Sunday, August 2, 2026
First Congregational Church of Cheshire
© the Rev. Dr. James Campbell
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.
In the church of my childhood, Bible memorization was a very big deal. And we started young. We used to have contests and prizes for the children who memorized the most and the quickest. I won’t regale you with all the verses of Scripture I could recite by heart, but let’s just say… I used to win a lot.
And I still remember the first verse I ever committed to memory. I was just a little tiny kid, so the verse was tiny as well. John 11:35 simply reads: “Jesus wept.” That was easy for a tyke like me to remember - just two words. But it has taken me a lifetime to wrap my mind around such a profound statement.
Because if you take the Incarnation at all seriously; if somehow God was indeed in Christ, then that means that God stood outside that tomb and wept over a dead man named Lazarus. And that means that God stands beside us in the cemeteries and hospitals and empty rooms of our lives, wrapping us in everlasting arms, and weeping with us over all those things that break our hearts.
A weeping God. Sadly, that is not a popular image of Divine right now, in this age of uber-masculine Christian Nationalism. Instead, there is plenty of talk about God as judge and warrior, full of vengeance and anger - a Clint Eastwood kind of God! But a weeping God? Well, that doesn’t serve the dominant narrative. Because tears are a sign of weakness, or so we have been told. And yet, Jesus wept.
Today’s passage opens with these words: “Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself…”. So, what had Jesus heard that caused such an emotional reaction? Well, it was the awful news that John the Baptist had been unjustly executed by the state.
You will remember that John was Jesus’s cousin. They had been born within months of one other. Their mothers were close. Likely they played together as boys. Eventually, they both went into the ministry: first John and then Jesus. John baptized Jesus. Maybe John even taught Jesus a few things before Jesus became the star attraction. So, they were tight.
But now John had been beheaded by the pompous and ruthless Herod. And this news had shaken Jesus to his very core. And so, he did what many of us do when life breaks our hearts - he withdrew and sought solitude. He got into a boat and rowed all the way across the Sea of Galilee just so that he could be by himself.
But as we all know, life goes on, even when we are having a terrible day. And our obligations never take a break. And there are folks who depend on us - like those multitudes who depended upon Jesus. They had no way of knowing what kind of day he was actually having. They had their own problems to deal with. They were sick and poor and hungry and looking for meaning and purpose. And they had seen, with their own eyes, what Jesus could do. And they wanted Jesus to do that for them too.
And so, when he suddenly disappeared across the lake, they pursued him. They walked around the long perimeter of that lake until they found him.
Now, this would really have irritated me. You see, I tend to have strong borders around certain parts of my life. And my time away when I need it is one of those parts. But the Gospel writer says that when Jesus saw the crowd, despite his own sadness and fear, he had compassion on them.
Compassion. What a marvelous word – and one that seems to have almost completely disappeared from our common lexicon. Compassion literally means to “to suffer with.” But in the Greek of the New Testament, the word takes on a stronger meaning. It’s more visceral. It means that when Jesus saw the suffering of the people, it “ripped his guts out.”
Now maybe the disciples also felt compassion. But they likewise knew that these people would be hungry after such a long walk. And they knew that they didn’t have anything to give them. Perhaps that’s why they said: “Send them away, Lord, so that they can go get something to eat.” Maybe that was an expression of their compassion. But Jesus replied: “They don’t need to go anywhere. You give them something to eat.” And here again the Greek is stronger. What Jesus actually said was: “You, yourselves, you give them something to eat.”
Well, you know the rest of the story. It’s the only miracle of Jesus that is retold in all four Gospels. There were only five loaves and two fish. And Jesus took the bread and blessed and broke it. And when he did, somehow there was enough for everyone to have all they wanted.
Scholars believe that the early church retold this story every time they celebrated the Lord’s Supper because of the strong Eucharistic parallels. Just like at the Last Supper, Jesus took the bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to the disciples. All he had was five loaves and two fish. And on this day, all we have are pieces of cracker and a common cup. But now, as then, when Jesus blesses it, it is enough.
Now that, in and of itself, is a sermon. And I could stop here. Some of you might even be glad if I did. But there are two more wonderful truths found in this beloved tale that deserve at least an honorable mention.
The first is this: Bible editors often label this story as “Jesus feeds the 5000” or “Jesus feeds the multitude.” But actually, Jesus didn’t feed anyone that day. What Jesus did was to bless and break the bread. Then, he gave it to his disciples for them to give to the people. The disciples were the ones who looked those hungry people in the face, and smiled at them, and exchanged a greeting, and touched their hands. It was the disciples who made the compassion of Jesus a reality for others.
And that basic arrangement has never changed. We receive from the gracious hand of God, and then we are sent into the world to give it away, face-to-face, hand-to-hand, one piece of bread at a time.
The second wonderful truth is this: in the practice of compassion, Jesus himself was moved from sadness to gladness.
Remember how this story started. Jesus was having a terrible day. He had every right to sequester himself and to insist upon being left alone. But in the face of human need, Jesus answered the call. And when that compassion welled up in him, it lifted him in the process.
Now maybe it was only a temporary relief. Maybe later that night, all the grief and fear came flooding back. That is so often how it works. But for one brief shining moment, Jesus was lifted up out of his gloom by being compassionate. And if the practice of compassion can lift Jesus, surely it can lift us too.
We are not called to be superhuman. We are not called to deny our pain. Jesus didn’t. We can feel whatever we feel. We can cry and mourn and doubt. It’s just that we can’t live a steady diet of that. So, God gives us the bread of compassion – a kind of Wonder Bread, that feeds the one who receives it while it feeds the one who gives it. And there is always enough.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
First Congregational Church of Cheshire
© the Rev. Dr. James Campbell
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.
In the church of my childhood, Bible memorization was a very big deal. And we started young. We used to have contests and prizes for the children who memorized the most and the quickest. I won’t regale you with all the verses of Scripture I could recite by heart, but let’s just say… I used to win a lot.
And I still remember the first verse I ever committed to memory. I was just a little tiny kid, so the verse was tiny as well. John 11:35 simply reads: “Jesus wept.” That was easy for a tyke like me to remember - just two words. But it has taken me a lifetime to wrap my mind around such a profound statement.
Because if you take the Incarnation at all seriously; if somehow God was indeed in Christ, then that means that God stood outside that tomb and wept over a dead man named Lazarus. And that means that God stands beside us in the cemeteries and hospitals and empty rooms of our lives, wrapping us in everlasting arms, and weeping with us over all those things that break our hearts.
A weeping God. Sadly, that is not a popular image of Divine right now, in this age of uber-masculine Christian Nationalism. Instead, there is plenty of talk about God as judge and warrior, full of vengeance and anger - a Clint Eastwood kind of God! But a weeping God? Well, that doesn’t serve the dominant narrative. Because tears are a sign of weakness, or so we have been told. And yet, Jesus wept.
Today’s passage opens with these words: “Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself…”. So, what had Jesus heard that caused such an emotional reaction? Well, it was the awful news that John the Baptist had been unjustly executed by the state.
You will remember that John was Jesus’s cousin. They had been born within months of one other. Their mothers were close. Likely they played together as boys. Eventually, they both went into the ministry: first John and then Jesus. John baptized Jesus. Maybe John even taught Jesus a few things before Jesus became the star attraction. So, they were tight.
But now John had been beheaded by the pompous and ruthless Herod. And this news had shaken Jesus to his very core. And so, he did what many of us do when life breaks our hearts - he withdrew and sought solitude. He got into a boat and rowed all the way across the Sea of Galilee just so that he could be by himself.
But as we all know, life goes on, even when we are having a terrible day. And our obligations never take a break. And there are folks who depend on us - like those multitudes who depended upon Jesus. They had no way of knowing what kind of day he was actually having. They had their own problems to deal with. They were sick and poor and hungry and looking for meaning and purpose. And they had seen, with their own eyes, what Jesus could do. And they wanted Jesus to do that for them too.
And so, when he suddenly disappeared across the lake, they pursued him. They walked around the long perimeter of that lake until they found him.
Now, this would really have irritated me. You see, I tend to have strong borders around certain parts of my life. And my time away when I need it is one of those parts. But the Gospel writer says that when Jesus saw the crowd, despite his own sadness and fear, he had compassion on them.
Compassion. What a marvelous word – and one that seems to have almost completely disappeared from our common lexicon. Compassion literally means to “to suffer with.” But in the Greek of the New Testament, the word takes on a stronger meaning. It’s more visceral. It means that when Jesus saw the suffering of the people, it “ripped his guts out.”
Now maybe the disciples also felt compassion. But they likewise knew that these people would be hungry after such a long walk. And they knew that they didn’t have anything to give them. Perhaps that’s why they said: “Send them away, Lord, so that they can go get something to eat.” Maybe that was an expression of their compassion. But Jesus replied: “They don’t need to go anywhere. You give them something to eat.” And here again the Greek is stronger. What Jesus actually said was: “You, yourselves, you give them something to eat.”
Well, you know the rest of the story. It’s the only miracle of Jesus that is retold in all four Gospels. There were only five loaves and two fish. And Jesus took the bread and blessed and broke it. And when he did, somehow there was enough for everyone to have all they wanted.
Scholars believe that the early church retold this story every time they celebrated the Lord’s Supper because of the strong Eucharistic parallels. Just like at the Last Supper, Jesus took the bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to the disciples. All he had was five loaves and two fish. And on this day, all we have are pieces of cracker and a common cup. But now, as then, when Jesus blesses it, it is enough.
Now that, in and of itself, is a sermon. And I could stop here. Some of you might even be glad if I did. But there are two more wonderful truths found in this beloved tale that deserve at least an honorable mention.
The first is this: Bible editors often label this story as “Jesus feeds the 5000” or “Jesus feeds the multitude.” But actually, Jesus didn’t feed anyone that day. What Jesus did was to bless and break the bread. Then, he gave it to his disciples for them to give to the people. The disciples were the ones who looked those hungry people in the face, and smiled at them, and exchanged a greeting, and touched their hands. It was the disciples who made the compassion of Jesus a reality for others.
And that basic arrangement has never changed. We receive from the gracious hand of God, and then we are sent into the world to give it away, face-to-face, hand-to-hand, one piece of bread at a time.
The second wonderful truth is this: in the practice of compassion, Jesus himself was moved from sadness to gladness.
Remember how this story started. Jesus was having a terrible day. He had every right to sequester himself and to insist upon being left alone. But in the face of human need, Jesus answered the call. And when that compassion welled up in him, it lifted him in the process.
Now maybe it was only a temporary relief. Maybe later that night, all the grief and fear came flooding back. That is so often how it works. But for one brief shining moment, Jesus was lifted up out of his gloom by being compassionate. And if the practice of compassion can lift Jesus, surely it can lift us too.
We are not called to be superhuman. We are not called to deny our pain. Jesus didn’t. We can feel whatever we feel. We can cry and mourn and doubt. It’s just that we can’t live a steady diet of that. So, God gives us the bread of compassion – a kind of Wonder Bread, that feeds the one who receives it while it feeds the one who gives it. And there is always enough.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
RSS Feed