The Sermon I Didn't Hear

This past Sunday in church, the gospel reading was about the feeding of the 5000. With a large crowd and little food, Jesus somehow feeds them all with more to spare. I've heard this story since childhood, it works well in Sunday School - I can even remember coloring a picture of Jesus and the crowd and the boy with the basket containing fish and bread. I think it was my kindergarten or first grade class.

On Sunday, our preacher zeroed in on the crowd and the limited food and the miracle. His message was one I'd heard a few times before: Everything is possible with God's love. I half-listened but my mind was still stuck on the beginning of the reading. And on my Mother.

The reading was the account from Matthew. Now, maybe I've only heard the story from other gospels or maybe I just didn't pay attention to the beginning in the past, always jumping ahead to the miracle part. This time, I thought about Jesus and how he must have felt upon hearing the news of the beheading of John the Baptist. How he fled to a remote and solitary place. I get that. I picture a saddened, angry Jesus wanting everyone to leave him alone so he could have some time to grieve and remember his friend.

But the crowd found him. They needed him. And, in his time of sorrow, he comforted them and healed their sick. He could have looked out on the crowd with anger or judgement. Why should their sick be saved when one such as John was allowed to die? No, like always, he cared for them, healed them, and fed them.

And this leads me back to my Mother. When my Father died unexpectedly, Mom found herself suddenly the sole caregiver for six kids that desperately needed her. The pain and shock of losing Dad must have been overwhelming, and I'm sure she would have liked to find a remote place where she could hide and grieve. But she couldn't hide. We were there, needing her. Just like the crowd that found Jesus. We needed comfort, and healing, and to be fed.

I'm no pastor so I can't say I know for sure what any of this means, but I wonder if maybe the path to overcoming grief doesn't lie in retreat. Maybe comforting and healing others is a way we can heal ourselves.

Or maybe it's all about feeding over 5000 with five loaves of bread and two fish - that's pretty cool, too.