A Royal Priesthood of Love and Compassion
Introduction (1 minute)
In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy
Ghost. Amen.
Dearly beloved,
The Collect for this Sunday petitions the Lord, "the
author and giver of all good things," to "graft in our hearts the
love of thy Name" and to "nourish us with all goodness." It is a
prayer for growth—for love to be implanted, and for goodness to be
nourished within us.
Our Epistle from Hebrews gives us the practical shape that
this nourished goodness must take—a call to radical, tangible love. And our
Gospel, the feeding of the five thousand, shows us the source and
the pattern of that love.
We are to be a people who love not in word only, but in deed
and in truth.
I. A Love That Continues (3 minutes)
The writer of Hebrews begins with a simple yet profound
command: "Let brotherly love continue" (Hebrews 13:1). This is not a
suggestion for the spiritually elite—it is the foundation of the Christian
life.
In the early church, this "brotherly love"—the
Greek word is philadelphia—was the most powerful apologetic for the
faith. The pagan world looked on in astonishment and said, "See how these
Christians love one another!" It was a love so radical that believers
would sell themselves into slavery to ransom their brethren. This is the love
we are called to continue in.
But this love is not meant to be an abstract feeling—it is a
tangible reality. The writer immediately gives us two specific, actionable
commands that flow from brotherly love:
First: "Do not forget to show hospitality to
strangers" (v. 2).
In the ancient world, inns were dangerous and morally
corrupt. For traveling believers, hospitality wasn't a social nicety—it was an
act of survival. The writer urges us to welcome the stranger, the foreigner,
the one we don't know. Why? Because "by so doing some people have shown
hospitality to angels without knowing it." He points us to Abraham and
Lot, who unknowingly welcomed heavenly messengers. The implication is striking:
in every stranger who arrives at our door, we might be encountering a messenger
of God. And even if they are not an angel, they are a person for whom Christ
died.
Second: "Continue to remember those in prison as if
you were together with them in prison" (v. 3).
This is empathy incarnate—not simply sending a card or
offering a distant prayer. It is identification. We are to remember
those who suffer as if we are suffering alongside them. The early Christians
were known for visiting and even ransoming their brothers and sisters from
prison—so radical that it concerned Roman authorities. This command reminds us
that the church is one body. When one member suffers, we all suffer. We are
bound together, not by blood or nationality, but by the blood of Christ.
II. The Source of Our Compassion: The Feeding of the
Multitude (3.5 minutes)
If Hebrews calls us to this radical love, the Gospel from
John 6 shows us the power that makes it possible. Here we see Christ, the
"author and giver of all good things," in action.
A great multitude has followed Jesus for so long that they
are physically starving in a desolate place with no food. The disciples see
only the problem: two hundred pennyworth of bread is not enough, and there is
nothing here but a lad with five barley loaves and two small fishes.
This is our situation. We are like Philip and
Andrew, looking at our own resources and feeling overwhelmed. Our love is
meager. Our capacity to show hospitality is limited. Our ability to ease
suffering is like a single fish in a sea of need.
But Jesus acts. He takes the meager offering,
gives thanks, and distributes it. And they all ate and were satisfied. The
remnants alone filled twelve baskets—more than they started with.
What does this miracle tell us?
First: Jesus Sees the Need. He looked up and saw
the great company coming to him. He is not indifferent to human suffering. His
compassion is not a distant pity—it is an active, moving force. He sees the
crowds in our city, the forgotten in our communities, and He has compassion.
Second: He Uses Our Small Gifts. Jesus does not
create the bread from nothing. He uses the boy's offering. The Lord of all
power asks us for the little we have. Is it your time? Your resources? A simple
willingness to open your home or visit the prisoner? You may feel your offering
is insignificant, but in the hands of Jesus, it is enough. He blesses it,
breaks it, and multiplies it.
Third: We Are the Instruments. Jesus distributed
the bread through the disciples. We are the hands and feet of Christ. He is the
one who satisfies the soul, but He chooses to use us as His instruments to
satisfy physical needs. Our acts of hospitality are the "distribution"
of the bread of life to a hungry world.
III. Living the Heavenly Hospitality (2.5
minutes)
So, how do we live this out? The Epistle and Gospel together
give us the answer.
Our worship is not confined to this building. The sacrifice
that pleases God is not the blood of bulls and goats, but the sacrifice of
praise and of doing good, of sharing with others. When we practice hospitality
to strangers, we are offering a sacrifice to God. When we visit those in prison
and identify with the suffering, we are continuing the work of Christ.
Take the lesson of the miracle with you. The Lord took the
bread, gave thanks, and broke it. This is the same pattern of the Eucharist. In
this Holy Meal, we are fed by the true Bread from Heaven. And just as the
disciples were fed first and then sent out to feed others, we
are strengthened by the Word and Sacrament to go out and show a love that
continues. We are fed by God's goodness so that we can become conduits of His
goodness to the world.
Conclusion (2 minutes)
Brothers and sisters, let us not be a people who hoard our
resources, our time, or our comfort. Let us be a people who are "ready to
die for each other," who open our homes and our hearts.
Let us remember the strangers, the foreigners, the
marginalized. Let us not forget the prisoners, the sick, and the persecuted.
For in doing so, we are not just showing kindness—we are showing our kinship
with Christ.
The world will not be won to the Gospel by our arguments,
but by our love. It will ask, as it did in the first century, "See how
they love one another?"
Consider this week: Who is the stranger in your path? Who is
the prisoner—whether literally imprisoned or imprisoned by sickness,
loneliness, or grief—that you are called to remember?
Practical Challenge: Before you leave today,
identify one specific person God is calling you to show this love to. Perhaps
it is a neighbor you've never welcomed. Perhaps it is a shut-in you can visit
or call. Perhaps it is someone suffering that you can pray for daily.
Christ sees you. Christ gives you His Spirit. Christ invites
you to bring your small offering—and He will multiply it.
Let us go forth from this place, nourished by the Word,
ready to be broken and multiplied for the sake of the world, for the glory of
God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
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