Sermon 8/10/03
"The Real Thing" - Ephesians 4:25-5:2, John 6:35, 41-51
(view lectionary notes for this text)
Today we move to the third out of four weeks of teachings about bread, and Jesus as the bread of life. We pick up right where we left off last week, with our passage opening with a reemphasis of the close of last weeks selection: we hear Jesus again saying, "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty." We start off with this verse again because it is this verse that sets the crowds to complaining. They had been following Jesus all over the place, eager for more food, more healing, more time in his presence. But then Jesus said that he himself was the bread of life, and things started to get uncomfortable.
Last week I mentioned how bread doesn't mean as much to us today as it did to cultures in Jesus' time. Certainly, in most cultures, bread was a staple, something that people just could not do without, literally could not live without. But to people of the Jewish faith, bread meant even more - bread was laden with symbolic and theological meaning that made it not just vital for physical needs, but an intricate part of their faith identity. You'll remember that the crowds had asked Jesus for a sign, mentioning that their ancestors had been given manna - bread from heaven - when they were wandering in the wilderness. But as they are questioning Jesus, he declares that he is the bread from heaven. He will not show them signs, he is the sign. The crowds are very upset. They know Jesus is not from heaven - they know his parents, they know where he is from. To compare himself to something that is so important in their faith histories is insulting and heretical. "Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know," they ask? "How can he now say, 'I have come down from heaven'?"
Preaching on this text, one pastor quips: "You can get away with murder if you are just a little vague. Let me tell you what I mean. If you make a statement or a promise and you are just vague enough, you leave yourself an out. We have come to expect this kind of thing from politicians. A politician promises to "address" an issue. We think the politician will do something about the problem when in reality all they intend to do is make mention of it in a speech. After all, another word for a speech is an address." He continues, "If you can get away with murder by being vague, you can also get yourself killed by being too precise. If you say exactly what you mean, people will hold you to your words. Your precision has given them a standard by which to judge you and your actions. It gives them something solid to shoot at. Your enemies will love you for being too precise. If you beat around the bush you can get away scott-free, but if you say exactly what you mean they'll nail you." This, he argues, is exactly what is happening here with Jesus. He has been precise - he does not mince words - he says he is the bread of life, and that is what he means. And of course, the crowds who just the day before wanted to force kingship upon him now are confused, grumbling at his words, and questioning his authority.
So Jesus continues to speak - "Don't complain about my answers," he chastises. "I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread that cam down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh." Jesus is precise. He is the bread of life, and those who take this gift of grace receive that gift of bread into themselves and receive the gift of life itself. He's precise, and tells them how it is. We'll have to wait until next week to find out who they respond! But here's a hint:
Some of my very favorite books are the Chronicles of Narnia, by C.S. Lewis, a theologian who wrote the most wonderful fiction stories. You'll have to listen carefully to see how many times in a year I manage to squeeze in references to these books, because I always seem to find a way to connect them to the biblical text! That's no surprise though - C.S. Lewis communicated a lot of theology to young children through his books, and the Chronicles are a perfect example. In the last volume, titled, The Last Battle, the world of Narnia is coming to an end. After a huge battle, some are taken away by the evil figure of Tash. Others are greeted warmly in a heavenly realm by Aslan, the lion who represents Christ in these books. But there is yet a third group. There is a group of Dwarfs who have had it with everybody. Certainly, the Dwarfs did not support the evil men in the war, but neither would they support those on the good side, those working for Aslan. The Dwarfs were for the Dwarfs, they said. They were angry and bitter, and didn't want anything to do with anyone. Finally, when they end up in the heavenly realm, they still cannot be satisfied. While the others see the beauty of the surroundings, the Dwarfs can't see anything at all, and they think they are stuck in a dark animal stable. One of the girls asks what can be done for the Dwarfs. Aslan responds, "I will show you both what I can, and what I cannot do." We pick up the story at this point with an excerpt:
"Aslan raised his head and shook his mane. Instantly a glorious feast appeared on the Dwarfs' knees: pies and meats and trifles and ices, and each Dwarf had a goblet of good wine in his right hand. But it wasn't much use. They began eating and drinking greedily enough, but it was clear that they couldn't taste it properly. They thought they were eating and drinking only the sort of things you might find in a stable. One said he was trying to eat hay and another said he had got a bit of an old turnip and a third said he'd found a raw cabbage leaf. And they raised golden goblets of rich red wine to their lips and said, "ugh! Fancy drinking dirty water out of a trough that a donkey's been at! Never thought we'd come to this." But when at last they [finished eating] they all said, "Well, at any rate there's no Humbug here. We haven't let anyone take us in. The Dwarfs are for the Dwarfs."
"You see," said Aslan, "they will not let us help them.. They have chosen cunning instead of belief. Their prison is only in their own minds, yet they are in that prison; and so afraid of being taken in that they cannot be taken out."
Jesus tells us that we are like the Dwarfs in this story. Jesus stands before us and says, "I am the bread of life - drink of me and never thirst, eat of me and never be hungry again. I am the son of God, through me you can have abundant life, real life. Come to me, and by knowing me, know God, my own parent, better." But we, like the people in the crowd Jesus spoke to, like the Dwarfs in the story who could not taste and see the feast spread before them, often cannot or will not see what Jesus is showing us. We see just plain bread, not Jesus. We see our physical wants and needs, not the chance at spiritual fullness. We see just a man, not a source of real life. We see just Mary and Joseph's son, not one who is God's precious child. We see a human with all our limitations, not a divine figure who can draw us close to the God of grace. We somehow don't want to be taken in.
One pastor writes, "In one way, what Jesus says is plain: He is talking about his divine identity. But even seeing that causes questions, for we humans simply cannot comprehend what it means to be divine. We know that to be divine is to be different-different from being human; but since we are not divine, it's hard to know what the difference is! But when Jesus says he is the heavenly bread of life, he gives us plenty of clues. Bread is something we eat. It nourishes us. It sustains us. And at points in our lives it even makes us grow. Maybe that's who Jesus is, God come to us to nourish us, to sustain us, and to make us grow. Moreover, maybe like bread, Jesus has to be consumed to do us any good!"
Here is one case where we have to let ourselves be taken in. Jesus is the bread, and Jesus offers us life abundant. Recently at Casowasco with the CCYMers, I learned a new grace, and if half of them weren't on the Redbird trip now, I'd have them sing it for you! But the tune is the Coca-Cola theme song, and the worlds go like this: Jesus said to us "I am the bread of life, those who come to me will never be hungry. Those who come to me will never be thirsty, John 6:35 - Jesus is the real thing."
Indeed, in Jesus we can rest assured, we've found the real thing. This isn't just the neighbor kid from down the road, but this is God's child, God in person, come to us to share with us bread, to share with us love, and to share with us life. I'd like to close with a poem written by a pastor that talks about this passage. I invite you to close your eyes, imagine yourself as one of the eager crowds on that day. Will you let yourself be taken in?
Hear these words:
This is just a local guy, nobody special. How could he come from God? We know his parents, know where he comes from. He comes from here, among us, where we live, this place, and this sure isn't heaven. And yet, isn't that truly our experience of our loving God? As often as we are tempted to look for the divine in the exceptional, the unusual, the lightning bolt from out of the blue, when we stop to ponder it, we realize the opposite is indeed so. Here before us in our lives in so many ways, God is present, reaching out to us in love. -- our Parent, drawing us in, through the beauty of nature, the loyalty of a friend, the joy of family, the mystery of birth and death. Isn't this just the local boy, Joseph's son? How can he come from heaven? Isn't this just a conversation with a friend? How can this be a word from God? Isn't this just an ordinary family with its ups and downs? How can this be a holy sacrament of God's faithful love? And yet in these ways and many, many more, we are being fed with the Bread of Life. We have tasted and seen the goodness of the Lord, A little clue about what our faith walk involves for us as Christians is given in the passage from Ephesians. Live in love, it says. Literally it says, "walk in love." That is our walk, our journey. Walk in love and be imitators of God, the Kind, the Compassionate, the Forgiving. Walk in love in the footsteps of Christ, ready to hand yourself over in love, as a sacrificial offering. Just as Christ, the Bread of Life, offered himself for the life of the world, so are we to do. We are to imitate Christ the Bread, and offer ourselves for the life of the world. Will all of you also be Christ's body? Will you promise to imitate him, as a sacrificial offering? as bread for the world? "Amen." So be it, we pledge. "Do this in memory of me," Jesus said. In memory of how Christ loved us and handed himself over for us, he asks us to continue his work. "You also must be bread for the life of a hungry world. "You also must give of yourselves for the sake of others, and yourselves become the way God is present." Ordinary people we may appear to be -- just the local folks, from around here. But fed with the Bread of Life, we become more than what we appear, -- The bread of life strengthened to serve the world. The son of Joseph turned to be more than what he seemed. The son of Joseph was in fact the Son of God. The ordinary circumstances of our lives are more than they appear. Through them, God is present in a variety of forms. This God who once fed Israel on their desert journey with manna from heaven, who once fed a despairing Elijah with the hearth cake and water, who once fed the 5000 with a few loaves and fish, continues to feed us with the Bread of Life. It seems so ordinary, and yet is so much more than what it appears. It would be easy to miss it. Don't miss it. The bread of life is the real thing. Amen.