Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John spend the evening in their booth, swapping notes and arguing about what should or shouldn’t be in their books. A bit later, Mary stops by to say hello and check on their progress.
During a pause in the conversation, Luke asks a question. “So, Matt, you say that after your genealogy, you’re going to tell about wise men from the east who visit Jesus after his birth. In my research, though, I can’t find any evidence of them. Are you just making that up to emphasize your Jesus-is-a-King theme?”
“Am I just what?” Matthew explodes. “Just because I’m a tax collector doesn’t mean I don’t know my facts. Everyone agrees something remarkable happened in the sky that night, right? Everyone agrees that it guided people to a stable in Bethlehem, right? Everyone agrees Herod was tipped off about the birth of a new king, right? Have you even gone to Bethlehem yet?”
“Okay, okay, I withdraw my question,” says Luke, holding up his hands. “But let me ask something else. The whole country has heard about when Jesus miraculously fed people out in the countryside. It was thousands, right?”
“Four thousand,” says Matthew.
“Five thousand,” says John at the same time.
“Ha, I’ll have to dig into that data,” laughs Luke. “But actually I’m more curious about the leftovers and some of the other details. From what I’ve heard, Jesus fed a bunch of men, and then his disciples collected the leftovers in baskets, right?
John fiddles with his cocktail glass. “Well … not exactly,” he hedges.
“I mean, that’s basically right,” waffles Matthew, “apart from some minor details no one will really care about.”
“Minor as in … ?” queries Luke.
“Minor as in literal minors,” laughs Mary. “What they aren’t saying, Luke, is that Jesus fed children too, and plenty of ‘em. Plus their mothers and grandmothers. Leave it to the men to leave out those details.”
“Hold on, that would at least triple the number of people Jesus fed, if not quadruple!” Luke exclaims. “Why were we talking about the difference between four and five thousand when it was really enough people to fill up half the Colosseum in Rome?”
“Good question,” says Mary, looking significantly at Matthew and John. “And did they mention who helped the disciples organize everyone and clean up afterward? Not that I think that would make it into the books.”
Pops arrives with a final round of drinks. “You’ll have to choose how to write your versions,” Pops says, “but for me the craziest part wasn’t the numbers, but the ridiculous generosity. I remember running into Andrew, who told me Jesus had miraculously fed, and I’m quoting, ‘a gazillion’ people. I know not to trust fishermen for the real size of things, but everyone was blown away by the lavishness.”
“Peter told me the same thing,” agrees Mark. “Rich, poor, young, old—Jesus just joyfully multiplied a single meal into a feast for everyone.”
Mary stands to leave. “You boys might disagree on exactly what’s important in that story,” she says, “but it belongs in all of your books. It was like a giant announcement to the world about who Jesus was. Everyone there will tell the story for the rest of their lives.”
“Speaking of,” chimes in Pops, “have I ever told you about the guy who showed up here in Jerusalem and tried to sell me a few baskets of so-called Jesus bread? Said if I bought them, I could double the price of my turkey sandwiches!”
“Sadly, I bet some sucker did buy that guy’s supposed miracle bread,” says John.
“You’re exactly right,” Pops agrees. “And I happen to know who: it was one of those shady pigeon traders in the temple. I bet he was planning to charge poor worshippers an arm and a leg for it. Joke was on him, though … I heard his pigeons ate it before he could resell it!”
As everyone laughs, Pops and Mary leave the boys to continue their work.
Until tomorrow, when the boys realize something important.
Image created by ChatGPT.