For What Are You Tired? - Matthew 14

This sermon continues our series Finding Jesus in Real Lives

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Transcript

Sermons from 

Mission Hills UCC

San Diego, California

Rev. Dr. David Bahr

david.bahr@missionhillsucc.org

July 26, 2026

“For What Are You Tired?”

Matthew 14: 13-16 – Common English Bible

Jesus told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like someone who planted good seed in his field. 25 While people were sleeping, an enemy came and planted weeds among the wheat and went away. 26 When the stalks sprouted and bore grain, then the weeds also appeared.

27 “The servants of the landowner came and said to him, ‘Master, didn’t you plant good seed in your field? Then how is it that it has weeds?’

28 “‘An enemy has done this,’ he answered.

“The servants said to him, ‘Do you want us to go and gather them?’

29 “But the landowner said, ‘No, because if you gather the weeds, you’ll pull up the wheat along with them. 30 Let both grow side by side until the harvest. And at harvesttime I’ll say to the harvesters, “First gather the weeds and tie them together in bundles to be burned. But bring the wheat into my barn.”’”

Chapter 14 is the half-way mark of Matthew’s 28-chapter gospel.  Up to this point, much of what has happened is Jesus gathering and teaching followers, consistently revealing how the Kingdom of God is more compassionate than religious people expected, more inclusive than social boundaries allowed, and more powerful when lived with love rather than with force.  Jesus keeps teaching:  Mercy is the point, not religion.  

As Jesus presents his contrast to the world, woven throughout the chapters there have been skirmishes with the authorities.  But chapter 14 begins with a collision.

John the Baptist is in trouble.  King Herod has taken his brother’s wife Herodias as his own.  John told him plainly, "You can’t do that.  It’s not lawful for you to have her."  

What happens when powerful men are told, “you can’t have that?”  Herod wanted John killed, but he was afraid of the crowds because they believed John was a prophet.  So instead, Herod had John arrested and thrown into prison.  Problem solved.

But on Herod’s birthday, he threw himself a big banquet.  His wife’s daughter danced for him and his guests.  Herod was so pleased by the girl’s performance that, right there in front of everyone, he made an oath to give her whatever she wanted.

She went to her mother.  "What should I ask for?"  Herodias was ready.  “Ask him to give you John the Baptist's head on a platter."  Herodias had her own grudge against John for publicly condemning their marriage.

So the girl returned to the banquet and made the request her own.  Herod was troubled by it, but he had promised in front of all his guests.  He gave the order and the soldiers carried it out.  

John’s disciples came and took what remained of his body and buried him.  Then they went and told Jesus.  He got into a boat and went away by himself to a deserted place to grieve.  

But he wasn’t alone for even a few minutes.  The crowds hear where he was going and follow him around the lake.  When Jesus steps out of the boat, there they are.  Not a few people.  Thousands of people.  Waiting for him.

Remember, his friend has just been murdered.  He simply needs time to be alone.  But instead of being bothered by them, Jesus looks at them with compassion.  He stays and moves among them, healing all who were sick.  

He keeps going until evening when his disciples tell him, "It's getting late.  Send the crowds away so they can go into the villages and buy something to eat."  It was a perfectly reasonable suggestion.  But Jesus says, "They don't need to go away.  You feed them."  

They bring him all they have:  five loaves of bread and two fish.  Jesus looks up to heaven, blesses them, breaks the bread, and they begin passing it around from one person to another.  From one family to another.  Bread and fish moving through thousands of hands until everyone has eaten.  5,000 men plus women and children.

Matthew has just shown us two banquets side by side.  

At the first, Herod is surrounded by invited guests, concerned about what they think of him.  At the second, Jesus is surrounded by thousands of ordinary people, concerned that all of them have something to eat.

Two tables.  Two kinds of power.  One clings to what it has and will destroy anyone who threatens it.  The other takes whatever we have, blesses it, breaks it, shares it, and somehow makes it enough.  More than enough.

One kingdom takes life.  The other gives life.  

Then chapter 14 continues and once again, Jesus tries to get away to be by himself.  He sends the disciples back to the other side of the lake while he stays behind to finally do what grieving people need to do.  To cry out, to ask God “why?”  To pray.  To breathe.  Whatever you’ve done when someone you love has been taken away, that’s what he did.  

And when he’s ready, he rejoins the disciples in their boat far from shore.  Battered by waves, the wind against them.   You probably know this story well enough to know that the disciples are scared out of their mind at the sight of him walking on water.  Jesus tells them, “Take courage.  It’s just me.”  

Then impetuous Peter asks to join him.  Jesus says, “Sure.  Come on in.”  Peter gets out of the boat, actually takes a few steps on the stormy sea, but then loses his nerve and begins to sink.  Jesus reaches out to catch him.  Together they climb into the boat, and the storm calms.  Amazed, the disciples say to him, “Truly, you are God’s son.”

In the morning they reach the other side.  And, oh my God, people recognize him and word starts spreading.  And here they come again, bringing everyone who needs healing.  “Just let us touch the hem of your garment.”  All who touch him are healed.    

That’s chapter 14.  And what a chapter.  Jesus grieving the violent death of someone he loves.  Repeatedly seeking a quiet place.  Crowds that keep following him.  Healing and teaching and feeding day after day.  Just listening to it all makes me feel exhausted.  

Herod's kingdom is exhausting too.  Everything has to be protected.  His power.  His image.  His control.  He's afraid of John's truth.  Afraid of the crowd.  Afraid of looking weak.  Herodias consumed by resentment and revenge. 

Whereas I can only imagine Jesus is exhausted because he keeps giving, people like Herod are exhausting.  One kind of tired comes from giving ourselves in love to others.  The other comes from living amid fear, cruelty, and anger.  Those are not the same kinds of tired.  

It's that Herod-kind-of-exhaustion that's pulling on us today.  Exhausted by the latest threat, the latest person or group singled out for blame.  

First and foremost, the people targeted are exhausted.  But those who watch people treated as though their lives don’t matter are worn out too.  It’s exhausting seeing compassion dismissed as weakness and cruelty celebrated as strength.

It’s exhausting having to pay attention all the time because we can’t simply tune it all out.  Real people are being hurt.  How can we not worry?  Or get angry.  And so, we speak up and show up.  

But there’s always another enemy, another threat, another person presented that doesn’t belong.  And if we aren't careful, Herod’s kingdom will consume all our energy.  Outrage that could have become solidarity.

The other kind of exhaustion comes from spending ourselves for others.  Yet, the goal is not Christianized burnout.  Jesus keeps responding to need, but he also keeps seeking the quiet places.  To withdraw.  To pray.  To keep seeking God in the middle of the demands.  And then return to people who need him.  

Dorothy Day knew something about this.  In 1933, she and Peter Maurin founded the Catholic Worker movement.  It was in the midst of the Depression.  They opened houses of hospitality where people who were hungry could eat and people who had nowhere to live could sleep.

Day often returned to a line from Dostoevsky about how love in action is very different from love in dreams.  Because love in action means somebody has to cook.  Somebody has to wash the dishes.  Somebody has to answer the door when they're already tired.  Somebody difficult might need you when you have nothing left to give.

She fed people.  But she also protested.  Fascism.  War.  McCarthyism.  She wrote relentlessly about government, economic injustice, militarism, and the failures of the church.  She was arrested. Her first arrest came at 20 and her last at 75.

But Day didn’t try to sustain that life on willpower and determination alone.  She regularly gathered in community to worship.  She prayed and read Scripture.  She made retreats.  Her spiritual life wasn't an escape from the needs of the world.  It was how she kept returning to them.

In that sense, she lived something of the rhythm we see in Jesus. Feed the crowd.  Step away.  Come back for more hurting people.

Dorothy Day spent decades living that rhythm.  She opposed what was wrong, but she put enormous energy into creating what was right.

Jesus' kingdom is not restful in the conventional sense. Compassion, justice, ministry, caregiving, and love can wear us out.  But not all exhaustion is the same.  We cannot choose whether this world will sometimes leave us exhausted, angry, grieving, or afraid.  But we can choose what we do with them.  

Matthew shows us two banquets side by side.  Two tables.  Two kinds of power.  One kingdom that takes life.  The other that gives it.  

We're all going to get tired.  The question is:  What is worth getting tired for?

Pray with me: God, when we are tired, lead us.  When anger and fear threaten to consume us, guide us.  Turn us again and again toward compassion and love.  Show us the way that gives life.  Amen.