Sermon for the Seventh Sunday after Trinity
“I have compassion on the multitude, because they have now been with me
three days, and have nothing to eat”
Seven loaves of bread and a few small fishes. Compassion is dietary light, it might seem, perhaps a Gwyneth Paltrow special. Yet, the story of the feeding of the multitude in the wilderness compels our attention. It is actually part of a kind of New Testament conundrum: there is the story of the feeding of the five thousand and the feeding of the four thousand almost juxtaposed, side by side. There are a host of intriguing differences which suggest some sort of larger design and purpose rather than incompetent mediocrity and forgetfulness, as if confused about a single event and how to tell it.
But without getting into the intricacies of comparing the accounts of Mark and Matthew in relation to Luke and John about these double miracles with differing figures – five thousand, four thousand, seven loafs, five loafs, seven baskets left over, twelve baskets left over, to mention a few – what does this story really signify?
I think it is captured in Mark’s succinct phrase. “I have compassion on the multitude,” Jesus says. In a way, these remarkable stories are all about the compassion of Christ, the Son of God, in whom we learn the love of God for our wounded and broken humanity, even more, for our humanity in its disarray, our humanity lost and hungry in the wilderness.



