Preached at Grace and Canadochly on August 12, 2018
Preaching text: John 6:35, 41-51
There are a lot of things that are not fun about being in the hospital recovering from illness. But, for me, having done this far more times now than I care to think about, there is one thing that just drives me bonkers. Ulcerative Colitis is a digestive disorder, which means the very first thing that happens to me when I go with a flare is that I am immediately put on a very restricted diet. Five days straight of clear chicken broth. Yay me!
Now, it helps settle things. But there’s an added factor. Flip on the TV. Let’s see what’s on to entertain me while I lie here and heal. “Arby’s! We have the meats!” “Unlimited soup, salad, and breadsticks at Olive Garden.” “Pizza, pizza!” Ah, man, I can’t handle this. Let’s try the internet. Facebook. “Hi, here’s my lunch at this delicious restaurant.” “Oh, here’s a recipe for this wonderful new appetizer.” ARRRGH!!!
Food becomes almost an obsession when you can’t have it. But isn’t that just so human? We’re always focused on what we lack instead of what we have. I’m there in the hospital, under the care of an immensely skilled and talented team of medical professionals doing all they can to help me get better and I’m bellyaching (literally in some cases) about not being able to eat a hot dog.
But I think that’s one of the big points that keeps being driven home by these “bread of life” stories from the Gospel of John. We always get so hung up on what we don’t have that we are often blinded to what we do. That theme continues with today’s lessons. As Jesus teaches about what it means to be the “bread of life,” the great religious teachers take offense at him. Why? Because he doesn’t, in some way, measure up to their expectations. They echo the complaint of Jesus’ hometown synagogue, “This is just the son of Mary and Joseph. Who is he to make such bold claims?” Whatever else they may think, Jesus clearly doesn’t measure up.
Keep in mind that this all occurs, after all, after a great sign, the feeding of the 5000. Hardly the sort of deed an ordinary man could perform and yet they’ve missed it entirely because they want to focus on the superficial and the irrelevant.
To his credit, Jesus shows his detractors a great deal of patience. “This isn’t going to look like what you think.” he essentially says. “You’re here because the Father has brought you here, but it’s not like it was before in the wilderness with the manna. It’s different this time.”
And that may be the hardest lesson of all. We humans are creatures of consistency. I may joke, as I did at the beginning, about my chicken soup diet in the hospital, but I know it’s coming. It’s expected and there are no surprises there. We go through life searching for that consistency, those patterns that tell us that things are going to work out like they did before. When this was true, that was also true. When pews were full, we didn’t worry about the church. When money was abundant, we didn’t worry about the church. When jobs were plentiful, we didn’t worry about having enough money for bills and food and other things in life. Now all those things have become less certain and if we just get them back, if we just repeat the old pattern, things will be good again.
Jesus however promises no such assurances here. The old is gone and what remains is something new. With that comes a seeming uncertainty. Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness and they died. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever. What Jesus offers instead is the promise of a faithful God who has dedicated everything to the salvation and care of his people.
God provides all that we need. The trick is whether we believe him or not.
It’s not easy. When we take that good hard look at ourselves and our lives, we don’t typically come away with the impression that we have everything we need to live and thrive and succeed in our callings as disciples of Jesus. We see the lack; we see what we don’t have. We lack strength or knowledge or health or confidence or charisma or whatever. The list can become endless. But that’s not what God sees. And God sees us as we truly are and calls us to our tasks according to his purpose. He’s given us everything, even his very self, and then sits back waiting to watch the magic happen.
God believes in you. God trusts in you. Do you believe in that? Do you believe that God, who knows everything about you, trusts you enough to call you to his service, fully aware that you are capable of doing what he asks? This is the heart of faith. Do you trust that God knows what he’s doing? Do you believe that he’s given you all that you need? Do you believe?
That’s what Jesus is driving at here. Can we, as disciples, place our whole trust in the one who has given all for our sake? Are we confident that his promise will never be broken? Are we assured that our tasks, our calling, is doable? Do we believe it when he says we have life eternal? That we will never be parted from him? That we are his forever? Do we believe it?
We do not lack. We have God. That’s everything. That’s his promise. That’s what it means for Christ to be the “bread of life.” All that we require for life is given to us. All that we require for success is given to us. We have everything we need.
What’s stopping us? Amen.
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