Too Much [Proper 13A - Matthew 14:13-21]

The Rt. Rev. Jeremiah Williamson

Matthew 14:13-21

 

Too Much

St. Hubert’s, Lake Pleasant

 

At the end of the day, it was simply far too much bread.  It is, admittedly, difficult to calculate the necessary allotment for a crowd numbered in the thousands.  And certainly, you don’t want to run out in the middle of the meal.  But as the satisfied masses dissipated, there was somehow still bread everywhere.  It was like standing in a vast field of wheat, but with no assembly required.

 

In the most mundane of times, life can be pretty unpredictable.  But this was an extreme version of that.  As the disciples collected the bread, five loaves and two fish must have felt like a distant memory.  All their early evening worries, like a silly dream.

 

By all accounts, it was a good day.  People were cured.  People were fed.  The crowds that circled the lake, on foot, left satisfied.  The expectations were high, and in a rare instance, the reality was higher.  And so, yes, it was a good day.

 

Except what today’s Gospel reading failed to tell us, what the lectionary left out, was the reason Jesus and his disciples were in that deserted place to begin with.  They were in mourning.  Jesus wasn’t on the boat, alone, for a break.  He was on the boat alone because his heart was broken.  He was on the boat because the bad news of John the Baptist’s execution made it to Jesus and he needed to be alone for a while.  Life can be pretty unpredictable.  And sometimes the unpredictable hits hard.

 

On one of the worst days of his young life, Jesus opened his heart to a desperate and needy crowd.  He felt sick with grief and yet he healed their sick.  He felt a pit in his stomach and yet he made sure their stomachs were filled.  On one of his worst days, he loved a great day into existence.

 

Was it a good day?  Yes.  Was it a bad day?  Yes.  Such is life.  It is a collection of painful and joyful moments.  Life surprises us with the best and the worst.  There are miracles and tragedies haunting every moment and every place on this planet.

 

And the people in those ancient crowds knew that.  They lived with the brutality of life.  They lived under imperial occupation.  They were constantly mined and extracted.  And threatened with violence – casual cruelty and daily trauma.  They passed by crucifixion crosses on the way to the market.  And in distant palaces prophets’ heads were on platters.

 

These folks came from the towns with diseases and afflictions; they came with pathologies and problems.  They lived in a place that never had quite enough food; they were always a flood or a drought away from starvation.  It was a hard life in a desert place in a subsistence time. 

 

But life was more than the problems.  It was also babies being born and friends carrying the afflicted to the healing hands of Jesus.  It was silly laughter and falling in love.  It was the sun setting into the lake and flowers appearing in the spring.  And so they couldn’t help believe that the world was also good.  And they were willing to chase that possibility. 

 

I’m sure the word was on the street about Jesus, but still there is something amazing about how a scrabbled people had enough faith to find hope floating alone in the middle of the lake.  When they found Jesus, he wasn’t hawking tickets or putting on a show.  He was drifting alone in his sorrows.  But still they believed he could heal them, and feed them, and save them.  And so they searched and they found him.

 

And they found the purest miracle of all: that he loved them.  They found that a lot of love can pour out of a broken heart.

 

At the end of the day, it was simply far too much bread.  And so each disciple found a basket.  And in the desert, twelve men filled twelve baskets with what was left over.  What started as five loaves and two fish became a feast for thousands.

 

And of course, this story is impossible.  But that is the point.  This story is not about the power of a potluck supper.  The poor people did not feed each other.

 

They found Jesus.  And Jesus gave them exactly what they needed.  Food, yes; they were hungry and human.  But more than just a meal. 

 

For one day, in the midst of their brittle existence, the people dined in the coming Kingdom of God.  Miracle broke into mundanity.  Extravagance shattered scarcity.  Joy overwhelmed pain.  And hungry hearts tasted the future that God is dreaming into reality.

 

There was too much bread.  Because with God there is always too much.  More than we can ever hope for.  More than we think we deserve.  More than enough.  A lot of love, an impossibly inexhaustible love, flows always and forever from the sacred heart of Jesus.