Sermon based on Matthew 4:13-21 preached at Community of Christ in Whitehouse, OH on August 6, 2023.
The disciples’ impulse in this story is 100 % relatable: “Jesus, we really feel you should send the people away to take care of themselves. We have nothing for them here.” It sounds like the tapes that replay in our heads on most days, right? I’m all out of patience, ideas… I’ve got enough work to take care of my own family.
Of course Jesus’ response is frustratingly in line with who he is and how he behaves throughout his ministry. He speaks abundance into being, when his followers are focused on scarcity. “Look around again; you do have enough. It may not seem like enough. But it is. You are enough. What you have to give will be enough, with God’s blessing.”
According to Professor Nicholas Schaser, as Matthew tells his version of this story, there are allusions to the Exodus, the defining story of the Jewish people, and to the Last Supper, one of our most significant Christian rituals. In Lutheran Christianity, the Last Supper communion meal is a sacrament, where we encounter God during our human actions, because of Jesus’ promises. Schaser says, “Framing the feeding in this way allows the evangelist to draw a parallel between God saving the Israelites from Egyptian slavery and Jesus saving his people from their sins.” God saves us, then and now and in the future. But I recognize something else going on too. Holding with both hands to the identity story of the Exodus and the future feast that has no end, it is abundantly clear: We are still in the middle of God’s ongoing story.
The people followed Jesus “on foot” and he feeds them – that phrase “on foot” was used while the Hebrews were escaping Egypt. They are counted in this story as 5 thousand men (plus women and children, while in the Exodus story it is 6 thousand men, and “the little ones”). The “deserted place” echoes where Moses demanded Pharaoh allow the Hebrews to go out and worship their God in the wilderness, the deserted place.
So for those steeped in the Jewish tradition, whose ears are tuned to nuances when hearing these stories told aloud, those Exodus references would echo in their souls. They say to themselves: “This is our story… it’s still happening with Jesus… maybe we’re still in it.”
The “sustenance” that Jesus provides when he feeds these people, like at the Last Supper, is both a foretaste of the feast to come, and a reminder of how God acts to care for our bodies here and now. We eat of it every Sunday, and sometimes we are what we eat, and Jesus becomes us. And other times maybe the Jesus we’ve taken in flows out before it gets applied exactly to the way we’re interacting with each other.
Jesus’ actions in this feeding story echo not only how he institutes the Lord’s Supper, blessing and breaking the bread, then giving it to them, but it also echoes how we enact it – we give it to each other in his absence. Jesus’ own body and blood are entwined with escaping Egypt in the past. But also, this story isn’t over. It is continuing, a cycle.
The United Church of Christ denomination used to have a tagline and logo that featured a “comma” and the words, “God is still speaking.” God’s action is not an event from the past. It is on-going. We are living in the midst of it.
God is still speaking surprising things into being.
- Like you being capable of leading people into a meaningful relationship with God, even though you think you have nothing that prepares you for that role.
- God is still speaking surprising things into being like you being able to jostle out of a habit of going to church that you are not sure why you do it, into a deeper, more formative spirituality that cannot be kept to Sunday mornings.
- God is still speaking surprising things into being like you looking around you in this congregation or your larger network and seeing abundance instead of scarcity, that you are actually equipped to take a stand, and change what people think and therefore do because of their faith.
God is still speaking. God is still acting, this time through us.
But we have imposter syndrome. We question whether we have enough or are enough to do the work of God that is right here in front of us, hungry. Even though we are hemmed in on either side by stories of God delivering us from evil again and again. We are afraid that if we speak up or act, everyone will discover we were the imposter, the one who doesn’t have enough faith, or isn’t good enough to lead. I feel like I might have cited “imposter syndrome” in a sermon before? It’s a theme.
But you and I are what God has to work with. So let’s be honest.
We are the Body of Christ who lift up a few loaves and fish, all that we’ve been able to find, to God, in trust that God will once again multiply it for the nourishment of all who hunger. Now, I’ve noticed a few of the things you have to offer, Community of Christ, and they are interesting. You’ve got some of the typical fish and loaves that many congregations have: meals and prayer lists and lots of grandparents. And you’ve got some unique ones: the toolbox group, a working actor, teachers, scientists, members of the school board, and people whose brother or daughter or someone they love has stretched their hearts to understand and want to embrace diverse people. Golly, what might God do with those loaves and fish?
Jesus speaks to us: “Bring me what you have.” Then he blesses it, and turns it back over to the disciples to give away, while it multiplies in their hands.
Now, whatever you are going to do to respond to needs in the community, you might have an inclination once you get going, to send people with needs back where they came from, because it gets to be a logistical nightmare, and you really begin to question whether you have enough physical or emotional resources to do anything about any of the community’s needs. You may question whether you are enough. But people of God, Community of Christ, be assured, God is still speaking. God is still telling this story, and we are in it. Let us not attempt to put a period, where God writes a comma.
Lee Ann M. Pomrenke 