.
Too often, like the disciples, we feel the need and the complete inadequacy of the little we have to meet it. If, however, like the Lord, we bring our little into touch with heaven and give thanks for it, would we not find that God can make it go a long way? Would He not only meet our need, but even leave something in hand?
A full basket raises a question.
If this is your special and happy place, what will you do with your basket? Will you send nothing to those who have nothing to eat? Will you have no compassion on the multitude? It is a wonderful feast — always as much left as when we began. If Christ is enough for you, He is enough for every poor, guilty sinner on earth.
- Grace starts it. The whole scene flows from the generous goodness of His heart, shown even though He was rejected.
- Seven means fulness. Twelve stands for man's part in the work. Seven, at both ends of this account, stamps the whole thing complete.
- Hampers, not hand-baskets. The baskets here are bigger than the ones used after the five thousand — a display of supply that never runs out.
- Nothing wasted. With the perfect One, waste never keeps company with generosity. The fragments are gathered, and four — the world's number — hints how wide the blessing reaches.
- Baskets are for carrying. Bring your little to heaven with thanks, and you end with something in hand. What is in hand is meant for those who still have nothing to eat.
And they [that had eaten] were about four thousand; and he sent them away.
The verse closes the second feeding with a count and a dismissal. Commentators ask why this meal appears at all after a larger one, what the numbers mean, and why the crowd is sent away only now.
One writer traces every step of this meal back to the Lord, and finds there its difference from the earlier miracle.
This second miracle of feeding the multitude has a more distinctly moral significance. It shows the resources in the Lord that meet the needs of His people. It also shows the compassion of His heart, which feels for those whose needs He meets. The disciples do not come to the Lord, as in the former miracle, calling His attention to the people's needs. Here everything proceeds from the Lord. He sees the need. He calls the disciples to Himself. He puts His compassion before them. He gives the people rest, making them sit down. He takes what is at hand, gives thanks for it, and hands it out to the people through the disciples. So He satisfies their need.
One writer sets this meal against the Lord's own rejection, and beside a scene from the life of David, Israel's exiled king.
At this time the Lord was travelling in Galilee as an outcast. Herod, the king of that province, had recently beheaded John the Baptist and wanted to kill Him too, while Pharisees and scribes had come down from Jerusalem looking for grounds to arrest Him. Even so, He was still ready to show His rich stores of grace to the poor. David too fled in haste from Absalom, hungry, thirsty and weary in the wilderness at Mahanaim. There a man of Gilead and a man of Ammon, Gentile strangers from across the Jordan, welcomed him and his companions as honoured guests and spread a rich feast for the outcast king of Israel (2 Sam. 17:27-29). But in Decapolis, David's Son and Jehovah's Servant had no more than a handful of loaves and fish. With them He spread a full table in the wilderness for the hungry crowd that had gathered to Him on those edges of the favoured land.
One writer weighs the seven of this account against the twelve of the earlier feeding.
The "seven" at the start and the end of this case seems to point not to man's instrumentality, for which "twelve" is the regular symbol in Scripture, but simply to the fullness of provision. In man's eyes it was scanty. In His eye of grace and power it was complete, and it went beyond the mere meeting of their present need. It is the Lord's perfect care and compassion for His people.
Kelly ties the numbers to the Lord's care for His people. Another writer reads the same figures as reaching much wider.
Seven large baskets full remained, compared with twelve hand-baskets full after the earlier feast. Scripture numbers carry spiritual truths. Seven (repeated twice in this narrative) is the number of perfection; four is the world-number. So the symbol teaches us this: when He opens His hand to remedy the sorrows of men, there will be perfection of blessing. And it is not only for Israel's tribes, but for the whole world. This happy state of things, however, cannot come until His return from heaven.
The dismissal comes last in the account. One writer marks the order.
All were fed. All were satisfied, for the disciples took up seven baskets full of the broken food that was left. The Lord had fed four thousand men in the wilderness, besides women and children. Then, and not till then, He dismissed them.
One writer turns the scene toward readers who face needs larger than their means.
Let us remember that He is the same today. He knows our needs, and has the heart to love and the hand to nourish and cherish His people (Eph. 5:23, 25, 29). Too often, like the disciples, we feel the need and the complete inadequacy of the little we have to meet it. But suppose we do what the Lord did. We bring our little into touch with heaven and give thanks for it. Will we not find that God can make it go a long way, meeting our need and even leaving something over?
- He saw. The Lord saw the need before anyone raised it. The whole meal starts with Him, not with the disciples.
- He supplied. A hunted, outcast King with seven loaves spread a full table in the wilderness while men sought His life.
- He filled. The sevens mark fullness of provision, not man's part in it. The leftovers show the supply went beyond the need.
- He sent. He sent the crowd away only after all four thousand had eaten and been satisfied — then, and not till then.
- He still does. He is the same today. Bring the little you have into touch with heaven, give thanks, and God can make it go a long way.