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The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost John 6:53-59 |
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So, here we are again this morning. and for most of us this is a familiar scene indeed: Grace Cathedral—coming to church to worship God, praying and singing with other Christians, sitting where we usually sit, settling in to hear the Word of God and to share in Holy Communion. Here we are again. And once again, the Gospel lesson is from the sixth chapter of John—and preachers everywhere, and probably their listeners, are asking, "How long can this go on?" For three weeks now the Gospel's theme has been of Jesus as the Bread of life—the Bread of Life, Episode 3—and we wonder if someone hasn't made a mistake—if perhaps the people who put together the lectionary accidentally assigned the same reading three weeks in a row, or maybe even on purpose, just to have a little fun with the poor souls who have to prepare a sermon each Sunday. "I am the Bread of life. . .” Yes John, yes, but we've heard that before. Haven't we already gotten the message? Well, apparently, the author of the fourth gospel thinks we haven't. For the standard operating procedure of this gospel writer is to take fewer themes than we find in the other three gospels, and to explore them in greater depth. Rather than pushing on to a new story of Jesus, a new miracle or new parable, John prefers that we linger, savoring the complex meaning of a few key events. And Jesus, as we meet him in this gospel, is rather demanding, even a little aggressive. He takes on the crowds and, through them, attacks our ignorance, our listlessness, our too comfortable sense that we have been here before. This is done in today's gospel lesson by challenging us to consider the connections between four things that we might not necessarily bring together: Jesus, bread, life, and God. "I am the Bread of life," Jesus tells us again this morning. It sounds lovely, hopeful, reassuring. But consider it for a moment. What a strange thing for our Lord to say! Jesus seems to want to make the point almost literally: "My flesh is food indeed," he says. This bread I will give for the life of the world. Those long ago, or today, who have been drawn to Jesus only by his wisdom, or his kindness or his fame are certain to be troubled at this point. It is almost as if John is trying to shock us into thinking seriously about who Jesus is, about who we are, and about how we receive and become the Body of Christ in this meal today. Jesus calls us to an intimacy of relationship with him that goes beyond even what many of us Christians are seeking. For unless you eat of this flesh and drink of this blood—unless I am in you and you are in me, Jesus says, you have no life within you. But just when we begin to get somewhere with connecting Jesus and bread, John throws another term in for our consideration: life. Ordinary bread will not sustain us forever. Jesus reminds his listeners that even those who ate manna in the wilderness, which was also bread from heaven, eventually died. But he promises that those who eat his flesh and drink his blood have eternal life and will be raised up at the last day. Jesus is the Bread of Life. There was an elderly woman in the parish where I worked as a seminarian assistant in Tennessee who was a bit of a hypochondriac and who used to panic from time to time and want communion brought out to her just in case she happened to die during the course of the week. Oh, she was at church most every Sunday. She just wanted a little “life” insurance for those in between times. And though this case is a little extreme, most of us can make some connections between Jesus and bread and life on that level. We all might, and probably should, long to hear these words and to eat this bread even on our deathbeds. But in this gospel passage, Jesus invites us to think not only of life after death—(although his promise seems to hold great hope for that too)—but of how, even now, we receive life from him. Jesus invites us to consider that we, both as individuals and as a corporate body, are now on our deathbeds, unless we have found the life that sustains us in the one who is our way, our truth and our life. Christ is the head, ready to love us, to teach the path of wisdom to us, even to feed us. And in such a moment, our present and our future blend together in one joyous eternity with God. And finally, that brings us to God, the final term for our consideration this morning. All of this talk about Jesus and bread and life that never ends would be poetic dreaming except for the claim of faith that Jesus was indeed the one who came in the name of the Lord—the One that the living Father sent. Jesus is the heavenly bread because he comes from God. So God, in great love for us and for this perishing world, sends Jesus to us. Life. For, you see, God not only speaks to our minds, but touches our bodies—our hearts— with the bread that we receive this morning. Here we are again, but as always, so much more is going on here than we had dreamed when we walked into the church. So much is going on here, and yet in the end this deep and complex gospel is rather a simple matter. It all comes down to the naming of God. In this place we are in God's presence, touched by God's love in Jesus, fed by the bread of life, renewed for our life this day and into all of eternity. And if that is our situation, then we cannot sit here without response. Our mere attendance is not enough. If in this hour Jesus, and bread, and life and God all come together, then we must rouse ourselves, wake up, and live as the epistle lesson [from Ephesians] invites us to live: "Be filled with the Spirit, as you sing [together] psalms and hymns and spiritual songs…singing and making melody to the Lord in your hearts, giving thanks to God the Father at all times and for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” So here we are again. But consider what a joy and a privilege it is to be here in the light of the mystery of what is offered here. And then join in the celebration to receive the bread, the life, the strength you need for whatever lies ahead of you -- until here we are again. In the Name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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