Pentecost 9A
August 6, 2017
Matthew 14:13-21
Grace to you and peace from God our
Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
Jesus was
tired. Not just physically tired – he was the sort of bone tired you get when
you have been working hard, and then, you are faced with an unimaginable
tragedy. You see, he had just found out that his friend, relative, and
co-worker in the gospel, John the Baptist, had been beheaded as a part of some
rich people’s party gone awry. It was so unnecessary, so senseless, purely an
act of hatred and fear… and Jesus was grieving. Even in the midst of his pain, I
have to wonder if Jesus also feared a little for himself – if Herod and his
cronies would behead John, maybe he was next!
Jesus
understandably needed to get away from it all for a bit, to sort out what had
just happened, and talk to his Dad about it. We have all been there, haven’t
we? You just need a little “you time,” where no one else is demanding your
attention, and you can find some rest for your soul and for your body, and some
time for prayer, so you’ll be equipped to get back to your daily work refreshed
and energized. I feel you, Jesus. You hop in that boat and head somewhere
deserted, re-fuel, and we’ll see you on the flip side.
But no, it was not to be. A crowd
follows him out there – 5000 men plus women and children, all of them in need
of something: healing of body or spirit, love, guidance, and, we would come to
find out, food. Their needs are various and they are many. And those, let’s
call it 10,000 people are all hammering on Jesus’ proverbial door, asking for
help. And so Jesus, being Jesus, doesn’t just turn his back and say, “Just give
me a minute!” No, he has compassion on the crowd. And he brings them the
healing that they crave.
"Loaves and Fishes" by Helen Moloney http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/diglib-fulldisplay.pl?SID= 20170820155975341&code=act&RC=55894&Row=13 |
It’s been a long day for Jesus. He
was emotionally drained from the
beginning, as he was grieving his cousin. He was running on empty. And now he has spent the whole
afternoon healing thousands of hurting, hungry people. But now evening is
drawing near. The disciples, always eager to be helpful but so often missing
the mark, point out to Jesus that they are smack in the middle of
Nowheresville, where there is nothing to eat for several thousand hungry
people, and it was getting dark. He needed to send them away so they could get
themselves some food. How rational, even considerate of the disciples: if these
folks are going to be able to help themselves, they say, we need to send them
on their way. But Jesus is rarely rational. He says, “Nah, they don’t need to
go anywhere. You give them something to eat.” I can just picture the disciples
looking at each other, exchanging that glance that says, “Has he lost it? Has
he seen the crowd size?” Again, being their rational selves, they point out,
“We have nothing here but fives
loaves and two fish.” Certainly not
enough to feed 10,000 people!
I am really caught by their statement
here… because it is a statement I have made myself so many times. It starts by
minimizing your gifts. “We have nothing…” they say. We have no money. We have
no ideas. We have no goals or direction. We have no people to lead the effort.
We have no talent. It is a statement of scarcity, which begins by noticing how
little, how not-enough there is available. It is often a refrain heard around
church council tables: We’d like to start that ministry, but we have no time or
resources. We’d like to grow our Sunday School, but we have no teachers. We’d
like to fix our building, but we have no money. We’d like to feed the crowd,
but we have nothing. So, we won’t do anything.
Pastor Molly Baskette tells a story
of when she was talking to a church consultant about her efforts to revive her
small church. She laments, “If only we didn’t have 35 people and a crumbling
building!” The consultant looks at her and says, “Do you know how many mission
congregations [who start with a pastor and only a few people] would love to
have 35 people and a crumbling building?” What a perspective shift!
And that’s what happens in the next
part of the disciples’ statement. “We have nothing… but five loaves and two fish.” Well! I guess they didn’t have “nothing”
after all! Five loaves and two fish are very much something – certainly enough
for the God who created the universe out of literally nothing to feed a few
thousand people! And so in a culture not even accustomed to eating until they
are full, every last one of those hungry people ate until they were satisfied,
and there was even a little more.
This is a story about so many things
– it’s no wonder it is the only miracle of Jesus that appears in all four of
the Gospels – but what we can see in it today is how God turns our “nothing”
into an abundance. Jesus takes his drained, tired, grieving self, and turns it
into healing for others. Jesus takes the disciples’ doubt, and turns it into
hope. And most impressively, Jesus takes “only” five loaves and two fishes, and
turns it into a remarkable feast for 10,000 people.
This is a story we need to hear.
Because those conversations that go on around church council tables – about how
we don’t have the leaders, or the volunteers, or the money to balance the
budget – these conversations happen also in our personal lives. And probably
nowhere more obviously than in how we manage our money. I think we often
approach our money habits the same way as the disciples in this story: we look
at things very reasonably, look at the situation, what makes practical sense,
and go with it. “We have nothing,” we say, “but what we need to pay the bills,
put some in savings, and have a little extra.” But just like with the
disciples, that is quite a bit more than nothing, isn’t it! And to categorize
it with such a limiting word as “nothing” is not to leave space for our loving,
compassionate God to do God’s life-giving work!
Now, I know that Jesus isn’t
typically coming into our bank accounts and multiplying the dollars to the tune
of 5000 times of what we had. But when we give to God from our hearts, out of
faith, and with our trust, presenting our proverbial “five loaves and two
fishes” not with a descriptor of “nothing,” but rather as, “something I have to
offer,” God multiplies it in different ways. It is multiplied in gratitude and
joy – research even supports that the more the generous you are, the more
grateful and joyful. It is multiplied in prayer – for each dollar you give to
the church gets soaked in prayer, immediately here during worship, and every
other step along the way as it goes to do God’s work. It is multiplied in love
– as it goes on to help and serve those whom God loves, you and the people it
serves become connected in a way that only love can do.
So when you give to God, your money
does very much get multiplied! Because this is how our God works. Our God makes
big things out of no-things. Our God makes compassion out of fatigue, healing
out of a desert, a feast out of five loaves and two fishes, and grace and
salvation out of death on a cross. Our God makes belonging and everlasting life
out of a pool of water, and forgiveness out of a piece of bread and a sip of
wine. If we truly believe that, that our God is capable of all these things,
then why do we look at our finances, our churches, our lives, and say, “We have
nothing”? We have so little, we must keep it for ourselves lest we lose
everything! We don’t have nothing – we have everything,
because we have the love, grace and power of our God, who continually multiplies,
and brings everything out of no-thing.
Let us pray… God of everything, when we try to tell you or ourselves that we have
nothing, show us the abundance around us. Show us how you turn nothing into
everything we could possibly need, and more. Give us generous hearts, hearts
that trust in your providence, and your abundance. In the name of the Father
and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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