"Enough to Feed 5,000"
8-3-14 (Proper 13A/Ordinary 18A, Complementary)
Isaiah 55:1-5; Matthew 14:13-21
Enough To Feed 5,000
It’s a scene more amazing than even we tend to give it credit for - even though it’s a miracle, we have no idea how miraculous, how tremendous it really was. It happens naturally, even unintentionally, as we explore through the Scriptures piece by piece - we miss some of the larger story as we look at smaller stories. But as we look at this smaller story, it becomes even more amazing once we understand the things that happened just before this.
It might seem a little strange that we begin today’s passage with “Now when Jesus heard this…” what was it he had heard? Why did he go out into a deserted place by himself after he heard whatever it was that he heard? If we look just a few verses back into the beginning of Matthew 14, we learn that Jesus has just been informed that John the Baptist was executed.
It must have hit him like a semi truck loaded with concrete blocks. His own cousin - the man who had baptized him, who had literally gone before him and told others that he was coming… his own partner in ministry - ruthlessly beheaded and given as a gift by Herod at a foolish whim. Jesus had to have been reminded all too swiftly of the fragility of his own life, the precariousness of his own ministry, and the number of boats he had already rocked. And so Jesus determined he needed to take some time to himself, to go out into a deserted place for a time, collect himself, spend some time in prayer, and otherwise recharge for a moment. It’s something we see Jesus do several times in the Gospels - frankly, of the many things that we see Jesus do and teach, this is one that we often don’t take seriously enough: that there is a need for self-care, for us to take a “time-out” from the things going on around us, to step back from everything and simply recharge and collect our thoughts.
So this is what Jesus has gone to do as we come upon him in this scene today. He’s heard that John has been killed, he’s been dealt this terrible and sudden blow, and so he’s taking a time out for himself. But the crowds of people either don’t understand or don’t care. Like ancestors of the paparazzi that follow the celebrities of today, they don’t know how to leave Jesus alone or even to give him this simple time to himself to grieve over a lost relative and friend. They’ve got sick people who need healing, people who want to be blessed, people who are in need of this man who has already done these incredible acts in other towns and places. They follow him - out into the wilderness - the barren, rocky, hot desert that Jesus has gone out into to find some time for himself. They follow him and bring people who had no business being out into the wilderness out to him just so that they might find healing, themselves.
Now at this point - put yourself in the situation. You’ve just found out your cousin was killed. You go away for a bit to grieve, to collect yourself, and all of that… and as you’re in that place you’ve found all to yourself, it actually turns out that a whole crows of people have followed you because they need something specifically from you. How would you respond in that situation? Frayed and stressed, burdened with grief and needing that time to yourself… what would you tell those crowds? “I know you need things, but can’t I just have a few minutes to myself? Could you come back, say… after lunch or something?” It wouldn’t have been too much for Jesus to ask this - it would have been completely understandable. But instead of that, Jesus had compassion on those in the crowd. He opened up his arms, welcomed them to himself, and healed their sick.
This is the start of the miracle, right here - the fact that even in the depths of Jesus’ grief and sorrow for his own loss, he lays that all aside out of his great compassion for the people to whom he was sent and continues in his ministry to heal, to preach, and to proclaim the Kingdom. His compassion is so great that he stays the whole day - even into the evening - just so that the people can continue coming to him and receiving healing and more.
So it’s completely natural at this point, then, that the miraculous continues to break its way into the world through Christ as the evening wears on. Jesus’ disciples encourage him to send the crowds away so that they can go to their homes, have dinner, and take their rest - giving Jesus that time to himself in the process, as well - and Jesus gives them a different instruction: he tells them to feed the people themselves.
And here’s the incredible thing: take a second and notice very carefully, here - it’s not exactly Jesus who feeds this multitude… but the disciples. Jesus takes this same sense of compassion and service that has caused him to put himself and his own grief aside and now turns it onto the disciples: “You give them something to eat.” Don’t worry about how much you can scrounge up for yourselves - simply continue in the spirit of compassion and giving, and feed the people. Plain and simple. And so he takes the bread and the fish, looks up to heaven, blesses the food, and gives it to the disciples to feed the people.
Some say that the five loaves and two fish somehow just lasted - they just didn’t run out. Every time a disciple reached down to take another chunk off the fish and to hand out another piece from a loaf, there was still more in the basket - like the old story of the man who would pull out a nickel no matter how many times he reached into his pocket. But what if… just maybe… Jesus’ own miraculous compassion and hospitality produced a miracle among the crowds? What if, as this basket of five loaves and two fish is being passed out to the people in the front of the crowds, some of the other folks in the crowd realized “you know, I have some bread and fish of my own - I ought to share it?” And the gift of one person was multiplied by hundreds of others who were suddenly inspired to pay it forward and to share in this moment of compassion and hospitality? Does it make it any less miraculous, or does it make it more miraculous in that we are able to literally watch the generosity of one person flow out into thousands of others? What if, out of a situation of scarcity, out of a place of nothingness where Jesus was emptied, low on energy and in need of self-care, out of a place where the disciples felt that there was no way that they could gather enough to feed an entire crowd… what if, out of these places where we feel that there is never enough… God uses a single act of selfless generosity that creates enough?
It’s miraculous. And it’s this very kind of miracle, this very same kind of transformation in our thinking and action that we need still today. What would it look like in our world if we determined that, even out of our own feelings of not enough, our own desires to turn inwardly and to focus on ourselves and our own problems… what if we turned those things outward and chose to have compassion on others, instead? What if we realized that we had enough, that even with our own meager five loaves and two fish, we had enough to be a blessing to someone else? We, too, could be instruments of healing, of transforming lives… and through our own generosity, our own actions of hospitality and self-sacrifice, we could inspire others to do the same? Isn’t that a miracle, too? Out of our own weakness, our own failures, our own frailty and feelings of not enough… God creates enough, even enough to feed 5,000 and to have food left over, no less. What a miracle that would be. To God be the Glory. Amen.
Isaiah 55:1-5; Matthew 14:13-21
Enough To Feed 5,000
It’s a scene more amazing than even we tend to give it credit for - even though it’s a miracle, we have no idea how miraculous, how tremendous it really was. It happens naturally, even unintentionally, as we explore through the Scriptures piece by piece - we miss some of the larger story as we look at smaller stories. But as we look at this smaller story, it becomes even more amazing once we understand the things that happened just before this.
It might seem a little strange that we begin today’s passage with “Now when Jesus heard this…” what was it he had heard? Why did he go out into a deserted place by himself after he heard whatever it was that he heard? If we look just a few verses back into the beginning of Matthew 14, we learn that Jesus has just been informed that John the Baptist was executed.
It must have hit him like a semi truck loaded with concrete blocks. His own cousin - the man who had baptized him, who had literally gone before him and told others that he was coming… his own partner in ministry - ruthlessly beheaded and given as a gift by Herod at a foolish whim. Jesus had to have been reminded all too swiftly of the fragility of his own life, the precariousness of his own ministry, and the number of boats he had already rocked. And so Jesus determined he needed to take some time to himself, to go out into a deserted place for a time, collect himself, spend some time in prayer, and otherwise recharge for a moment. It’s something we see Jesus do several times in the Gospels - frankly, of the many things that we see Jesus do and teach, this is one that we often don’t take seriously enough: that there is a need for self-care, for us to take a “time-out” from the things going on around us, to step back from everything and simply recharge and collect our thoughts.
So this is what Jesus has gone to do as we come upon him in this scene today. He’s heard that John has been killed, he’s been dealt this terrible and sudden blow, and so he’s taking a time out for himself. But the crowds of people either don’t understand or don’t care. Like ancestors of the paparazzi that follow the celebrities of today, they don’t know how to leave Jesus alone or even to give him this simple time to himself to grieve over a lost relative and friend. They’ve got sick people who need healing, people who want to be blessed, people who are in need of this man who has already done these incredible acts in other towns and places. They follow him - out into the wilderness - the barren, rocky, hot desert that Jesus has gone out into to find some time for himself. They follow him and bring people who had no business being out into the wilderness out to him just so that they might find healing, themselves.
Now at this point - put yourself in the situation. You’ve just found out your cousin was killed. You go away for a bit to grieve, to collect yourself, and all of that… and as you’re in that place you’ve found all to yourself, it actually turns out that a whole crows of people have followed you because they need something specifically from you. How would you respond in that situation? Frayed and stressed, burdened with grief and needing that time to yourself… what would you tell those crowds? “I know you need things, but can’t I just have a few minutes to myself? Could you come back, say… after lunch or something?” It wouldn’t have been too much for Jesus to ask this - it would have been completely understandable. But instead of that, Jesus had compassion on those in the crowd. He opened up his arms, welcomed them to himself, and healed their sick.
This is the start of the miracle, right here - the fact that even in the depths of Jesus’ grief and sorrow for his own loss, he lays that all aside out of his great compassion for the people to whom he was sent and continues in his ministry to heal, to preach, and to proclaim the Kingdom. His compassion is so great that he stays the whole day - even into the evening - just so that the people can continue coming to him and receiving healing and more.
So it’s completely natural at this point, then, that the miraculous continues to break its way into the world through Christ as the evening wears on. Jesus’ disciples encourage him to send the crowds away so that they can go to their homes, have dinner, and take their rest - giving Jesus that time to himself in the process, as well - and Jesus gives them a different instruction: he tells them to feed the people themselves.
And here’s the incredible thing: take a second and notice very carefully, here - it’s not exactly Jesus who feeds this multitude… but the disciples. Jesus takes this same sense of compassion and service that has caused him to put himself and his own grief aside and now turns it onto the disciples: “You give them something to eat.” Don’t worry about how much you can scrounge up for yourselves - simply continue in the spirit of compassion and giving, and feed the people. Plain and simple. And so he takes the bread and the fish, looks up to heaven, blesses the food, and gives it to the disciples to feed the people.
Some say that the five loaves and two fish somehow just lasted - they just didn’t run out. Every time a disciple reached down to take another chunk off the fish and to hand out another piece from a loaf, there was still more in the basket - like the old story of the man who would pull out a nickel no matter how many times he reached into his pocket. But what if… just maybe… Jesus’ own miraculous compassion and hospitality produced a miracle among the crowds? What if, as this basket of five loaves and two fish is being passed out to the people in the front of the crowds, some of the other folks in the crowd realized “you know, I have some bread and fish of my own - I ought to share it?” And the gift of one person was multiplied by hundreds of others who were suddenly inspired to pay it forward and to share in this moment of compassion and hospitality? Does it make it any less miraculous, or does it make it more miraculous in that we are able to literally watch the generosity of one person flow out into thousands of others? What if, out of a situation of scarcity, out of a place of nothingness where Jesus was emptied, low on energy and in need of self-care, out of a place where the disciples felt that there was no way that they could gather enough to feed an entire crowd… what if, out of these places where we feel that there is never enough… God uses a single act of selfless generosity that creates enough?
It’s miraculous. And it’s this very kind of miracle, this very same kind of transformation in our thinking and action that we need still today. What would it look like in our world if we determined that, even out of our own feelings of not enough, our own desires to turn inwardly and to focus on ourselves and our own problems… what if we turned those things outward and chose to have compassion on others, instead? What if we realized that we had enough, that even with our own meager five loaves and two fish, we had enough to be a blessing to someone else? We, too, could be instruments of healing, of transforming lives… and through our own generosity, our own actions of hospitality and self-sacrifice, we could inspire others to do the same? Isn’t that a miracle, too? Out of our own weakness, our own failures, our own frailty and feelings of not enough… God creates enough, even enough to feed 5,000 and to have food left over, no less. What a miracle that would be. To God be the Glory. Amen.
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