The Church’s lectionary occasionally leaves us with only half the picture. This Sunday is one of those occasions. We hear of Jesus feeding the five thousand, yet the preceding account of the execution of John the Baptist is omitted. Matthew, however, intended these scenes to be read together.

The two stories form what artists call a diptych: two panels placed side by side so that each illuminates the other. One panel shows Herod’s lavish banquet, where wealth, status and political expediency culminate in the death of an innocent man. The other shows Jesus feeding a hungry crowd with simple bread and fish, where compassion transforms scarcity into abundance.

The sermon also reflected on Andy Warhol’s Marilyn Diptych, in which one vibrant image gradually fades into monochrome. Standing between the two panels, the viewer is invited to ask which image tells the deeper truth. Matthew invites us into a similar act of contemplation.

His Gospel leaves us standing at the hinge between two kingdoms. One is governed by pride, reputation and the desire to preserve power. The other is marked by mercy, generosity and self-giving love. The contrast reaches beyond these two meals to the Cross and the Last Supper, where broken bread becomes the sign of life for the world.

Every day we stand at that same hinge. We live within earthly kingdoms, yet belong ultimately to Christ’s Kingdom. Matthew’s whole Gospel turns on this single hinge. The question is not simply what we see when the panels are opened, but which kingdom we will allow to shape the life we live between them.