Trinity Church in the City of Boston
The Rev. Morgan S. Allen
July 5, 2026
XI Pentecost, Matthew 14:13-21
In you, O Lord, have we taken refuge; for the sake of your name, lead us and guide us.[i] Amen.
Today’s Gospel lesson from Matthew follows the quick-hitting wisdom sayings we recounted last Sunday, and the rejection of Jesus from his family’s synagogue at the close of Chapter 13. To conclude the latter episode, Jesus laments, “People are not without honor except in their own country and in their own house.’”[ii]
With that discouragement lingering, Chapter 14 then opens with the licentious story of Herodias’ daughter and the beheading of John the Baptist. That gruesome account concludes, “The head was brought on a platter and given to the girl, who brought it to her mother. [John’s] disciples came and took the body and buried it; then they went and told Jesus.”[iii]
Though the Lectionary omits the transitional clause that follows, the first verse of today’s appointment begins, “Now when Jesus heard this [– that is, the news about John – then], he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself …”[iv]
As we can, feel this moment in the spirit of Jesus: having poured his whole heart and bone into loving, teaching, and serving, he suffers rejection from his hometown and the murder of his cousin – the two events in immediate succession. Wounded and soul weary, Jesus seeks some time alone to make account of those experiences and to find his center once more. If one can earn any such retreat, surely Jesus’ labors have credited him with an evening of solitude. “But when the crowds heard [of his withdrawal], they followed him on foot from the towns[, and, w]hen he went ashore, he saw a great crowd,” waiting for him.[v] [Woof.]
Then follows the first miracle of generosity in this appointment, for upon seeing the people, Jesus “[has] compassion for them and cure[s] their sick.”[vi] Though he has standing to tell them all to go jump in that lake he’s just crossed, the Gospel records no mention of how he noisily sighed or cursed under his breath or texted his brothers exasperation emojis; instead, Jesus shows mercy to the crowds. Even in his physical and emotional exhaustion, Jesus embodies the ethics of Beloved Community, sets the needs of others before his own, and tends the hurting in the crowd as he can.
Matthew’s authoring community continues: “When it was evening, the disciples [come] to [Jesus] and [say], ‘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.’”[vii]
Note how the disciples wrap their self-interest in a flattering prevarication[viii] about their concern for the hoi polloi: Gosh, Lord: we sure have found ourselves in the middle of nowhere, not even a kangaroo-meat Big Mac in sight; with night falling, it’s just not safe. While there’s still time, don’t you think we should send these people away – you know, for their own good?
Jesus then performs the story’s second miracle of generosity: rather than shaming or berating his friends for either their selfishness or the insult of their blandishment, he aims them toward their better angels: “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.”[ix]
In response, the disciples again decline to follow where Jesus’ leads. So blinded by their myopia, they do not polish their protest with more dissembling. “[But w]e have nothing [but] five loaves and two fish,” they spill before they can think better of it.[x] Be clear: the disciples do not provide here an accounting of the food set aside for the masses. No, they take off the table the sardine sandwiches they packed for their own supper! The idea of sharing their provisions with hungry hangers-on does not even occur to them.
The disciples’ behavior warns that even the better-hearted and best-meaning of us do not always recognize the world’s power over the ordering of our lives. Of course, Jesus’ intimates knew hunger better than they knew privilege, and understanding themselves among those the Messiah has come to feed – among the captives Jesus has come to set free – they grant themselves a special status. Making of ultimate concern what Tillich calls “preliminary” and what Hauerwas identifies as “penultimate,” the disciples set their personal wellbeing before the wellbeing of the Body of Christ.
In this scene, Jesus reprises his familiar role as the disciples’ foil: made homeless by the neighbors who raised him and left grieving his beloved cousin’s horrific murder [to say nothing of the fear he must have felt upon hearing that dreadful news], Jesus still shows compassion. The disciples have endured no such suffering: they punish the crowds for being a hassle and for casting hungry eyes upon their picnic basket. In turn, Jesus’ challenge does not address the disciples’ underestimating their capacity to feed, for [bless their hearts] they still have not yet considered feeding anyone other than themselves! No, Jesus pushes against their failing to honor the most basic principles of Beloved Community and challenges their subtle (but significant) indulgence of retributive justice.
Our polarized politics play this shell game all the time. The minority party assails the majority party, making righteous rancor about distributive, procedural, and restorative justice. On the stump, candidates land applause lines that mingle truth, prevarication, and blandishment. Come one November or another, the electoral fortunes of the parties reverse, yet instead of leading with the higher values promised? Well, the newly powerful cannot resist. Refusing to let loose of their victimhood, they set a heavy thumb on the scales of law and government, and they lead with revenge, rather than redemption … and the whole cycle starts again.
God calls the Church to a different witness … yet instead of inheriting the graciousness of Jesus, we too often abide the self-centeredness of the disciples. No matter or situation or status, we identify ourselves as the hungry Jesus has come to feed – the captives Jesus has come to set free. Making a show of our suffering, we bring the world’s puritanical, polarized tactics to our altar … not for renewal but for retribution, anywhere we can get it.
No matter, Jesus pushes through the disciples’ selfishness and directs them to bring him their simple fare.[xi] They do as they are told, and Jesus “[invites] the crowds to sit down on the grass.”[xii] And in a purposefully Eucharistic scene, Jesus “[takes] the five loaves and the two fish, [looks] up to heaven, and [blesses the bread, breaks it], and [gives it] to the disciples.”[xiii] In turn, the disciples give the bread 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.”[xiv]
While I appreciate sleight of hand as much as any, I prefer the reading of this account that does not include conjuring bread and fish out of thin air. Instead, the disciples contributing what they brought and Jesus’ praying over the meager meal, reminds everyone of God’s great dream. And a bunch of thirsty, hungry people choose to be vulnerably generous … choose to pull out of their own pockets what they brought for themselves … choose to share what they have and enjoy a little less in order that strangers who had nothing could also have something to eat.
In this scene, we do not receive merely the story’s third miracle of generosity, we witness hundreds – thousands! – of such graces, as ordinary people choose God’s reign before self-interested ideas of deserving or socialized ideas of identity. These many miracles declare: where Beloved Community prevails, everyone has enough to eat – an abundance for all! – and not by divine magic, but by common mercy.
That we would join in such generosity, I pray;
Amen.
[i] From Psalm 31.
[ii] Matthew 13:57. Verse 58 adds, “And he did not do many deeds of power there, because of their unbelief.”
[iii] Matthew 14:11-12.
[iv] Matthew 14:13a.
[v] Matthew 14:13b-14a.
[vi] Matthew 14:14b.
[vii] Matthew 14:15.
[viii] Other words we might use to describe the disciples’ appeal to Jesus: “lying,” would be one, and “sin” another.
[ix] Matthew 14:16.
[x] Matthew 14:17.
[xi] Matthew 14:18.
[xii] Matthew 14:19.
[xiii] Ibid.
[xiv] Matthew 14:20-21.