The Miracles We Don’t See

Colleen Jurkiewicz Dorman • July 30, 2026
Two fresh fish beside a loaf of bread on a rustic stone surface

Reflection for August 2, 2026 – Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

In this Sunday’s Gospel, Jesus multiplies the loaves and fishes to feed thousands of people who have followed him after the death of John the Baptist. Find the readings here.


“Why aren’t there miracles anymore?”

 

I’ve heard people say this more than once. Usually, it is someone who is a believer in Christ but not a Catholic, because Catholics understand that miracles happen at every Mass, to say nothing of the other miracles the Church recognizes. But even some Catholics often find themselves wondering why it’s been so long since God gave us a good show. A good sun-dance in the sky. A good, flashy reason to believe.

 

I don’t know what it looked like when the loaves and the fishes were multiplied. I believe it happened, and I have envisioned it often, but I just can’t picture it. Did everyone blink, and there was a giant pile of food? Did they just keep finding more? Was it all the same kind of bread, or did Jesus mix it up?

 

I think the Gospel is deliberately vague on this to test the patience of pathologically nosy people like myself. It’s not important what it looked like. If those details mattered, they would be spelled out in Scripture.

 

How often we find ourselves unsatisfied with the answers God has for us.

 

I wonder if that’s what Christ was thinking when he savored those last few minutes of solitude on the boat, where he had gone to be alone after hearing the crushing news of his cousin’s execution. Was he imagining the crowds gathering on shore? Was he contemplating their enormous expectations for God — for him! — and anticipating their disappointment when every wish could not be granted?

 

Maybe. But that’s not what the Scripture says.

 

“His heart was moved with pity,” we are told. I think of him looking at them all, so weary and uncertain and hungry. Pity — this is what he felt. Not resentment, exhaustion or frustration. Pity. And his precious heart was moved.

 

What a miracle. No details, no explanation. No dancing sun. But what a miracle.

 

©LPi

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