Sermon for Pentecost 13: "On Christ the Solid Rock"

 + 13^th Sunday after Pentecost – August 27^th, 2023 +

Series A: Isaiah 51:1-6; Romans 11:33-12:8; Matthew 16:13—20

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

 

When we were looking for our first home back in Southern California there was one house we crossed off the list as soon as we walked in the front door. The hallway was sloped. Like a carnival fun house. The foundation was cracked and crumbling. It doesn’t take an engineer to tell you that the foundation makes the house. 

 

Today’s Gospel reading does something similar for us as we hear and read it. What’s true in home-building is even more true in matters of faith and confession. The foundation makes the house. And the foundation of today’s Gospel reading rests firmly on Christ…who he is and what he has done to build, preserve, and save you, his church, his people. Jesus’ promises to build his church, to give authority to forgive sin, and his victory over the gates of death and hell in his own death and resurrection.

 

Jesus starts with a question. “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” 

 

This is one of Jesus’ favorite titles for himself. It’s messianic, and yet reveals his humility and his humanity, and his passion and suffering. The Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.

 

Not surprisingly, 1st century answers to this question abounded. “Some say John the Baptist, others say Elijah, and others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” Others thought he would be a priestly or kingly figure. A warrior. The Son of David. That he would come and kick out the Romans and establish an earthly kingdom. They were partly right. Jesus is a priest, a prophet, a king, a warrior, and the Son of David but all of those in connection to his cross. His kingdom is not of this world.

 

Answering this question right is like having a good foundation under your house. And sadly, many were building on sinking sand of their opinions instead of the firm foundation of Jesus’ word.

 

It’s no different today. When you ask, “Who is Jesus” you’ll get all kinds of answers. Jesus is a moral example. An obedient Jew. A miracle worker. An exorcist. A new Moses. A wise or good teacher. Some even treat Jesus more like a mascot a mystical friend, or even their homeboy. The list could go on. There is no end to people making Jesus in their own image, or laying down ideas of Jesus like a foundation. But remember, only a good foundation makes a good house. 

 

Jesus goes on. “But who do you say that I am?” The answer to that question, again, is similar to laying a foundation. This time for his disciples. For us. Simon Peter replied, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” 

 

Peter answers correctly, a fully loaded phrase, packed with God’s promises – a firm foundation to be sure. The Christ is New Testament language for the Old Testament word Messiah. The Anointed One. Priests. Kings. Prophets. They were all anointed in the Old Testament. Set aside for a holy purpose. 

 

Peter’s confession reveals that the prophet who is like Moses, only greater, has finally come, not in the burning bush but in the flesh and blood of Jesus. The true King of Israel and Son of David who will rule on an eternal throne is here. The great high priest to whom Aaron pointed has come as the atoning sacrifice for the sins of the world. It all happens in Jesus, the Christ. Son of Man and Son of the Living God. 

 

The Son of the Living God is an important phrase in this confession as well. Jesus is not a dead god like all the other so-called gods and goddesses made by the hands of men. Not the gods of our own imagination either. The living God. The God who came down in human flesh as true God and true man to save you by dying and rising again from the dead.

 

Peter makes this confession, and yet he is not alone. The disciples are there, he speaks for them. But more…Peter’s answer is our answer too. He is the Christ, the Son of the living God. This is what we confess in the Creeds of the church as well. You could even say that Peter confesses the first apostles’ creed when he says, ““you are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” 

 

To confess the Christian faith as Peter does here, as we do in our creeds, and in our baptized life is a lot like having a good foundation to a house. A good, faithful, biblical, true creed and confession of who Christ is and what he is done makes for a good and faithful house of the Lord. When we build our faith on anything or anyone except the Christ, the Son of the Living God crucified and risen for you, we build it on something like jello, molded after our sinful nature, and always an unsure foundation. 

 

The opposite of confession is denial. An anti-confession of sorts. In our sin, we’re quite good at this. We deny Christ both with our lips and with our lives. With our lives by our attempts to justify ourselves, to be Christ for ourselves, to live as though God did not matter and as if all that mattered was Me. We deny Christ when we lay as our foundation anything or anyone other than the word and work of Jesus, the Christ, the Son of the Living God.

 

That’s why it’s important to remember that while Peter said these words, made a good confession, this wasn’t something that came from him. Confession of who Jesus is, is like faith in Jesus – it’s a gift.

 

“To confess” means to say back what you have heard, to say the same thing. Jesus reminded Peter that he didn’t come to this conclusion by his own reason, strength, or intuition. “Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven.” 

 

We say the same thing in our catechism when we confess, “I believe that I cannot by my own reason or strength believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to Him.” Peter’s confession, like our confessions of Christ, is by grace. The working of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in our hearts, ears, minds, and mouths. 

 

Jesus continues his blessing… I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”

 

The keys are Jesus’ authority given to bind and set free from sin. Jesus wasn’t making Peter the Pope. Jesus was making Peter, the confessing disciple, an apostle, sent with the authority of Jesus Himself, whose confessing mouth would bind the devil and free men from bondage to sin and death.

 

Jesus also promises to preserve his church, to build it on the sure foundation of his death and resurrection, and by his death and resurrection to storm the very gates of death and hell. In Jesus’ death, the gates of death will not stand against him. For he comes in the power of his life, death, and resurrection. His is a victory that destroys death. Death is utterly, completely defeated in Jesus dying and rising for you. On the rock of Golgotha and out of the rock of his tomb, Jesus has taken down the gates of Hades. Ripped them off their hinges. Trampled them underfoot. Death is dead. Done. Sin, death, and the devil hold no more power. Not over Jesus. And not over you. This is what Peter’s confession means. It is the confession of Jesus who overcomes death. And in Jesus, you overcome death as well. No matter how bad it looks in the world right now. 

 

On this solid rock, on this confession, on Christ’s death and resurrection, you his church are built.

On the firm foundation of Christ’s dying and rising Christ builds his church.

On the rock of Mt. Calvary where Jesus died and on the stone he rolled away, Christ builds his church, giving you a firm foundation. 

 

For it is not we who are to build, but God. No human being builds the church, but Christ alone. We are to confess, while God builds. We are to preach, while God builds. We are to pray to God, while God builds. Christ alone is your Lord; by his grace alone you live, just as you are. In His church, Christ is building. 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon for Pentecost 12: "Canaanites and Crumbs"

 + 12^th Sunday after Pentecost – August 20^th, 2023 +

Series A: Isaiah 56:1, 6-8; Romans 11:1-2, 13-15, 28-32; Matthew 15:21-28

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

 

We don’t usually think much of crumbs. Sweep them off the table. Off the floor. Off our hands. They’re small. Insignificant. Nothing. 

 

Today’s Gospel reading reminds us that even the crumbs matter in the kingdom of God. Matthew’s account of the Canaanite woman is even sandwiched between the feeding of the five thousand the feeding of the four thousand, where, you guessed it, they picked up 12 basket full of leftover crumbs.

 

Seems that crumbs matter in God’s kingdom. They certainly did for the Canaanite woman who clung to the crumbs of Jesus’ promises and refused to let go. A little crumb of God’s grace was more than enough for her.

 

Today’s Gospel reading is a good reminder that God works the opposite of what we would expect: Jesus the Jewish rabbi goes to Gentile – outsider – territory. He praises a Canaanite woman for her faith because she realizes she has no right to claim God’s favor, and yet leans on his mercy anyway.

 

Today’s Gospel reading is a reminder that God looks after and calls to himself not those who are big and mighty and proud and think they have no need of a Savior, but the weak, lowly, small…crumbs. What we consider lowly and small and something to be swept away, our Lord comes to save and redeem in his own unexpected way of dying in weakness on the cross to save us by his mercy. 

 

That’s the same word, this Canaanite woman uses when she calls on Jesus. “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David...”

Strange words coming from the lips of a Canaanite, considered an outsider and an idolater. “Son of David” is Israelite talk. This is the language of the faithful expecting the promised Messiah. She has no right to address Jesus this way. 

That’s exactly how it is for us as well. We have no right to claim any favor from God, and yet…He gives us the right to be called sons of God. That’s the promise of Holy Baptism. We were gentiles, idolaters, and enemies of God. But then God throws us into the water, washes us, and gives us a new identity. We’re transformed and given the faith of Abraham. Adopted as children of the promise. Made heirs with Christ. And clothed with Christ. And then in boldness and confidence we approach God as Father as dear children through Christ the Son.

 

The Canaanite woman prays the same way. “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David; my daughter is severely oppressed by a demon.”

 

Her daughter was enslaved. Imprisoned. Sin does the same within us too. Holds us hostage, captive. We are oppressed and enslaved. Sin is more than a flesh wound; it’s deadly and specific: As Jesus warned the Pharisees and disciples earlier in chapter 15, we’re defiled by the evil thoughts, murder, hatred in our hearts, adultery, lust, desire, sexual immorality, theft, false witness, and slander that come out of our sinful heart.

 

And what’s Jesus’ reaction to this Canaanite woman’s prayer? Silence. Perhaps that’s why the disciples ask him to do something. “Give her what she wants and send her away, Lord.” We’re not told why he’s silent. Jesus’ silence, however, is not his absence. Look what his silence reveals.

Jesus’ silence reveals something in the woman. She is persistent. The disciples try to send her away, but she won’t go. She’s clinging to the crumbs of God’s promises. Jesus eventually breaks his silence: I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. 

 

Still this Canaanite woman did not give up. Like Jacob she wrestles with God and will not let Jesus go without a blessing. She will not take Jesus’ silence for an answer. She comes closer. She falls at his feet. Touches her face to the dirt. She is humble. She worships Jesus as a lowly beggar before the great king. She speaks out of her brokenness. Lord, help me. 

 

We pray the same way. Lord, I am a sinner. I am a beggar. Apart from you I have no good thing. Lord, help me. Clinging to Christ like a starving dog clings to crumbs.

Jesus answered, “It is not right to take the children's bread and throw it to the dogs.” There’s no way to soften these words. It was no nicer to call someone a dog in the first century than it is today. What’s even more shocking is that the woman agrees. 

 

Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters' table. Yes, Lord. I am a dog. Yes, Lord. I am a beggar. Yes, Lord; I am a sinner. She sees her own unworthiness. And yet she sees in Jesus someone greater than her sin. She sees in Christ the one who cares even for the lowly, the crumbs of the world.

 

“Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table!” (Matthew 15:27). Yes, Lord, even Rahab, the Canaanite, the prostitute, the Gentile, turned to the Lord for mercy and found it. Isn’t that Canaanite, Rahab, your own great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother? Yes, Lord, dogs don’t deserve to sit at the table with Abraham’s sons. But wasn’t Naaman, the Syrian, cleansed with water and healed, so others would know that a prophet was living in Israel? Didn’t Isaiah the prophet say that your house would be a house of prayer for all people?

Yes, Lord. You’re right about me. I am a poor miserable, mangy, mutt of a sinner. And yet He cleanses you from all sin. Your Baptism is a divine flee bath, washing away all your sin. 

 

This Canaanite woman catches Christ with his own word, and he is happy to be caught (Luther). She holds onto his words knowing that God’s business is feeding his people. She does not want the children’s bread. She wants food straight from the Master of the Table. 

I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of the Lord than dwell in the tents of the wicked. Better to be a dog in the house of the Lord than even the mightiest of kings or queens on earth. 

 

The Canaanite woman was content to receive a crumb. One crumb of God’s grace is more than enough for us. One crumb of Jesus’ mercy is more than enough to end the starvation of our sin and send the demons running. But it is not enough for Jesus. 

 

Jesus gives more than a crumb to this Canaanite woman and to you. Jesus gives you himself. Jesus became the outsider and the dog for you. Jesus became sin and death for you. Jesus died for idolaters and blasphemers and sinners like us and that Canaanite woman. Jesus died in humility in order to raise you up and seat you at his table, not as dogs under the table or even as children, but as his beloved bride. Where we would settle for a crumb, Christ gives a feast. Jesus feeds you with the best food, the bread of life, his very own body. And the choicest wine: his blood shed for you.

 

“O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire.” And her daughter was healed instantly. By faith in Christ this woman is no longer a dog. She is a member of new Israel, Christ’s holy bride. Not a dog. Not a crumb. A child of God in his kingdom of mercy and grace.

 

And so are you. Jesus makes the same promise to you. You are no longer dogs or Gentiles. The stain of our idolatry is wiped clean by his blood. The defilement of our lusting, coveting, gossiping, sinful hearts is cleansed. Jesus died for you. And in Jesus, you are no longer dogs or even crumbs, you are his holy people, sons and daughters in the kingdom of his mercy and grace. 

 

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

 

 

 

 

Sermon for Pentecost 11: "From Drowning to Rescue"

 +10^th Sunday after Pentecost – August 13^th, 2023 +

Series A: Job 38:4-18; Romans 10:5-17; Matthew 14:22-33

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

Grace, Mercy, and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

 

One of the things that good stories have in common is movement. Not just from beginning to end, but from a conflict to a resolution, a problem to a solution, from disaster to rescue. The recent Super Mario movie comes to mind. The movie begins with Bowser breathing fire and disaster on the entire video game universe; it ends with Mario defeating bowser and saving the mushroom kingdom.

 

The same is true even in true stories like we find in Matthew 14 this morning. There’s movement in Matthew’s account of Jesus talking on water. It moves from chaos (storm, wind, waves, darkness), to calm. It moves from confusion and fear to a faithful confession: “Truly you are the Son of God!” It moves from separation – Jesus is away from his disciples on the hillside; they’re in the boat struggling – to nearness; Jesus comes to them in the storm. It moves from doubt/despair to worship and trust in Jesus. There’s also the same movement we find throughout Scripture…from drowning to rescue, death to life…all by the gracious hands of Jesus the Savior.

 

With that pattern in mind, let’s hear Matthew’s account again. Matthew’s account begins with separation. The disciples are in a boat, on the sea, in the dark, struggling against the wind and the waves – meanwhile, Jesus, who sent them off in the boat, is on the hillside praying.

 

And in the fourth watch of the night Jesus came to them, walking on the sea. But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, and said, “It is a ghost!” and they cried out in fear. 

 

Matthew tells us the disciples’ response. They are troubled. They shout a kind of anti-confession, “It’s a ghost.” And they cry out in fear. 

 

Chaos. Confusion. Fear. That’s where we find the disciples when Jesus shows up walking on the water. Jesus wastes no time.  Immediately, Matthew says, Jesus speaks in order to move his disciples and all who hear, from trouble to consolation; from a false confession to a true one – which comes finally at the end of the account; and from fear to a deeper faith in him.

 

immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying, “Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid.”

 

Jesus’ words match the disciples’ responses perfectly. They were troubled. Jesus replies, Take heart/be of courage. They cry out “it’s a ghost” – Jesus replies with the divine name. I AM. The I AM of the burning bush is now I AM in human flesh walking on the water. The disciples cry out in fear, and Jesus answers, “Do not be afraid.”

 

The movement here is clear and comforting. The one who controls the wind and waves, who masters the sea in their presence, is also their Master. Jesus brings his disciples and all of us who hear his word, into a deeper knowledge of him as Savior. They have no need, just as we have no need to be afraid. Jesus’ word and presence is enough. The story could end there, only it doesn’t.

Peter speaks up, “ “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” ²⁹ Jesus said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water and came to Jesus. ³⁰ But when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, “Lord, save me.” 

Matthew has moved this story again. From the chaos, confusion, and fear, now there is doubt, despair, and from Peter’s perspective, death by drowning. The problem for Peter is that he took his eyes and ears off of Jesus. The same is true for us, the more we take our eyes and ears off of Jesus crucified and risen, off of his saving word and promise, the more that doubt, despair, and fear of death overwhelm us as they did Peter.

 

We single out Thomas as doubting Thomas, but what about Peter here. He doubts not once, but twice. First when our Lord identified himself to his disciples, Peter replies, “Lord, if it is you.” And then again when Peter got out of the boat and walked on water he saw the wind and waves and cried out in fear, “Lord, save me.” The first time he doubted whether it was really Jesus or not, and the second time he doubted whether Jesus was able to do what he said he would do.

 

Our doubts – and let’s be honest, we all have them - may look or sound different from Peter’s. But really, they are the same. At the root of our doubt is that we do not trust that Jesus is who he says he is, and that we do not trust that Jesus will do what he says. We wonder, if Jesus is powerful over the sea, will he save us when we call upon him? What if we fail to believe, or struggle to believe our Lord’s promises? What if I am a little-faith like Peter? What if my doubts and worries and cares seem bigger than that mustard seed. Will the Lord save me, or let me sink and give me what I deserve?

 

Matthew’s account of Jesus in the storm answers all those questions. Jesus can save. Jesus will save all who have even only a little faith in him – even if we, at times, doubt. 

 

Remember, the movement of this whole narrative. From chaos to calm; from confusion and fear to confession and faith; from separation to nearness; from doubt and drowning to reassurance and rescue.

Jesus immediately reached out his hand and took hold of him, saying to him, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?”

 

Yes, there is a gentle rebuke…”O little faith one,” Jesus literally says. But Jesus does not despise a little faith. He does not snuff out a smoldering wick , or crush a bruised reed, or leave soaking wet Peter, or you or me, to drown in our doubt and death. Jesus does not abandon you. He does not let you go. He does not move away from, but towards. Jesus draws near.

 

Immediately. Not after a while. Not when Peter learned his lesson. Not when Peter perfectly understood. Not when Peter did anything. While Peter is splashing and sputtering and drowning, Jesus immediately reaches out his hand and grabs Peter, and puts him back in the boat. Then the wind stopped. The waves calmed. And the disciples worshiped. Confessed. Truly you are the Son of God! That he is. 

 

The Son of God who comes to us in our doubt, despair, and death. Jesus does the same for you too. Jesus reaches out his hand, the same hand he grabbed Peter with out of the drink, is the hand he reached out with on the cross as he suffered and bled and died for all our sins, for all our times of doubt, for all our lack of trust. All of that is in the hands of Jesus crucified for you.

 

And then from the cross, our Lord still reaches out, through your Baptism, where he saves you by drowning your sin, washing you with new life by water and the Spirit; where he moves you from the chaos of sin to the peace of sins forgiven, from drowning in doubt and despair to rescue in his arms of mercy; from death to life in Him. 

 

Take heart; do not be afraid. For Like Peter, you are forever, and always, held in the gracious hands of Jesus, I AM, your redeemer, rescuer, and savior. 

 

The peace of God which surpasses all understanding will guard and keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus to life everlasting. Amen. 

Sermon for Pentecost 10: "Compassion and Action"

 + 10th Sunday after Pentecost – August 6th, 2023 +

Series A: Isaiah 55:1-5; Romans 9:1-13; Matthew 14:13-21

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

 

If you’ve ever seen a Pierce County fire engine, look closely, and you’ll notice their slogan painted on the side: “Where Compassion and Action Meet.” When a fire breaks out they don’t arrive on the scene just to sit back and watch your neighbor’s house burn and say, “Well, I sure do feel sorry for those folks…hope someone comes and helps them out.” No. they turn on the hose and fight the fire. 

 

Something similar, although far greater, is happening in today’s Gospel reading. In Jesus’ life and ministry, in his teaching and healing, in his dying and rising, Jesus is where God’s compassion and action meet.

 

Our reading begins with Jesus having just heard the tragic news of his cousin, John the Baptist’s death at the birthday party for King Herod. He attempts to withdraw to a desolate place. To grieve. To pray. To sit in silence in communion with the Father. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns. When he went ashore he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them and healed their sick.

 

Matthew reveals not only Jesus’ outward actions, but his inner motivation. How he cares for those he meets. Splanchnidzomai is the word behind the phrase “he had compassion.” Jesus has a gut-wrenching, feel-it-in-your stomach compassion for the broken and feeble, the helpless, hopeless, and hungry. And for you. For Jesus, compassion is more than a feeling. For Jesus, compassion and action are one in the same. Jesus has compassion on the crowds and heals them. Later he feeds them. He goes on to bleed, suffer, and die for them and for you. In Jesus, God’s compassion and action are on full display to feed, provide, rescue and save. In Jesus, compassion and action meet.

 

The disciples, however, didn’t understand this yet. Now when it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a desolate place, and the day is now over; send the crowds away to go into the villages and buy food for themselves.” 

 

The disciples’ request is understandable, to a point. After all, it was evening. They were tired. Hungry. And no doubt asking themselves the same question this crowd and Israel long ago had asked. “Is this Jesus really the one God has sent to save us? How is he going to provide for us out here in the middle of nowhere?” 

 

If we’re honest with ourselves, we probably ask some version of this question on a weekly basis. Will God  provide what we need? How will we pay the bills, raise a family afford retirement, pay for school, pay for the doctor visits, the home-care? Will God take care of my bodily needs, my daily bread? The problem for us, is the same as it was for the disciples. In their lack, in their need, in their emptiness, they still weren’t looking to Jesus as the Master who would provide what was needed.

 

The disciples’ words are understandable, the problem was, though, that they were still not looking to Jesus the Master to provide what was needed. Before this parable reveals Jesus’ compassion and provision, it also reveals our brokenness and need. We are empty and need Christ to fill us with his good gifts of body and soul. We lack and are hungry; the very fact that we have needs is a daily reminder that we do not live on our own but by God’s grace, and that left on our own we are physically and spiritually dead.

 

In the face of all our questions and concerns and needs, Matthew’s answer is clear. Yes, Jesus will provide. When we experience physical and spiritual need, when we wonder if God will really provide and show compassion, look to his cross. Look to where he laid down his life, shed his blood, and died in your place for you. At its root, that’s what the word compassion means, to suffer with. That is exactly what our Lord Jesus did for you.

 

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? 

 

He has. He does. He will. All for you in Jesus, where God’s compassion and action meet, to save you. And not just in the biggest need of his life and death and resurrection. To be sure, he has that covered for you who are covered in the blood of Jesus. But also in the daily, little things of life. 

 

Jesus gives you the daily bread of his word and provides salvation, but also daily bread for our bodily needs. His compassion and action are for you, soul and body. Spiritual and earthly gifts. It was that way for the crowds in Matthew 14 as well. Jesus told his disciples, “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.”  They said to him, “We have only five loaves here and two fish.”  And he said, “Bring them here to me.” 

 

You can imagine the disciples looking down at the bread and fish. Looking out at the crowd. Looking back at the bread and fish. “That’s it? That’s not enough.” We come to our Lord the same way. Empty, broken, and in need. Like the disciples, even our best works are meager. All I’ve got is Jesus’ Word and the blood of Jesus on the cross. And yet, Jesus will take our meager selves and uses it all the same. Stuttering Moses. Denying Peter. Doubting Thomas. Fill in our names too. Five loaves. Two fish. Jesus loves taking the ordinary and filling it with his extraordinary grace.

 

Notice how Matthew slowly unveils Jesus’ miracle here. It began with 5 loaves and 2 fish. And yet… All ate. And not just a little bit. All were satisfied. And not just satisfied. 12 baskets leftover. Doggy bags for everyone. A superabundance.

 

Jesus is where God’s compassion and action meet. Here on this Galilean hillside in Matthew 14, but also in an upper room in Matthew 26. Jesus’ words and actions here in the feeding of 5,ooo are echoed later on in the Lord’s Supper. On the night when he was betrayed, Jesus took bread, blessed it, broke it, gave it to his disciples and said. Take, eat. This is my body given for you.

 

From the Galilean hillsides to the hills of Milton, Jesus pours out his compassion upon you. In abundance. In Jesus you are no longer broken and feeble, helpless, hopeless, and hungry. In Jesus’ death you have life. In Jesus’ compassion you have comfort. In Jesus’ feeding of the five thousand you have his promise that he will provide for you in body and soul. Today, that’s exactly what Jesus does. He feeds you and heals you his body and blood, a feast of compassion, and abundant grace. And then, when the Supper is over, he sends you out into the world filled with his compassion.

 

After all, in Jesus, God’s compassion and action meet for you…and in you as well. You, his beloved, baptized people are also where his compassion and action meet. It’s true, we cannot take 5 loaves and 2 fish and feeds thousands, but we can love as Christ first loved us. We can show his compassion in our actions. We can in our words and deeds, in our daily vocations be the place where Christ’s compassion and action meet for the sake of those around us. For that is how we live each and every day, in the compassion and care of Christ crucified and risen. 

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.