Matthew 14:13–21
Continuing the Matthew 13 Series
Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
From Describing to Doing
For several Sundays we have been hearing Jesus describe the kingdom of heaven through parables. He has shown us the generous sower, the wheat and weeds growing together, the mustard seed that becomes a tree, the leaven that transforms the whole dough, the treasure and the pearl of great price. Last week, and the weeks before, we were in the thirteenth chapter of Matthew, listening as Jesus described the kingdom.
Today we move into the fourteenth chapter, and there is a clear progression. Jesus moves from *describing* the kingdom of heaven to *doing* the kingdom of heaven. He is not only a teacher or a visionary who helps us see what is possible. He is the one who makes the impossible present. He does what he describes.
Matthew tells us that when Jesus heard of the death of his cousin, John the Baptist, he withdrew by boat to a lonely place. The crowds followed him. When he stepped ashore, he saw the very opposite of what he had hoped for—quiet, solitude, silence. Yet the Gospel says he was moved not by frustration, but by compassion. Jesus took his own sorrow, the grief over John and all that was happening, and turned it outward into love for those in need. He healed their sick. And when the disciples urged him to send the hungry crowds away, Jesus said, “They need not go away.”
What We Do with Our Sorrow
This is a fascinating way for the miracle to begin. It reveals something important about our own sufferings, difficulties, and struggles. Our struggles can become an opportunity either to turn inward or to turn outward.
I had a friend who used to tell me, especially in his later years, that he had a very hard life growing up. Because of that, he wanted to make sure that young people today also had a tough life—so they would know what he knew, experience what he experienced, and learn to appreciate even small things the way he did.
I had another friend who also had a difficult childhood. Because of that, he wanted the younger generation *not* to have it as hard. He did not want anyone else to suffer the way he had suffered. So he did everything he could to enact mercy and kindness.
The same sorrow, the same struggle, the same difficulty in life can produce two completely different outcomes in relation to other people. It can harden the heart and say, “I had it tough, so you should have it tough too.” Or it can soften the heart and say, “I had it hard—perhaps too hard. I do not want anyone else to go through what I went through.”
Two Cities, Two Ways
We always have a choice. As St. Augustine put it, we choose which city we live in. I am not speaking of St. Catharines or Hamilton. I am speaking of the City of God or the city of man—the reality shaped by human fear, self-protection, and limited vision, or the reality God creates and offers us.
Jesus brings about another way of living. He not only talks about the kingdom of heaven; he shows it. The world often tells us, “You are grieving—you need time alone, you need space, you need to be away from people.” Jesus shows us something different. In his grief he does not send people away. His grief is turned outward to bring healing and feeding to those in need. Two different approaches. Two different cities. Two different ways of living.
The Kingdom Multiplied
Jesus not only gives us the vision of the kingdom; he multiplies it. The kingdom is multiplied when people recognize what Jesus is able to accomplish through his compassion. He takes the little that is brought to him, blesses it, breaks it, and distributes it, and everyone is satisfied.
This is deeply Eucharistic language. At the Last Supper Jesus will use the same actions: he takes, he blesses, he breaks, he gives—so that all may be satisfied. It is the same pattern we see in his passion and death on the cross. His own body is taken, broken, and offered. And everyone who truly accepts the gift of his life walks away changed and satisfied—like the centurion who looks at the crucified Jesus and says, “Truly this man was the Son of God,” or the thief who asks to be remembered in paradise.
Anyone who notices what Jesus is doing—through his example, his actions, and his words—and truly accepts it, walks away with a new way of life, a new way of seeing reality, and a new approach even to the most difficult moments.
A New Reality
Jesus is able to change the *reality* of our life without necessarily changing all the details of our circumstances. So often people say, “My life would improve if only these things happened,” and then they list what they think they need—better housing, more friends, more money, more comfort. But Jesus shows a pathway in which none of those external things need to change first. What needs to change is the way we bring the little we have to him and trust that he can do something amazing with it.
We are invited to participate in this activity of God in the world—a God who shows compassion, love, and salvation even in the most broken and hungry places. Faith is not an optional add-on to life. It is not something we attend to after we have fixed everything else. It is essential. Only God can feed the multitudes and truly satisfy those who are in need—and that is everyone.
I pray that the gift of God’s kingdom, multiplied through the humility and compassion of Jesus, may first be experienced by us, and then through us by those around us.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Fr. Wojtek Kuzma