A Sermon on Matthew 14:13-21

Preached August 4, 2002

First Christian Church, Corpus Christi, Texas

By Donald M. Tuttle

The day was fast coming to a close, yet there they were--crowding around Jesus. They had been there all day. And they had to be tired. After all they had earlier in the day run along the seashore, carrying their sick, following Jesus’ boat to this deserted place. And they had to be hungry too. They had not planned this trip. They hadn’t had time to fill their bags with bread or their skins with wine. The day’s events had unfolded too quickly. Now there they were--late in the evening, miles from home, tired and hungry, with no place to rest or food to eat.

Most of us can only imagine such a scene. Oh, maybe we have been on the road late at night. Maybe we have been tired and hungry. But many of us have never been more than a few minutes drive from a pair of golden arches or a Holiday Inn.

Still, their plight is not completely unknown to us, is it? Many in the crowds we see today are just as hungry. Oh, their bellies are full. It is their souls that are empty. They live, as Thoreau said, "lives of quiet desperation."

The list of hungers goes on and on because many people live with a void in their lives that they long to have filled.

The problem is, we don’t know what to do about it.

Curt was fresh out of college, social work degree in hand, when he was hired as a social worker. It was what he had trained for. It was what he had anticipated doing with his life. Yet within months he was struggling. He was depressed. He couldn’t sleep. He didn’t want to go to work. Tums was his best friend. The reason was simple. He knew the needs were greater than he could fill.

Of course, you don’t have to be a social worker to have that experience. How often are we at a loss when a friend tells us her marriage is in trouble or that his cancer has returned or that her child is addicted to drugs? We don’t know what to do. We take inventory, see that our meager resources are not enough in the face of their overwhelming need. Like the disciples, we "wish" it away. "Jesus, it’s late. There are no concession stands, no place for them to eat. We don’t have enough to give them. Send them away. Send them to the village. Let them get their food somewhere else."

But Jesus won’t let us off the hook. When the disciples urged him to send the crowd away, he told them to feed them. "You give them something to eat."

We would probably like to think that Jesus wasn’t serious--that he was just pulling the disciples’ chain. It is, after all, an absurd idea--a dozen disciples can’t possibly feed 5000 men, their wives and children. But Jesus insisted. His words were emphatic--"you, YOU give them something to eat." It is a command.

In our minds, Jesus doesn’t make such demands. He invites or encourages, suggests or advises. But that’s not the Jesus of Scripture. The Jesus we find in the Gospels often commands, particularly his disciples:

These were not suggestions or bits of advice. Like "you give them something to eat," they were commands, orders. That’s because following Jesus was not a matter of agreeing to a set of ideas or propositions. It was not about having a warm fuzzy feeling in one’s heart. To follow Jesus was to obey him.

And it still is. Jesus commands us to feed the hungry in our midst. He expects you and me, even with our meager little resources, to help others fill the voids that mar their lives. He expects us to have something to offer the co--worker in trouble, the friend in fear, the relative in pain.

The question is "how?" "How with our feeble little resources can we help?" The answer is simple. We give what we have to Christ and trust him to use it, multiply it.

Jesus told the disciples to give him the five loaves and two fish. And they did as he commanded. They turned over to him everything they had--everything that they had counted on for their own meal, their own strength, their own life. They give it all to Christ. And he took the bread and the fish and he looked up to heaven, he blessed it and broke it, and gave it back to them to give to the crowd. And lo and behold everyone--5000 men and their wives and their children----ate his or her fill. And there were leftovers to boot. When Jesus’ disciples gave Jesus their all, he took it, multiplied it, and met people’s needs. How? I don’t know. He just did.

And he does.

Leonard Sweet tells the story of a United Methodist Church in Durban, South Africa. There were 500 children in the township attending the two classrooms. Half would go in the morning--from 8 a.m. to noon. The rest from 1 to 4 p.m. They were poor children--most were without shoes, most came to school hungry. Then one Sunday Pastor Alan Kimber told his congregation, "You give them something to eat." And there was silence--at least until one man finally held up a $5 bill and offered it. Then another gave $10. And that morning, in a small, largely poor church, with no resources of which to speak, a handful of disciples gave Jesus what they had. With the $2,000 raised that day children began to be fed. God multiplied because his disciples were willing to give everything over this his gracious hand.

When we tell Jesus we don’t have enough to feed the world’s hungers, we don’t have the right words to speak, the knowledge to act, or enough time or energy to make a difference, Jesus says, "Bring what you have to me. Give it to me--no matter how great or small. Give it all to me. Give me your strong mind and weak body, your limited time and boundless energy. Bring to me your vocation and your avocation, your treasures and your toys. Give everything you have for the sake of the kingdom, and leave it to me."

What Jesus promises is that if we are willing to give all that we have and are to him, he is willing to bless it, give it back to us, multiplied and ready to use to meet the needs of others. Amen.