The Miracle of Enough
A Sermon on Matthew 14:14-22 and the Council of Nicaea
Oops!
Picture the disciples at the close of day, looking out at 5,000 hungry people scattered across the hillside. The sun is setting, stomachs are gWhat do 5,000 hungry people and 300 arguing bishops have in common—and why does it matter for your life today?rowling, and panic is setting in. Their calculation is simple and devastating: “We have here only five loaves and two fish” (Mt 14:17). Only. That word hangs in the air like a death sentence.
How often do we find ourselves in that same place? Looking at our resources – our time, our energy, our faith, our unity – and concluding it’s simply not enough. Not enough to feed the hungry. Not enough to heal the divisions. Not enough to face the challenges before us.
This is the mathematics of scarcity that governs so much of human life. We count what we have, measure it against what’s needed, and conclude we’re insufficient. The disciples weren’t wrong in their assessment – five loaves and two fish weren’t enough for 5,000 people. By any reasonable calculation, they were facing an impossible situation.
Ugh!
Now, fast-forward three centuries to 325 AD. The Church that began with twelve disciples now spans the Roman Empire, but it’s fracturing. A priest named Arius is teaching that Christ is subordinate to the Father – essentially denying the full divinity of Jesus. Churches are choosing sides. Bishops are excommunicating each other. Riots are breaking out in the streets of Alexandria.
Like the disciples on that hillside, church leaders are doing their own desperate math. What do we have to work with?
- Bishops who can barely agree on the time of day?
- Theological arguments that seem to divide rather than unify?
- Political pressures from an empire that wants religious peace?
- Scattered communities speaking different languages, following different customs?
- A crisis that threatens the very heart of Christian faith?
Emperor Constantine calls every bishop in the church to gather in Nicaea. The task? Somehow forge unity from chaos. Somehow find language that the entire Church can embrace. Somehow preserve the apostolic faith, the faith, while ending the divisions. By any human calculation, it was impossible. How can you get 300+ strong-willed bishops to agree on anything, let alone the most profound mysteries of faith?
Aha!
But notice what Jesus doesn’t do in our gospel reading. He doesn’t send the disciples to the market. He doesn’t lecture them about better planning. He doesn’t say”go find more.” Instead, he asks them to bring what they have, saying something revolutionary: “Bring them here to me” (Mt 14:18).
This is precisely what happened at Nicaea. Constantine didn’t invite the bishops to bring solutions – he invited them to bring themselves, their faith, their fragments of understanding. From Egypt came Athanasios with his passionate defense of Christ’s divinity. From Spain came Hosius with his diplomatic wisdom. From Syria, from Gaul, from Britain they came – each bringing their piece of the puzzle.
Here’s the clue that changes everything: Christ doesn’t need our abundance – he transforms our meager offering. The miracle isn’t that five loaves become sufficient; it’s that five loaves become superabundant. Twelve baskets of leftovers! The disciples started with “not enough” and ended with “more than enough.”
Whee!
For months, those bishops wrestled with words, argued over concepts, prayed together, and gradually discovered something extraordinary happening. From their diverse theological traditions, their different languages and cultures, their various pastoral experiences, Christ was weaving something new … and yet ancient.
The Nicene Creed didn’t emerge because they had all the answers, but because Christ multiplied their faithful offering. Each bishop brought his “loaves and fishes” of theological understanding, and Christ transformed them into bread that could feed the entire Church.
Just as there were twelve baskets of leftovers after the feeding of the 5,000, the fruits of Nicaea have continued to nourish the Church for 1,700 years. Every Sunday when we recite “We believe in one God, the Father Almighty …” we’re still eating from those baskets. Orthodox, Catholic, Protestant – we’re all still being fed by what Christ multiplied at Nicaea.
And here’s the beautiful irony: the bishops who gathered at Nicaea were deeply divided when they arrived. Yet their faithful offering of what little they had became the foundation for the unity of Orthodoxy that we celebrate today. Catholics and Orthodox, despite our historical divisions, still confess the same Creed, still worship the same Christ whose divinity was so carefully defined at Nicaea.
Yeah!
Next week, we have the extraordinary opportunity to witness this miracle continuing. Our Metropolitan is coming, and together with our Catholic brothers and sisters, on Tuesday, August 12, we will celebrate 1,700 years of that Nicene miracle. We’ll stand together and recite the same words those bishops hammered out in 325 AD.
But here’s the question for us: What will we bring to this celebration? What will we bring to our ongoing life as Christians? Maybe you’re looking at your own resources – your faith feels small, your knowledge limited, your ability to make a difference minimal. Maybe you’re doing that same desperate math the disciples did: “I have only…”
But remember – Christ doesn’t need your abundance. He transforms your offering. The same Lord who fed 5,000 with a child’s lunch, who guided 300+ bishops to forge lasting unity, is still at work today. Still taking our small offerings and multiplying them beyond our imagination.
So come to our celebration next week. Bring your questions, your struggles, your fragments of faith. Bring your desire for unity, even if it feels insufficient. Bring what you have, just as those disciples did, just as those bishops did. And prepare to be amazed at what Christ can do with our willing offering.
Because the miracle of Nicaea wasn’t that the bishops had enough wisdom – it’s that Christ had enough love to transform their faithful offering into something that still feeds us today. The miracle of the feeding wasn’t that five loaves were sufficient – it’s that Christ’s abundance knows no limits.
And the miracle happening in our lives isn’t that we have everything figured out – it’s that when we bring what we have to Christ, he multiplies it beyond our wildest dreams.
Amen.