Text: Matthew 14:13-21
A good friend of mine sent me an article a couple weeks ago, the title: “Make America Great Again is Now a CCLI licensed Christian worship song.” The song was debuted at First Baptist Church in Dallas as part of their “Let’s Celebrate Freedom Rally,” at which then candidate, now President Trump was the keynote speaker.
Your Pastor Aaron asked me to preach a couple weeks ago, to which I gladly agreed….and then he told me, “Your topic is to preach on the intersection between God and country, and by the way, I’m going to be vacation.” Let’s just say he owes me, big time. This is one of those hills no preacher wants to die on, a topic preachers usually avoid altogether.
And perhaps you are all feeling the same way. You’re tired of the left-leaning, right-leaning rants about how certain stances and policies are consistent with Christian faith or not, and judging you for whether you are Christian or not. You came here this morning to get away from that stuff. Church is supposed to be a refuge, a safe-haven, an escape from such things, right?
Perhaps, rather than to define what the intersection between God and country is this morning, it would be more relevant to acknowledge just how exhausting living in our country today is. The things that I think most of us care about, don’t seem to be getting better. People are less considerate. They are less empathetic towards others. We hear things other people say and at times perhaps even hear ourselves saying things that we never imagined saying to another human being. What’s worse, it even seems like collectively, we actually enjoy living this way. Being inconsiderate, less empathetic, hateful, and violent is something people actually seem to be proud of. Maybe we feel compelled to say something, a Christian response. But even that is met with so much scrutiny and criticism these days that it would just be better to not put ourselves out there anymore. Exhausted, we just don’t want to deal with any of it.
If our gospel story this morning is any indication, Jesus probably wouldn’t blame you.
Our text opens with Jesus withdrawing to a deserted place. But what we don’t hear this morning is why: the opening verses of chapter 14 is the story of John the Baptist getting his head chopped off by King Herod, fulfilling a party request made by his wife and daughter for “John’s head on a platter.” It’s a sobering reminder of the world that Jesus lives in….an inconsiderate, less empathetic, hateful, and violent one. So Jesus withdraws…perhaps because he himself doesn’t want to deal with it.
But we hear how the story ends: Jesus feeds over 5,000 people. He does something and I suppose, so should we. Just exactly what is the intersection then between God and country for us? What is the Christian response? Or, the question so many leaders in our Synod seem to be preoccupied with, “What is the Lutheran response to life in our country today?”
I was about 15 years old, and after chores were done one night, dad asked me to head over to one of our neighbor’s farms a few miles down the road to help them with their chores. Of course, I resisted….we had just put in a hard day of field work ourselves and all I wanted to do is head into town to hang out with some of my friends. After a nice little “discussion,” my dad just sighed and said, “Can you just go over there? They could use the help right now.” So I jumped in our truck and headed over to help our neighbors finish their chores. The thing is, I knew the real reason I was going over there: about two weeks before, the family had lost their father and husband. The wife and her daughters were doing all that they could to get the chores done and keep things afloat and hold onto the farm until while they sorted things out. I knew that…but to be honest, it didn’t matter much to me.
What is the intersection between God and country? The more I read this morning’s gospel story, the less I believe it has anything to do with us, or what we do. At best, our responses range from complete avoidance and escapism to an obligation and burden we try to pass off as altruistic. I think the intersection even goes beyond what God simply does for us, because we are famous for wasting a lot of time trying to decide what action is godly and pure, which never really gets us anywhere. The miracle itself isn’t so much that Jesus was able to feed over 5,000 people with so little resources. The miracle and good news is WHY Jesus does that. “Jesus saw a great crowd; and he had compassion on them and cured their sick…..and he said, ‘They need not go away….bring the fish and loaves here to me….and he gave them to the disciples and the crowds.”
Intersection is about a God who comes into our nation and to us out of complete and utter compassion. The miracle is that God continues to look at us with compassion. In my current ministry, I spend a lot of time with service men and women who come back from deployments, having seen and done things connected to the reality of combat and war. I spend time with men and women who have spent so much time away from their spouses and families because of these deployments, the damage done….to the point that recovery and repair is impossible. These are people who don’t want to have their situation fixed, because there’s no miracle to be worked. They’re exhausted, and have exhausted every measure…..and what they wonder is, are they worthy of, and will anyone – will God – look on them with compassion.
Perhaps it is the same for you as well. We wonder if God still has compassion for us, for this nation, or if we’re truly left to fend for ourselves. The good news this morning is that Christ looks on us with compassion, and a compassion so deep that God continues to intersect our lives.
In a nation starving for empathy, impoverished by hatred, indifference, violence, and disregard towards anyone and anything that doesn’t serve us or the factions that demand our allegiance, God intersects with our world in Christ out of compassion to feed us with the gift of compassion. Whether it’s an act of feeding more than 5,000 people, or feeding a small group of people around the Communion Table, or in other acts we see in our everyday lives, God’s compassion is the real miracle that sustains us, changes us, and gives us hope. Amen.