Sermon - Pentecost 10 - Matthew 14:13-21

 

If you were to make a top 10 list of Jesus miracles, certainly the resurrection would top the list.  You might include the 3 people he raised from the dead.  Maybe you’re partial to his turning water into wine.  But any such list must include the feeding of the 5000.  It is the only miracle besides the resurrection itself included in all four gospels. And so this is a story that is familiar to most of us. 

It is also worth noting that some of God’s greatest works and most profound lessons for us are associated with universal, everyday experiences and situations common to every person.  We all have a father.  We all use water to wash.  We all know what it’s like to be hungry.  We all know what it is to eat.  We do it every day.

And so a basic and fundamental lesson that even a child can understand here is that Jesus feeds his people.

The story starts with Jesus withdrawing to a “desolate place” when he hears that John the Baptist was murdered by Herod.  Perhaps like his weeping at the grave of his friend Lazarus, it seems Jesus is personally affected by the death of his cousin and forerunner, John.  He seems to intend to get away from the crowds, to go out of the spotlight, and retreat for a time of prayer. 

But his plan, it seems, was interrupted.  According to his human nature, of course, things don’t always go as Jesus plans, or knows.  The crowd that he sought a break from finds him anyway.  And rather than double down and withdraw again, our Lord has compassion.  He heals their sick.  He teaches them all day.  And he already has in mind a miraculous feeding.

But first he tests his disciples’ faith.  When they begin to worry about the needs of the crowd – and that’s not a bad thing for the disciples to be concerned about their bodily needs – but they don’t seem to trust that Jesus can handle things.  We’ve got to intervene.  We’ve got to tell Jesus that something has to be done!  Send them away to get some food, already! 

Jesus pushes back on them.  “They don’t need to go away.  You give them something to eat.”  I like to imagine a pregnant pause here, as the disciples look at each other in disbelief.  Did Jesus really suggest something that preposterous?  We don’t have that kind of money.  Heck, we’ve only got 5 loaves and 2 fish.  What is Jesus talking about?  He’s really taken John’s death hard, hasn’t he?

But, no.  He tests their faith.  He wants them to confess their inability, their own need.  He wants them to come to him for aid. 

And perhaps here is a reflection point for us.  How often our Lord seems to put us also in a no-win situation.  Where our patience is stretched or our fears begin to surface.  When we are called upon to be faithful, or humble, or kind, or all of the above, and it just seems so hard.  We are confronted with our own inabilities and shortcomings.  We are limited creatures, after all, and sinful at that. 

But once we, like the disciples, fall flat on our face, Jesus comes to the rescue:  “Bring them to me.”  Bring the loaves of bread to me.  Bring the paltry few fish to me.  Bring your limited resources and your faults and failings.  Bring your frustrations and your exhaustion.  Bring your inadequacy and confusion.  Bring your sorrows, your suffering, your guilt and shame, your very life itself to Jesus.  And he will bless.

Luther makes a similar observation.  He says: “The great need of the disciples on this occasion was that, though they could think and figure, they did not believe or realize what kind of Lord they had in Christ. And that is the universal need even today, not only when we need food but also when we realize all sorts of necessities. We know how to figure and calculate carefully so that our needs might be filled. But when help does not come immediately as we would like it, we get nothing out of our careful figuring and calculating except sorrow and loss of spirit. It would be much better for us to commend the whole matter to God and not think so much about our needs.”

And so Jesus provides for people’s needs.  The Good Shepherd has the sheep to lie down in this green pasture and he feeds them.  Here we see another few details worth noting:  He has them sit down for the meal.  He gives thanks.  He gives the food to the disciples, and the disciples distribute it. 

Far from a free-for-all, Jesus does everything in an orderly fashion.  There is no rush.  There is attention to detail.  He empowers his disciples with their own role and task.

The church learns from this.  We, too, must conduct ourselves properly.  We distribute the gifts of Christ in an orderly way.  There is no free-for-all in the church, but as Paul, too, encourages the Corinthian church that all things be done decently and in good order.  We are careful and deliberate in our worship life.  We are careful, especially, with the holy things of God, the sacraments.  We are careful, also, handling the Word of God, rightly dividing law and gospel.  Pastors are called as stewards of the mysteries of God, and given the public exercise of the keys.  But likewise, every Christian is called to be a hearer of the word, and to carefully search the scriptures, and give attention to the word.  We pay attention to God’s order in creation, in the family, in the church, and in our lives.

Furthermore, Jesus gives thanks.  He prays and thanks his Father for the gifts about to be given.  And so it is fitting also for Christians to pray in thanksgiving for his gifts, recognizing all good gifts come from our loving Father.  And we pray, especially at mealtimes, giving thanks for our daily bread.  We pray after we receive those gifts, and even before we receive them, trusting him to be the good provider of daily bread and all spiritual blessings.

Jesus broke the bread and gave it to the disciples to distribute.  He could have given the bread and fish directly, but he worked through the means of his disciples, much as he works through the means of his pastors today, to distribute his gifts to his people.

All ate and were satisfied.  You see, when he gives, it’s always enough. In fact, as the disciples gather the 12 baskets of leftovers, we see it’s even more than enough.  It’s an abundance.  We cannot exhaust God’s giving by our needs.  He always, always has more to give.

You are baptized.  But there’s more there than just what happened on that day long ago.  Your baptism is a daily trove of blessings.  You have heard the word.  But that word keeps speaking to you, and you can never hear it too much.  You hear the words of absolution, abundantly, freely, and receive forgiveness even more abundant than your sins.  And you come, over and over, to this altar, to receive his holy Sacrament.  And though it’s always enough, there’s always more grace than your sin, more blessing than your need.

As I’ve talked to Lutherans about this passage over the years, I’m struck by how often people make connections between the feeding of the 5000 and the Lord’s Supper.  Of course, we Lutherans hold the Lord’s Supper in high esteem, and there are some connections here – with breaking of bread, giving thanks, and the Lord Jesus feeding his people.  While this miraculous meal was certainly NOT the sacrament, and this crowd, largely, it seems, were not true believers (for later they tried to make Jesus their bread-king).  Nevertheless, it’s certainly not a bad thing, though, to make the mental connection here with the Lord’s Supper, and I certainly don’t mind making the preaching connection either.

And perhaps also, we might consider that many, many more are fed by Jesus in the Sacrament, with a bread that is even more miraculous than that given to the 5000.  For it is his very body.  And the wine is his true blood.  And it is not given for the hunger of the stomach, but the need of the soul.  It offers the forgiveness of sins.  It brings life and salvation.  It strengthens faith.  It expresses our unity.  And it proclaims the Lord’s death until he comes.

Far more than 5000 Christians gather at this table, this Communion of Saints.  As heaven breaks into earth, and the Lamb’s high feast in eternity peeks through the ages, into our time and space, we are given us a foretaste of the feast to come, with angels and archangels, and all the company of heaven.

Truly, his body is the bread from heaven.  And his blood, shed for our redemption, is precious indeed.  Christ gave himself on the cross to provide for our deepest need, and it was more than enough.  All who trust in him are satisfied, and never disappointed.

So come today, and whatever is yours, bring it to Jesus.  And he will give you from his own abundance.  Come to his table, take eat and take drink, for the forgiveness of your sins.  Come and be satisfied.  And go, and give thanks.