The Syndrome of Philip and the Syndrome of Andrew

⏱️ Reading time: 4 min.

In the Gospel account of John, chapter 6, verses 4-14, which recounts the multiplication of the loaves, there are certain details that I dwell on at length whenever I meditate on or comment on this passage.


It all begins when, faced with the ‘large’ hungry crowd, Jesus invites His disciples to take responsibility for feeding them.
The details I refer to are, first, when Philip says it is impossible to answer this call due to the sheer number of people present. Andrew, on the other hand, points out that “there is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish,” only to dismiss the possibility with a simple remark, “but what are these for so many?” (v.9).

I simply wish to share with you, dear readers, how we Christians—who are called to share the joy of our faith—can sometimes, unknowingly, be affected by either Philip’s syndrome or Andrew’s syndrome. At times, perhaps, even by both!

In the life of the Church, as well as in the life of the Salesian Congregation and Family, challenges are never lacking and never will be. Ours is not a call to form a group where people merely seek to be comfortable, without disturbing, and without being disturbed. It is not an experience of pre-packaged certainties. Belonging to the body of Christ must not distract us or remove us from the reality of the world as it is. On the contrary, it urges us to be fully engaged in the events of human history. This means first and foremost, looking at reality not only with human eyes but also, and above all, with the eyes of Jesus. We are called to respond guided by love, which finds its source in the heart of Jesus—that is, to live for others as Jesus teaches us and shows us.

Philip’s Syndrome
Philip’s syndrome is subtle, and for this reason, it is also very dangerous. His analysis is correct and accurate. His response to Jesus’ invitation is not wrong. His reasoning follows a very straightforward and flawless human logic. He looked at reality with his human eyes, with a rational mind, and concluded that it was unfeasible. Faced with this “calculated” approach, the hungry person ceases to concern me—the problem is theirs, not mine. To be more precise in light of our daily experiences, the refugee could have stayed home; they shouldn’t bother me. The poor and the sick must deal with their own issues, and it’s not my place to be part of their problem, much less to find them a solution. This is Philip’s syndrome. He is a follower of Jesus, yet his way of seeing and interpreting reality remains stagnant, unchallenged, light-years away from that of his Master.

Andrew’s Syndrome
Then there is Andrew’s syndrome. I wouldn’t say it’s worse than Philip’s, but it comes close to being more tragic. It is a subtle and cynical syndrome; it sees some possible opportunity but doesn’t go further. There is a tiny glimmer of hope, but humanly speaking, it’s unworkable. So, both the gift and the giver are disqualified. And the giver, who in this case has the ‘misfortune’ of being a boy, is simply willing to share what he has!
These two syndromes are still with us today, in the Church and even among us pastors and educators. Crushing a small hope is easier than making room for God’s surprise—a surprise that can make even the smallest hope blossom. Allowing ourselves to be conditioned by dominant clichés, avoiding opportunities that challenge reductive interpretations, is a constant temptation. If we’re not careful, we become prophets and executors of our own downfall. By stubbornly clinging to a human logic— ‘academically’ refined and ‘intellectually’ qualified—the space for an evangelical reading becomes increasingly limited and eventually disappears.
When this human and horizontal logic is challenged, one of the defensive reactions it provokes is that of ‘ridicule.’ Those who dare to defy human logic by letting in the fresh air of the Gospel will be mocked, attacked, and ridiculed. When this happens, strangely enough, we can say we are on a prophetic path. The waters are stirring.

Jesus and the Two Syndromes
Jesus overcomes both syndromes by “taking” the loaves, which were considered too few and therefore irrelevant. He opens the door to that prophetic and faithful space we are called to inhabit. Faced with the crowd, we cannot settle for self-referential readings and interpretations. Following Jesus means going beyond human reasoning. We are called to look at challenges through His eyes. When Jesus calls us, He does not ask for solutions but for the gift of our whole selves—with all that we are and all that we have. Yet, the risk is that, faced with His call, we remain stuck, enslaved by our own thinking and clinging to what we believe we possess.
Only in generosity, grounded in abandonment to His Word, do we come to gather the abundance of Jesus’ providential action. “So, they gathered them up and filled twelve baskets with fragments from the five barley loaves left by those who had eaten” (v.13). The boy’s small gift bears astonishing fruit only because the two syndromes did not have the final word.

Pope Benedict XVI commented on the boy’s gesture, “In the scene of the multiplication, the presence of a boy is also noted, who, faced with the difficulty of feeding so many people, shares the little he has: five loaves and two fish. The miracle does not come from nothing, but from an initial modest sharing of what a simple boy had with him. Jesus does not ask for what we do not have, but shows us that if each one offers the little they have, the miracle can always happen anew. God can multiply our small gesture of love and make us sharers in His gift” (Angelus, 29 July 2012).

Faced with the pastoral challenges before us, faced with the deep thirst and hunger for spirituality that young people express, let us not be afraid, let us not cling to our own things or ways of thinking. Let us offer the little we have to Him, trusting in the light of His Word—and may this, and only this, be the enduring criterion of our choices and the guiding light of our actions.


Photo: Evangelical miracle of the multiplication of loaves and fishes, stained glass window at Tewkesbury Abbey in Gloucestershire (United Kingdom), an 1888 work created by Hardman & Co