Sermon for August 2, 2026
Pentecost 10A
Matthew 14:13-21
Rev. Karl-John N. Stone
I’m back from sabbatical—and it’s good to be with all of you again! I had lots of wonderful adventures, which the gift of time really made possible, and I’m sure you’ll be hearing more about them over time—from going on an ancestral pilgrimage through Sweden and Norway, to hiking 64 miles in the Catskill Mountains of upstate New York, to seeing a musical and a play on Broadway in New York City, and visiting the “Field of Dreams” movie location in Iowa. Along the way, I visited friends and relatives, and even met some new people. I concluded my sabbatical in what turned out to be the perfect way, spending five days on a personal retreat at Holy Wisdom Monastery in Madison.
Even though I was there on my own, I never felt like I was all alone. I ate lunch and dinner each day with other people who were there for their own reasons. I prayed Morning Prayer, Noon Prayer, and Evening Prayer in the Benedictine tradition with the sisters of the monastery, as well as the wider community of men and women who come to pray there each day. And as I wandered the 150 acres of prairie and the 40 acres of woodlands each morning and evening, of course God was walking alongside me, nudging me to listen for how Jesus was speaking through the Holy Spirit. In between these building blocks of my time there, I tried some of the spiritual practices that the retreat coordinator suggested, and I also took time for rest and relaxation.
As I went about these daily routines, the work that God had given me to do slowly became revealed—and I experienced the Benedictine motto “Prayer and Work” taking shape. I found the presence of God revealed all around me, as I gave myself over to this ancient way to structure time and prayer; then I went out to do whatever work God had prepared for me; and then I returned to join others in prayer and community once again. It showed me an example of how all of life can become a prayer.
There is a well-known Benedictine sister and writer named Joan Chittister who has a good description of this way of life: “Time was to be spent in prayer, in sacred reading, in work, and in community participation. In other words, it was to be spent on listening to the Word, on study, on making life better for others, and on community building. It was public as well as private; it was private as well as public. It was balanced. No one thing consumed the monastic’s life. No one thing got exaggerated out of proportion to the other dimensions of life. No one thing absorbed the human spirit to the exclusion of every other. Life was made up of many facets and only together did they form a whole.” [ https://cac.org/daily-meditations/the-benedictine-wisdom-of-ora-et-labora-2021-02-23/ ]
I think a similar pattern is happening in today’s gospel from Matthew 14, and I wouldn’t be surprised if this was part of the inspiration 1,500 years ago when St. Benedict was developing his “Prayer & Work” rhythm of life. In the case of Jesus, he wasn’t on a planned personal retreat, but he was in a time of life when he really needed some rest, reflection, and renewal. You see, he had just learned that John the Baptist had been beheaded by King Herod. John the Baptist was not only the “forerunner” who prepared the way for the Messiah; he was not only the prophet who baptized Jesus. John and Jesus were cousins. They had known each other for 30 years! As sad and tragic and unjust as John’s death was, for Jesus it was also very personal. And, like many people feel when you lose someone close to you, sometimes you just want to go off and be by yourself for a while. That’s an important part of the grief process. But it’s also not the only part—which brings us to the next part of the story.
The crowds of people in Galilee also heard about the beheading of John the Baptist. Their grief was not quite as personal as Jesus’s grief—but John was still an important person in their lives. And they wanted to offer Jesus their support in his time of loss. They also wanted to come together themselves, and support one another. This gospel story shows us how both solitude and community are necessary when we’re trying to find our way through life.
Jesus and the crowd meet each other with an attitude of compassion—and that is the building block for one of his greatest miracles. The disciples try their best to be supportive, yet at first all they are able to see is the impossibility of the task set before them. And as they look at their circumstances, they start telling Jesus about it. In this way they are offering a prayer (even though they don’t seem to realize it). “Lord—this place is deserted, we’re in the middle of nowhere. The hour is late—it’s dark and we’re tired. Send the crowds away—we don’t know what else to do with them. Let them buy food for themselves in the nearby villages—whether those villages have extra food is not our problem.”
Jesus hears their prayer and responds with generosity and grace. “We don’t need to send them away; instead let’s build a community with the people who are here. And we won’t make them scavenge food for themselves—you’re going to give them something to eat!” Jesus is opening up the “Prayer & Work” rhythm of life. Prayer is listening for the voice and nudging of Jesus, and offering him whatever little bit of your heart and soul that you might have to offer. Work is then responding to what Jesus asks, and doing whatever little bit he gives you to do. It doesn’t have to be much; it doesn’t have to feel “important”; it is simply responding to his grace with faith.
The only thing the disciples can offer is 5 loaves and 2 fish—barely enough to feed the twelve of them. Even so, they bring their loaves and fish to Jesus, like he asks. They respond in faith, trusting that Jesus can do something with this simple gift they’ve offered, even though they have no idea what that could possibly be. They simply trust that somehow, Jesus will do something with it.
And so we see how the disciples listen for Jesus (that is they pray)…then they do the work Jesus has given them to do (they give him their loaves and fish). The crowd sits down together, Jesus takes the bread, blesses it, gives it to the disciples to distribute to the crowd. There’s enough for everyone. And then having given to others, the disciples find that they have also received. “All ate and were filled, and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces”—twelve baskets, one for each of them!
In the previous chapter (Matthew 13) we hear how Jesus “could do no deed of power in his hometown” of Capernaum, because the people there would not listen to Jesus, nor offer anything to him except suspicion and criticism. But out there with the crowds, who came to meet him in a deserted area in a spirit of compassion, and with the disciples who were willing to listen and do the work Jesus had given them to do—that’s where Jesus could do a very mighty deed of power. Yet this power is very subtle. It’s not a feat of strength but an act of kindness.
Even today, with the simple gifts we offer to him in trust, Jesus gently and powerfully raises people up to new life—people just like us—right when we didn’t even realize what he was doing. Amen.