Matthew 15:29 - 37
Jesus left there and went along the Sea of Galilee. Then he went up on a mountainside and sat down. Great crowds came to him, bringing the lame, the blind, the crippled, the mute and many others, and laid them at his feet; and he healed them. The people were amazed when they saw the mute speaking, the crippled made well, the lame walking and the blind seeing. And they praised the God of Israel.
Jesus called his disciples to him and said, “I have compassion for these people; they have already been with me three days and have nothing to eat. I do not want to send them away hungry, or they may collapse on the way.”
His disciples answered, “Where could we get enough bread in this remote place to feed such a crowd?”
“How many loaves do you have?” Jesus asked.
“Seven,” they replied, “and a few small fish.”
He told the crowd to sit down on the ground. Then he took the seven loaves and the fish, and when he had given thanks, he broke them and gave them to the disciples, and they in turn to the people. They all ate and were satisfied. Afterward the disciples picked up seven basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over.
Advent signals a coming or an arriving. It suggests a beginning. We who live after the fact recognize Jesus as the coming One, the arriving presence of God in our world. He fully lived into both humanity and divinity. He was fully who God created and intended him to be. Years of waiting found there fullness in him.
It was as if persons for centuries had lived in a state of famine with little nourishment. The arrival of Jesus, who embodied God's fullness, suggested a time of feasting.
You might read the text in any number of ways today. I want to suggest two approaches to this reading.
First, the Gospel reading in Matthew connects to the Old Testament reading from the prophet Isaiah. Isaiah is a popular prophet in the early days of Advent for reasons I briefly mentioned in a meditation earlier this week.
In Isaiah 25:6 - 10, the prophet looked to a day when God would provide a feast of plenty for the people of the world . . . the finest wines and most generous portions of food for all those who hunger . . . God swallowing up death and wiping tears from the faces of those who live in sadness and grief. Then this line:
"Lo, this is our God; we have waited for him, that he might save us. This is the Lord; we have waited for him; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation." (Is. 25:9)
Now, read today's Matthew 15:29 - 37 passage in the context of Isaiah 25. "We have waited . . . we have waited." Waited for a feast. Waited for God's salvation. Waited for the time of gladness and rejoicing in God's healing goodness. Then the advent: Jesus arrives! The blind see, the mute speak, the disabled walk, the broken are made whole (Mt. 15:30 - 31). Further, with echoes of Isaiah, Jesus noticed the famished throng, hungry and malnourished. He fed them with such an abundance that the leftovers could be used to feed many, many more (Mt. 15:36 - 37).
Jesus enacted Isaiah's prophecy. Was this the feast Isaiah foresaw? Was this what the people had waited for?
Jesus was fond of feeding people. Physical hunger did not go unnoticed with him. The eyes of his heart were attuned to human need. His inner being was shaped in compassion. Mercy was his DNA.
It is one thing -- and can be a good thing! -- to see human need and decide to move toward it in a healing way. It is another step, though, to have our hearts shaped over time until we move toward need naturally. The work of God's Spirit within us is the work of shaping our hearts so that over time we move organically toward the least, little and deprived without being prompted.
The first approach to today's text moves among the words at the level of actual human hunger and need.
Second, I want to offer a spiritual understanding of the Matthew 15 text -- one, perhaps, of many.
My thoughts center on Jesus' words in verse 32:
“I have compassion for these people; they have already been with me three days and have nothing to eat. I do not want to send them away hungry, or they may collapse on the way.”
The term "the Way" was an early designation for followers of Christ. It suggests journey and movement, indicating that our life connected to God is not static, but dynamic and full of movement.
So at one level, Jesus was concerned for the physical well-being of the people, concerned that they had food as they followed him from city to hillside to village to countryside . . . lest they faint on the way.
But at another level, a more symbolic level, Jesus was speaking of any who followed him, concerned that they not fall aside, that they not faint from malnourishment, that they have spiritual food to sustain them through all of life's celebration points and despairing ditches.
Often in the Gospels, food and hunger are spiritual symbols for the nourishment (or lack thereof) that feeds the inner person. Hunger suggests that a person is inwardly yearning, soul-hungry, desiring the sustenance that comes only from a life-giving connection with God. "Food" is the act of living one's life in a way that fills out the destiny God has ordained for a person. (Jesus "food" was to do the will of his Father.)
I find it assuring that Jesus recognizes when my inner resources are low, that in his "compassion on the people" he sees me running on empty, and thus provides life-giving, energy-giving resources lest I faint "on the way."
I'm very glad to be sustained -- even if by the leftovers from anothers feast -- in the journey I'm called to walk.
So today I look for the resources of Jesus on my journey. What is being given to me that will sustain my inner life? What will keep my upright on the path? What connects me to life? What sets me free to live a transformed life in order to be a transforming presence in the world? I will look for this food . . . notice it . . . and take it into myself.
If there are leftovers, I will share them with my neighbor.
No comments:
Post a Comment