More Than Enough Series

This week, more than any other week in America, is a week of food! All across the land, home cooks have already begun the preparation of a menu, the procurement of ingredients, the planning of where and how all foods shall be consumed on the ONE day we collectively set apart for gratitude…which typically ends in a food coma on a couch somewhere with a football game or holiday movie playing the background. It’s quite poetic really!

But I suspect one thing is true for all of us in some form or fashion. Thanksgiving and all its traditions are centered around food and family and friends. Granted it will look different this year. There may not be a family gathering, or it might be much much smaller. Or it might be virtual – with meals being shared on multiple screens. Or your ‘family’ may now be the neighbors or friends you’ve hunkered down with these last few weeks. There might not be AS much food consumed, but I’ll venture a guess that whatever your plans are for Thursday, there will be some familiar, comfort food involved for you and for those you love – even if you are not together.

Food upon food upon food. It’s central to our celebrations. And whatever your holiday looks like this week, I wish comfort and good food for you in abundance.

But our story today begins with a different situation around food! There were a whole lot of people, and they didn’t have enough of it!

As we travel back to the “Room Where It Happened,” we hope to stand in closer proximity to some of the miracles of Jesus. What was it like for those who saw these things happen? Do the miracles still mean anything for us now?

But today, in this story, Jesus wasn’t in a room. Matthew tells us that he had taken a boat to get to a deserted place. His intent was to be alone – but he wasn’t so lucky that day.

Now, anytime somebody climbs in a boat and sails away to try to be alone – it begs the question, “why?” What has just happened that would send Jesus out to sea and to another shore by himself?

If we back up a few verses in Matthew 14, we find out. And it isn’t good. Jesus had just received word that John the Baptist has died. John the Baptist was a forerunner, a prophet, the one who had done most of the work to prepare people for Jesus’ entry onto the scene. So there was certainly a professional and communal connection there. But John was also family. His mom, Elizabeth was cousin to Jesus’ mother, Mary. They were pregnant at the same time and even stayed together before Jesus was born.

The Gospel of Luke tells us that John leaped within his mother’s womb when Mary arrived, bearing Jesus in her own. The two men are bound by blood and by spirit. And now John is dead.

It was likely surprising to hear that he had died, but certainly shocking to hear how. I’ll spare you the gruesome details in case there are kids in the room – you can read the account for yourself starting at the beginning of Matthew 14. But let’s just say that King Herod had a birthday party. It was an abundant, excessive, overindulgent affair, as I suspect most kings’ parties were. Things got out of hand, promises were made after too much wine, frivolous demands had to be met – and at the end of the night John the Baptist was the collateral damage.

Jesus heard the news. And he needed to be alone. It feels like one of those moments where we can fully appreciate Jesus’ humanity, and he fully felt the weight of ours. I suspect he was rattled. In shock. Deeply sad. Maybe even angry. What a tragic end for his bold, young, faithful cousin and friend. Grief had come running at him headlong, and now he needed to get away. Maybe to clear his head. Maybe to cry out to God. Maybe to put some physical distance between himself and Herod the madman who just murdered his cousin. So he took a boat to a deserted place.

He sits quietly, for a few merciful moments of solitude – his head in his hands murmuring his prayers to God - before he hears the voices in the distance. He looks up to see the rise of the hill morph and take the form of a mass of people making their way across the grassy field toward him. When they see him looking at them, the movement stops. He is alone. They are suddenly unsure if they should be here.

He notices among their number a woman with a twisted foot, unable to walk with ease. He sees a father carrying a boy who is sweating with fever. He catches a glimpse of a man being led by his friends, his own eyesight too poor to find the way himself.