I don’t know about you, but I find there are days where it’s hard to slow down, where I can’t “turn it off,” for lack of better terms. You know, you’ve been working hard for a good chunk of the day, and even if you wanted to take a break or needed a break, you have all these other things you really should be doing, so instead of taking that much needed break, you just plow right on to the next thing that “needs” to be done, because you’re secretly afraid if you take a break you’re never going to get back to work again, and being done for the day at this moment would feel like you’re really wasting time?
I think a lot of us have fallen into that trap at one point of our lives or another. And a part of this trap is the fact that we all know how valuable our time is. We only have so much of it. But how we value our time is often just a little bit backwards. Because we value our time in ways that even scripture tells us is wrong. We value our time because we think we can use our time – use our actions – to prove our worth. We fear that if we stop, if we aren’t productive in some way, then we are somehow less valuable. I think the disciples were at risk of falling into this trap, and this is why as our gospel text begins today, Jesus tells his disciples, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest for a while.” Because the disciples have seen how valuable their work is, they are at risk of basing their salvation on this work. They are at risk of placing the work as the thing that matters rather than the wholeness that God has called them to. And this isn’t to say that the work that the disciples were doing – healing the sick, casting out demons, sharing the good news of the coming kingdom of God – isn’t important. But the work isn’t what brings salvation. Only God does that. And connecting to how God is revealing salvation is the real struggle in today’s text.
It’s a struggle because Jesus’ intention for the disciples to rest – so that they can reconnect to God and to each other – never really comes to bear in what we read. Because apparently in the first century, sailing in a straight line on the Sea of Galilee is slower than walking around the lake on foot. Now, I’m not gonna throw shade on the disciples’ seaworthiness, but I am. Because earlier this summer we encountered Jesus in the boat with his disciples when they get caught in a storm at sea, which they probably should have anticipated before setting sail, and the portion of chapter six that we skip in our gospel today also has them struggling against the wind on the sea before they arrive in Gennesaret. After a while, a pattern begins to form. But regardless, as the disciples seek to find rest, the mission field catches up to them. The work catches up to them. But the work isn’t the point. Where the work points is the point.
When Jesus and the disciples come on shore at the beginning of our gospel today, Jesus encounters the people who have rushed to meet them there, and we are told, “he had compassion for them, because they were like a sheep without a shepherd.” They didn’t have direction. They didn’t know where to turn. And so Jesus sits down to teach them. And maybe, just maybe, his disciples get a small breather while Jesus begins to teach them. But one of the things that is glossed over in the missing verses of today’s text is the feeding of the five thousand. And that text reveals, again, what barriers keep us from better understanding the salvation that is freely given to us all. Because while Jesus is teaching them, they begin to get hungry. And what happens when people are hungry? They can’t keep listening and learning. They can’t deeply learn, because their bodies are telling them to focus on something else. Later on, as we return to the text that we read today, we are told that people from all over the surrounding area rush to bring people to Jesus so that he might heal them. But the healing isn’t just about physical healing, it’s about how the healing then offers restoration to these people. When they are less likely to wonder how they are going to make it another day or another week, they are more able to look beyond themselves.
It may not seem like it, but our gospel today is indeed a gospel about transformation. It’s transformation for people who are desperate for another day who suddenly can look at a bigger picture. It’s transformation for disciples who begin to think that the work may be the point when instead the work is revealing the deeper point of salvation. By being given an invitation to rest, they are reminded that their production is not the point. And perhaps today is a day of transformation for ourselves as well. Maybe every Sunday is indeed a day that is about transformation.
Because for many of us, today is a day where we are invited to come away from the worries of our work week, from our need to produce, to be present in the presence of God – to be able to do different work, the work of being. Of loving. Of knowing that we are loved and valued. And that value isn’t tied to what we produce. We don’t have to always have something to show for existing in this world, and we don’t have to perform great works to prove that we are worthy of God’s love. The transforming work that is present in the work of the disciples – in the work of Jesus himself – is showing that the amazing deeds we do – works of love and grace – occur not to prove our worthiness but occur as a sign of what God has already done. The work we do – the work the disciples did as the journeyed throughout the villages – reveals the salvation of God already present. The work that Jesus does today breaks down barriers so that salvation that is already present can be experienced more fully. That is why the hungry are fed. That is why the lame walk and the sick are healed. So that they might see more clearly God’s saving work meant for them, and in their joy reveal it to others.
How is it that you find God’s promises today? Are you able to see that you are loved, and God’s salvation is for you, regardless of what you have done to “earn” these things? Beloved, know today that you are enough. Just as you are. And much like the disciples, knowing that they are enough transforms them and the people around them to do amazing things for the sake of the gospel. May you all see that God’s transforming love is for you. And may you open yourselves up to experiencing the transformation that comes with the unfailing love of God that breaks down barriers and builds up hearts and minds to reveal to the world the miracle that is the goodness of God.