Sermon: Proper 13A – Matthew 14.13-21

Today marks the beginning of my tenth week in Grahamstown and as a part of the St. Michael and St. George community. Therese and I can’t tell you just how deeply our time here has touched us both. You have welcomed us into your homes. You have allowed us to be a part of your daily lives and your worship life. In the midst of an otherwise hectic life that defines the life of an ordinand and family, you have given us a special gift this winter. You have let us come here and live not just among you, but as one of you – you have given us an experience we will carry with us the rest of our lives. Thank you.

Part of this gift is that we didn’t just get exposed to the joys and celebrations, but the challenges and sadnesses as well. You have given a snapshot of real life in Grahamstown, not just what tourists see. Most importantly of all, we got to join this community in its life of discipleship – Evensongs, Student Services, Taize, Bible studies, a funeral, SpiritFest, Communion visits, the Hunger Supper, and the regularly offered Eucharist are all parts of this community’s life in Christ that I have not only witnessed, but been a part of. Not just observed you encountering Christ, but encountered him with you. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

In today’s reading from the Gospel according to St. Matthew, we hear one of the most famous stories in all of Scripture – the feeding of the 5,000. The final line of which sticks out to modern ears as sexist, but is worth repeating - it reads: “And those who ate were about 5000 men, besides women and children.” If we take seriously what sociologists say about the gathering of large crowds – that for every adult male there are usually five or six women and children – then this reading could more appropriately be called the feeding of the 35,000.

This reading is also interesting because the selection made by the lectionary means that the reading begins by referring to a story we did not hear. The gospel reading began, “Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself.” Last week, we heard Jesus teaching in parables, so what did he hear that prompted him to withdraw to be by himself?
Jesus was notified of John the Baptist’s execution. John was executed at the request of Herodias’ daughter after she enticed Herod with her dancing. He was executed because he dared tell Herod that his relationship with Herodius was illegal and sinful because she was his own brother’s wife.
John the Baptist is dead. The last and greatest prophet died alone in prison away from his friends. The Voice crying out in the wilderness has been silenced. Jesus’ own cousin, the one who baptized him in the river Jordan, has been killed by the authorities because of his witness. John’s disciples tell this to Jesus. If you’ve ever told someone the news of the death of a loved one, you can imagine what this would have been like, “Rabbi Jesus, your cousin is dead.”

And so Jesus wished to withdraw and be by himself and with God. He has a lot to think about. John died because of his witness, and Jesus is now attracting attention from the same authorities.
But Jesus isn’t the only one affected by this news. The next line in the text reads, “But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns.” Jesus needed to be alone so he got in a boat to get a way, to find peace in the silence. But John wasn’t just Jesus’ cousin, but a prophet with many disciples and many more followers. The crowd hears of John’s death and they are distraught at his death, curious about what Jesus will do, and longing to find comfort. And so Jesus, who wants to be alone, gets ashore and finds some 35,000 people looking to him for answers. He very well could have gotten back in his boat and gone somewhere else, but he didn’t. Jesus had compassion on them and cured their sick.

When I was a child and heard phrases like Jesus “cured their sick” I used to imagine him walking through crowds just touching people and casually saying “be well” “stand up and walk” “you’re healed” and pass through the crowd as if he were a ghost. But that is hardly the true picture of healing. Jesus spent the day with them and healing them. This means having conversations, giving support, offering human touch, listening, prayer, and relationship. This is healing, and ask any nurse, chaplain, or any other caregiver to the sick just how much energy it takes. Jesus is tired. He still hasn’t had time to process John’s death and at the end of a long day the disciples come to Jesus and act as we do. They act selfishly.

They come to Jesus and say to him, the day is nearly over, send these people away. It makes sense, they too knew John, they too need to grieve, they too need to be with their Teacher to be comforted. The pretense is that the crowd will surely need to eat, it is supper time. A reasonable line of thought. Yes, these people will be hungry for a while but they will have to go home eventually and surely they have something to eat there. They’ve only been on the road with Jesus for less than a day. They could have departed down the weary road for some bread at home. And so Jesus, who has still spent no time alone and tired from this long day, hears the voices of his disciples telling him to be reasonable. He takes their reasonable ideas and turns things around, no, he says, you feed them. They would not do it. How could they? They are tired, in mourning, and hungry themselves. Moreover, they were selfish and wanted him to themselves. The easy and reasonable thing to do is to disperse the crowd so they can all go to their homes. The costly, life-giving thing to do is to feed them; feed them now. And so, after their initial protests, Jesus gives them the bread with which to feed the people. And all ate their fill.

This story is hardly the story of my childhood imaginations. Jesus’ ministry of healing is not just him touching people and pronouncing healing from a safe distance. Jesus feeding the five thousand wasn’t just another magic trick – multiplying bread. That in itself is hardly a sign of his Messiah-ship. Stories of the prophet Elisha feeding people abound in II Kings. But, as hearers of the word who have been trained in the Western academic tradition, we hear this story and think, wow 5 loaves and 2 fish for thousands of people! That’s impossible, how’d he do that?! And the story becomes about how Jesus can make food last or one of multiplying fish. We miss the much deeper truth to this story that is about so much more than bread and fish. If we take away the details of fish and bread, what are we left with?

Tragedy strikes, a public figure, family member, and friend has been killed. The people are languishing in sorrow, despair, and are hungry. The disciples too are sorrowful and desperate for time with Jesus. The disciples are even willing to send the other people away so they can have Jesus to themselves. Jesus does the opposite and sends the disciples into multitude; Jesus feeds the disciples and they feed the people. And all ate their fill.
How many times have we heard Jesus say, “to those who have, more will be given. And to those who have not, even that will be taken away”? It sounds so unreasonable, yet this story is the perfect illustration of this truth. Brothers and sisters, we are the disciples in this story. We are the ones who tell Christ and ourselves that the reasonable thing to do is to dismiss the multitudes, the ones who tell Christ and ourselves that they’ll be fine; we don’t need to be the ones who take care of them. But hear the words of Christ, “they don’t need to go anywhere. You feed them.”

In the time I have been here, you have fed me. In the midst of the tragedies going on outside these walls, you have fed me and my family. You took time out to welcome us, offered us warm drink when it was cold, offered us who are strangers your homes, and offered your valuable time to us. You have given us food that will stay with us longer than the time of a meal of bread and fish. You have fed us.

Times are hard and may get harder for you and for the multitude outside these walls looking for comfort from the Teacher. Hear his words, they need not leave; feed them. And all shall eat their fill.