Matthew
14:13-21
Now
when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by
himself. 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 for
them and cured their sick. When it was evening, the disciples came to him and
said, “This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away
so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.” Jesus
said to them, “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.” They
replied, “We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish.” And he said,
“Bring them here to me.” Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass.
Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed
and broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave
them to the crowds. And all ate and were filled; and they took up what was
left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full. And those who ate were
about five thousand men, besides women and children.
Let the words of my
mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you, O Lord, my rock and
my redeemer. Amen.
I’d been planning this outing all day.
While working for a study abroad
program in Thailand, I found myself pulling 16 hr days without a second
thought, devoting all my time to the needs and wants of this group of American
students. I loved the work, and I loved the students.
But this night was my night. My coworkers and I were going to a bar that was
only accessible by taxi, meaning our students wouldn’t be there. I was dreaming
of sitting in a room with no one who needed me and having a beer. Nothing
crazy- just a break.
Just then, one of the students came to
the door of our office. I went to answer it cheerfully because I knew in 2 hrs
I was gone. She was smiling, and said “Hey, I hear y’all are going to Sunset
bar tonight. We’re all going to go too! Y’all want to split a cab?”
My dream died, suddenly and completely.
The space left by my dream was quickly filled with anger—it wasn’t until that
moment that I realized how badly I needed a break, and how much I had been
looking forward to getting away. How burned out I was.
In our Gospel story today, we learn
that a crowd unexpectedly showed up because they needed Jesus. Jesus “had
compassion for them and cured their sick.” Despite the fact that they didn’t
make an appointment and probably didn’t ask whether Jesus had already had a
busy week at work, they showed up, and he loved them.
But when reading this excerpt from
Matthew, too often we go immediately to Jesus’ compassion and then to the
miracle of loaves and fishes which follows. However, we learn in the first
verse that “Now when Jesus heard this,
he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself.”
What had Jesus just heard? If we look
back in in the chapter, we learn that Jesus had just learned of the death of
John the Baptist. His mentor, relative, and loved one had just been cruelly beheaded
by the government.
So he went to be by himself. This piece
of the story is just as important for us today as the miracle that follows it. It
tells us that, in order for miracles to happen, we need to know when we need to
be by ourselves.
We need to take a break—we need to
experience the healing of solitude with our God in order to feed the people
that follow us.
One must wonder if the miracle that
follows would have been able to happen if Jesus had not gone to be alone
earlier. What if this story displays more of a cause and effect than merely a
progression of events? In other words, because Jesus took time for himself when
he needed it, he was then able to feed thousands of people.
When my students came to me and needed
me…I didn’t respond in compassion. I saw them, and saw the crowd and their
need, and became angry at it. I became angry because I needed. I needed time
away, and had not taken it.
The irony, of course, is that I was
unable to be present because I had been so present, pouring myself out for them
but without replenishing my own spirit. Needless to say, no miracles followed
our encounter.
But because Jesus withdrew to be by
himself, to grieve, we are able to read verse 19 where it says, “Taking the
five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the
loaves, and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the
crowds.”
Miracles can be fruit of our solitude.
But how we spend our time alone is just
as important as making the time for it. After all, one can take time off from
work and spend it tending to household chores, going to the grocery store, or
any number of things that are really still work.
Jesus didn’t leave the people and go
grocery shopping. (Obviously).
The difficult truth is that, sometimes
in our ministries and work lives, we avoid taking a break because we actually
don’t know what to do with it. We fear the silence and the feeling of
meaninglessness that can accompany time without tasks.
Beyond the to-do lists and calls, there
is silence.
There is a vastness of time before us, and
behind us. We are left with only ourselves and God. This is always a vulnerable
place.
But in the silence, there are two paths
we can take. The path of loneliness, which is at times necessary, is also a
path of pain. Perhaps in the desert, Jesus had to take this path for a time in
order to name and let go of the pain resulting from the death of someone he
loved.
The second path is the path of solitude, the
path of peace and healing. Externally, both paths can look the same. They can
both look like sitting on bench by oneself. It is the inner disposition, our
inner posture, that determines the path we take.
Solitude feels like an ocean with its waves
quietly and gently lapping across your feet and legs, the warmth of the sun on
your skin and the light sea breeze in your hair. Loneliness is the brutal hit
of a wave that was much bigger than you thought it was, the pull of the
undertow as it tumbles you through water, sand, and salt.
Both are necessary for an ocean to be an ocean.
And both paths are necessary for our spiritual journey. The key is being aware
of how much time we spend on each. Have we fallen in love with the feeling of
being pummeled by the waves? Do we think we deserve the peace of God upon us?
Our inner journey matters because it ultimately
becomes our outer journey as well.
Henri Nouwen, a priest and prolific
author, writes “Loneliness makes us cling to others in desperation; solitude
allows us to respect others in their uniqueness and create community.”
What Jesus does in the Gospel narrative
is spend time with the pain and sadness that comes with loving and letting go.
What Jesus does next in the Gospel narrative is feed thousands by the grace of
God. Solitude, the path of peace, transformed the world in an event so
miraculous it is one of the few present in all 4 Gospels.
As Christians, we are called to follow
the example of Jesus and strive to live according to his ways. So if Jesus took
time for his own spiritual life, why shouldn’t we?
Interestingly, times of crisis often
help us see through our own “busyness.” Jesus loses someone he loves, and he
withdraws to a deserted place. But it shouldn’t always take a tragedy to remind
us that we are able to call out to God with our deepest yearnings and sighs.
Our spiritual lives must be vibrant and
authentic if we are to perform miracles in the name of Christ. If we are to
have compassion on the crowd, we must first withdraw into ourselves for a time
of healing with God, our Rock and Redeemer.
One must wonder if the reason miracles are so
hard to find nowadays has more to do with the state of our spiritual lives than
it does with God’s presence in our world.
Will
you pray with me?
Lord, you sent us your
Son to teach us how to live the lives you desire for us. Give us the strength
to follow, the humbleness to trust, and the love to compel us towards you. In
our times of silence, enable us to be healed according to our needs. Be with
us, and be ours as we are yours. We ask this in the name of your Son, our
Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
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