Sermon on the Feeding of the Multitude: From Describing to Doing
Sunday, August 2, 2026
For several Sundays, we have been hearing about Jesus through parables describing this phenomenon of the kingdom of heaven: the kingdom being like the generous sower, like wheat and weeds growing together, like a mustard seed that becomes a tree, like leaven that transforms the whole batch of dough, or like a hidden treasure or a pearl of great price. For weeks, we were in the 13th chapter of the Gospel of Matthew, which was all about Jesus describing the kingdom of heaven through these parables.
Today, we are invited to move to the 14th chapter, where there is a clear progression. Jesus moves from describing the kingdom of heaven to actually doing the kingdom of heaven—from describing to doing. Jesus is not just a teacher or a visionary who helps us see what is possible; Jesus is the one who makes the impossible possible. He is the one who not only describes, but enacts what he describes. He makes it present.
Matthew tells us that when Jesus heard of the death of his cousin, John the Baptist, he withdrew by boat to a lonely place. Yet the crowds followed him. When he stepped ashore, hoping for a quiet place of loneliness and silence, he saw the crowds instead—the exact opposite of what he was seeking. And yet, the Gospel tells us that Jesus was moved not by frustration, but by compassion. Jesus took his own sorrow, the grief over John the Baptist 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.”
To me, the way this miracle begins is fascinating because it reveals something important about our own sufferings, difficulties, and struggles in life. Our struggles present an opportunity: they can either cause us to turn inward or lead us to turn outward. Here, through the example of Jesus, the kingdom of heaven breaks directly into the ordinary and hungry reality of life.
The Choice of the Heart
I had a friend who used to tell me in his old age that growing up, he had a very hard, difficult life. Because of that, he wanted to make sure that young kids today also had a tough life so that they would know what he knows, experience what he experienced, and hopefully come to appreciate even small things the way he did.
Then I had another friend who told me he also had a really difficult life growing up. But because of that, he wanted the younger generation not to have it as hard, so that they wouldn’t have to suffer the way he did.
It is fascinating that the exact same sorrow, struggle, and difficulty in life can lead to two completely different outcomes in how we treat other people. Struggle can either harden our hearts towards others and make us say, “I had it tough, so you have to have it tough,” or it can soften the heart and make us say, “I had it hard—perhaps too hard—and I don’t want anyone else to go through what I went through. I will do everything I can to enact mercy and kindness because of what I experienced.”
We always have a choice as human beings. As St. Augustine famously wrote, we have a choice as to which city we live in: are we living in the City of God, or the City of Man? Are we living in a reality created by human beings, or are we living in the reality that God creates for us?
This is what Jesus brings about when he speaks of the kingdom of heaven as another option for how to live. Do we live in a world shaped and presented to us by our own creation, our own ideas, and our own efforts? Or do we look to God and ask, “What kind of existence are you envisioning for us?”
That is what Jesus shows us here—not only by talking about it, but by demonstrating it. The world tells us: “You’re grieving. You need time alone. You need space away from people.” Yet Jesus shows us that in his grief, he turns his sorrow outward to bring healing and feeding to those in need. These are two different approaches, two different kingdoms, two different cities, and two different ways we can choose to live our lives.
The Multiplication of Grace
Jesus offers us not only the vision of the kingdom—what he desires for all humanity—but he also multiplies the kingdom. The kingdom is multiplied when people recognize what Jesus is able to accomplish through his own compassion toward those in need. He takes the little that is brought to him, blesses it, breaks it, and distributes it, and everyone is satisfied.
Notice how Eucharistic this language is. At the Last Supper, Jesus uses this same approach: he takes, breaks, blesses, and gives so that everyone may be satisfied. It is the same pattern Jesus uses in his own passion and death on the cross—his body is taken, broken, and offered so that everyone who accepts his gift walks away satisfied.
Consider the centurion who sees Jesus on the cross and says, “Truly this man was the Son of God,” or the repentant thief who says, “Remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Anyone who notices what Jesus is bringing about—what he is doing through his words and actions—and truly accepts it walks away changed. They receive a new way of life, a new way of seeing reality, and a new approach even to the most difficult moments of existence.
Jesus is able to change the reality of our lives without necessarily changing our circumstances. So often people say, “My life would improve if only these specific things happened.” If you ask people what they need to improve their lives, they will often name material or situational things: a better place to live, more friends, more money, or more comforts.
Yet Jesus reveals a path where none of those external circumstances need to change in order for our inner life to be transformed. It is a new way of viewing reality: bringing the little we have to Jesus and saying, “This is all I have, but I know you can do amazing things with even the little bit I bring.”
When we do this, we participate in the activity of God in our world—a God who shows compassion, love, and salvation even in the most broken and hungry places. Faith is not an “add-on” to life or a nice optional extra where we fix the world first and then use religion as a coping tool. Faith in Christ and trust in God are essential to changing reality, because only God can truly feed the multitudes and satisfy the deep needs of every human heart.
I pray that the gift of God’s kingdom—multiplied through the humility and compassion of Jesus—may be experienced first by us, and then shared with all those around us.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.
Father Wojtek Kuzma