“Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a desolate place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns. When he went ashore he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them and healed their sick.”
Matthew 14:13-14
When Jesus heard this.
When Jesus heard what?
The story begins as Jesus gets some devastating news. His cousin has just been executed. His cousin, who may have been the first to understand His ministry. His cousin, a friend from childhood. His cousin, who stood up to kings with a message of righteousness. His cousin, whose execution preempts the death that Jesus knows will soon come His way too.
When He heard this.
No wonder He wanted some space.
Alcoholics Anonymous teach to beware the times when you are H.A.L.T. Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired. My guess is that Jesus was most of, if not all of, these things.
With all this in mind, what happens next feels cruel.
The crowds followed.
I wonder how Jesus felt when He saw them?
I’d have felt irritated. Overwhelmed. Demanded of. Like my personal boundaries had been massively overstepped.
And yet Jesus feels compassion.
There’s two deep truths we can absorb from this.
The first is this. We are the crowds. When we bring Him our burdens and our woundings and our hopes, He doesn’t dismiss them. He meets our every pain and every request and every step towards Him, not with fatigue, exasperation, or indifference. He meets us with compassion. He delights in the ask. He knows that when you direct your need towards Him, you are aligning your life in exactly its intended direction. Jesus doesn’t invite us to leave Him at a polite distance, leaving Him to run the universe while we cope with our relatively minor issues ourselves. Rather, He wants us close. He wants to hear. He wants to know. He wants us to clamber up mountains to seek Him out.
Jesus doesn’t appreciate at-arms-length spirituality.
The second thing has to do with that feeling Jesus may have had when He saw those crowds. Because we so often experience what Jesus experienced.
Remember He’s grieving. Remember He’s tired. Remember He’s carrying so much. Remember He’s been hunting some space for rest and recuperation.
Do you know the feeling?
Overwhelm.
Stretched.
I don’t have enough.
But we learn from Jesus here not just as the Lord who heals us, but as the rabbi who teaches us.
Because this is a story about not enough.
Not enough energy. Not enough medical support. Not enough food.
And yet, in the economy of the Kingdom,
there is always enough.
Jesus ministers to the crowd. He heals their diseases. And He feeds the hungry.
And does it all with leftovers.
Sometimes the overwhelm really is unhealthy. You’re trying to do too much. You’re trying to do more than He is asking you to do. You’re trying to do it without Him. The result will always be anxiety and exhaustion.
But sometimes, in that very place of overwhelm, He has led you there because He desires you to learn to lean on a different set of resources.
The kind of resources that come from His strength rather than your own.
The kind of resources that see sickness and anticipate impossible healing.
The kind of resources that see a packed lunch in front of a multitude and gets ready to collect up the leftovers.
What are your places of overwhelm today? Where you do look and see not enough?
Bring this to Jesus.
The resources of heaven are at His disposal, and therefore are also at yours.
He is your rest. He is your rabbi.
And He is your always enough.
Reflect:
He wants you close.
You’re not called to do more than He’s asking of you.
You’re being taught, in the very midst of your overwhelm, to lean on a different set of resources.
Which of these three do I need to press into today?
Pray:
Lord Jesus,
Sometimes when I look at my days,
I feel stretched beyond what I can give.
I want to crawl back under my blanket
And hide from the demanding world.
It encourages me that you felt that too.
But, Lord, let not my fragile feelings lead my decisions;
But let my decisions be towards you.
When I am carrying more than you ask me to,
Help me to lay it down;
When I am filled with worry and stress,
Remind me to bring it to you;
And when I am out of resources,
Provide me heavenly strength, heavenly compassion, heavenly provision,
With leftovers.
Because if you’re walking on the water, I want to walk there with you.
Impossible,
Beyond me,
But with you.
Let that be my day
In Your Name,
Jesus my Lord
Amen.
Old Testament:
For those also reading the Old Testament this year, your additional readings are here:
Genesis 46-47 | Proverbs 3:21-35
Verse 13 caught my eye. Jesus went off in a boat on his own. No disciples. Presumably the disciples walked round, either because that was the plan or because they saw the crowds and decided to go to help out. It's pretty clear that Jesus wanted to be alone. When the day has finished he sends the disciples and then the crowds away, and prays for several hours. He was not swayed from this original purpose but was flexible enough to postpone it, having fed everyone from the loaves and fishes. The purpose of this seems to have been to nourish the crowds for their walk back, ensuring they remained safe and happy.
The miracle of the loaves and fishes and the walking on the water, take on a practical flavour rather than being a mere display of supernatural power. Ordinary, almost.