Psalm 84 begins with the words, “How lovely is thy dwelling place, O Lord.” The Psalmist speaks of his love for being within the gates of the Temple at Jerusalem. “For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than live in the tents of wickedness.”
Summer is a time when many of us are on vacation, and church attendance is typically quite low. (I’m also going to be away from church for a Sunday.) All of which raises the question – are we away from God’s dwelling place when we are away from our home congregations?
Many will find a local congregation of their faith tradition when they’re away. In that way, they can still practice their faith, though not at their home church.
But as I Kings 8, depicting the dedication of Solomon’s Temple, has Solomon proclaim: “Even heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you, much less this house that I have built!” Churches and temples are indeed places where we go to experience closer contact with God, but God is present outside these places. Indeed, it could be said that God is in these places at least partially because when those who love God come to church, the God that lives in their hearts comes with them.
So God who fills heaven and earth, and who lives in our hearts, will accompany us on our vacations. This is not to minimize the importance of church attendance – in isolation, over time our faith will wither. Hebrews 10:25 says, “Do not neglect the assembling of yourselves together, as is the habit of some" We need our brothers and sisters to strengthen us in discipleship, and to redirect us when we stray. Nonetheless wherever we go, whether we’re “on the way to Cape May” or enjoying the beauty of the mountains, whether we’re “staycationing” close to home or traveling abroad, God who lives within us is with us.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
On the Way to Cape May......
Pastor Dave will be on vacation next Sunday, Aug 23 - not necessarily in Cape May, but away in order to get some needed R&R. I hope to post an entry for Aug 23. For anybody seeking to visit Emanuel (Bridesburg) UCC, see you Aug 30!
What Time Is It?
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way.” These opening words from Charles Dickens’ novel about the French Revolution, A Tale of Two Cities, depict the deep divisions in French society during that country’s revolution, when the uprising of starving, oppressed peasantry against privileged aristocracy, exemplified by King Louis XVI and his wife Marie Antoinette, she who said of her starving subjects, “let them eat cake,” led many of the aristocracy to the guillotine, and to blood running in the streets. “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” – the words speak to the irreconcilable divisions of the French society at the time of the revolution, when the prospect of better conditions for the peasantry seemed like a harbinger of doom to the aristocracy, when the only language comprehensible to both sides was acts of violence and death.
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times….” Those words could characterize any number of periods of history, including present-day American society. Our politics are incredible polarized; seemingly there’s no common ground to be found between members of the two major political parties. Over the past year, guns and ammunition have been flying off the shelves of gun stores. The Secret Service reports that they are dealing with 30 death threats a day against the president. Some radio and TV talk show hosts have gone right up to the line – or over it - of inciting their listeners to violence. And some unstable listeners are responding, such as the shooter at the Holocaust Museum. Will we see more incidents of domestic terrorism like the 1995 bombing of the Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City? While I don’t foresee the guillotine making a comeback anytime soon, I fear that if our society’s voices of hate and division carry the day, we may see blood running in our streets. We live in deeply, deeply troubling times.
Paul’s words (Ephesians 5:15-20) were for early churches in Ephesus living amid a culture which didn’t share the church’s values, for a church living in deeply troubling times. Paul warns his flock not to get caught up in what is going on around them. “Be careful how you live, not as unwise people, but as wise, making the most of the time, because the days are evil.” The believers at Ephesus are out of step with the surrounding culture – as we inevitably will be out of step with our culture, if we’re faithful. Paul’s instructions are sort of like house rules, like when parents tell their children, “In this house we don’t hit one another” or “In this house we clean up after ourselves.” Beyond the specifics of Paul’s instruction, Paul is urging his followers to maintain their identity, despite whatever nonsense was going on around them.
One might think of a mother or father sending a grown son or daughter out into the world. The son or daughter is old enough to be responsible for their own decisions, and yet the parents want to offer the wisdom of experience. Some parents tell their children something along the lines of these words: “Remember who you are.” Remember who you are. No matter what those around you are doing – don’t get caught up in it. Remember who you are. Remember.
In our Old Testament reading, we see Solomon at the beginning of his reign, shortly after the death of King David, his father. Like the proverbial genie coming out of a bottle, God comes to Solomon in a dream and asks Solomon what he wants, offering to grant Solomon’s wish. Solomon pleases God by asking for wisdom rather than long life or riches, or the life of his enemies. God tells Solomon that, if Solomon will walk in God’s ways, God will make him healthy, wealthy, and wise. However, as we know, Solomon strayed. He spent a bit over 7 years building a fabulous temple for worship of God – but then we are informed that Solomon spent 13 years building his own house. He married many wives in order to make political alliances with neighboring countries – and his wives led him into worship of false gods. As the years passed, Solomon at times forgot who he was. And actions had consequences; the sense of national unity that characterized the reign of David and his son Solomon’s reign ended shortly after Solomon’s death. And some things never change – the formerly united 12 tribes broke apart because of a dispute over – taxes.
“Be careful how you live, making the most of the time, because the days are evil.” “Remember who you are.” Well, who are we? Who are we exactly? First and foremost we’re Christians, followers of Jesus Christ, those who are nourished by the body and blood of Christ. In our Gospel reading (John 6:51-58), Jesus continues to offer himself fully to his followers. Jesus said, “Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.” John tells us that Jesus said these things as he taught in synagogue near the time of the Passover - between the lines of the text, John’s narrative essentially has Jesus offering himself to his listeners as their Passover sacrifice. It’s not surprising that many of Jesus’ casual listeners were, as the saying goes, grossed out by these words – “eat this guy’s flesh – drink his blood - ewwww”, and turned away. But we as Christ’s followers are to feed on Christ confidently, to draw our strength from Christ.
“Remember who you are.” “Be careful how you live, making the most of the time, for the days are evil.” Are we making the most of the time that God graciously gives us? Many Christians on the conservative end of the Protestant spectrum of belief feel that time is growing short, that time is running out, that Jesus is coming very soon. Feeling time growing short, some believers sit on their hands and do nothing, even as environmental damage and political unrest make life on earth ever more challenging. After all, goes that line of thought, how much effort do we want to invest in this world, when Jesus will be coming a couple years from now to carry us all away. We’ve got our golden parachute. For those who don’t, what concern is that of ours? Certainly, this sort of thinking makes us focus obsessively on ourselves and perhaps those in our immediate family – “us four, no more” as the saying goes, to the exclusion of concern for those outside our narrow circle. Make no mistake – I believe that Jesus will return. I also believe that with all my heart that, until then, God has given us a vocation and a mission which we must not abandon. I see no evidence in Scripture that the two great commandments – love God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength; love your neighbor as yourself – were intended at some present or future time to be revoked.
So we do need to use wisely the time God has been gracious to give us. In our church life, we shouldn't allow ourselves to be sidetracked by trivia, to waste energy on arguments about the color of the drapes in the social hall or such, while people around us are in need of Good News. God has entrusted us with the message of salvation, and our neighbors need to hear it. We must be up and doing, up and doing in sharing the Good news, speaking to our neighbors about Jesus, inviting them to worship with us. We must be up and doing, loving God and neighbor with the same self-giving love Jesus gave us.
From Matthew 24:45-46: “Who then is the faithful and wise servant, whom his master has put in charge of his household. Blessed is that servant whom his master will find at work when he arrives.” A bumper sticker says, “Jesus is coming – look busy” but a more appropriate message is “Jesus is coming – be faithful.” “Jesus is coming. Remember who you are.” Amen.
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times….” Those words could characterize any number of periods of history, including present-day American society. Our politics are incredible polarized; seemingly there’s no common ground to be found between members of the two major political parties. Over the past year, guns and ammunition have been flying off the shelves of gun stores. The Secret Service reports that they are dealing with 30 death threats a day against the president. Some radio and TV talk show hosts have gone right up to the line – or over it - of inciting their listeners to violence. And some unstable listeners are responding, such as the shooter at the Holocaust Museum. Will we see more incidents of domestic terrorism like the 1995 bombing of the Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City? While I don’t foresee the guillotine making a comeback anytime soon, I fear that if our society’s voices of hate and division carry the day, we may see blood running in our streets. We live in deeply, deeply troubling times.
Paul’s words (Ephesians 5:15-20) were for early churches in Ephesus living amid a culture which didn’t share the church’s values, for a church living in deeply troubling times. Paul warns his flock not to get caught up in what is going on around them. “Be careful how you live, not as unwise people, but as wise, making the most of the time, because the days are evil.” The believers at Ephesus are out of step with the surrounding culture – as we inevitably will be out of step with our culture, if we’re faithful. Paul’s instructions are sort of like house rules, like when parents tell their children, “In this house we don’t hit one another” or “In this house we clean up after ourselves.” Beyond the specifics of Paul’s instruction, Paul is urging his followers to maintain their identity, despite whatever nonsense was going on around them.
One might think of a mother or father sending a grown son or daughter out into the world. The son or daughter is old enough to be responsible for their own decisions, and yet the parents want to offer the wisdom of experience. Some parents tell their children something along the lines of these words: “Remember who you are.” Remember who you are. No matter what those around you are doing – don’t get caught up in it. Remember who you are. Remember.
In our Old Testament reading, we see Solomon at the beginning of his reign, shortly after the death of King David, his father. Like the proverbial genie coming out of a bottle, God comes to Solomon in a dream and asks Solomon what he wants, offering to grant Solomon’s wish. Solomon pleases God by asking for wisdom rather than long life or riches, or the life of his enemies. God tells Solomon that, if Solomon will walk in God’s ways, God will make him healthy, wealthy, and wise. However, as we know, Solomon strayed. He spent a bit over 7 years building a fabulous temple for worship of God – but then we are informed that Solomon spent 13 years building his own house. He married many wives in order to make political alliances with neighboring countries – and his wives led him into worship of false gods. As the years passed, Solomon at times forgot who he was. And actions had consequences; the sense of national unity that characterized the reign of David and his son Solomon’s reign ended shortly after Solomon’s death. And some things never change – the formerly united 12 tribes broke apart because of a dispute over – taxes.
“Be careful how you live, making the most of the time, because the days are evil.” “Remember who you are.” Well, who are we? Who are we exactly? First and foremost we’re Christians, followers of Jesus Christ, those who are nourished by the body and blood of Christ. In our Gospel reading (John 6:51-58), Jesus continues to offer himself fully to his followers. Jesus said, “Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.” John tells us that Jesus said these things as he taught in synagogue near the time of the Passover - between the lines of the text, John’s narrative essentially has Jesus offering himself to his listeners as their Passover sacrifice. It’s not surprising that many of Jesus’ casual listeners were, as the saying goes, grossed out by these words – “eat this guy’s flesh – drink his blood - ewwww”, and turned away. But we as Christ’s followers are to feed on Christ confidently, to draw our strength from Christ.
“Remember who you are.” “Be careful how you live, making the most of the time, for the days are evil.” Are we making the most of the time that God graciously gives us? Many Christians on the conservative end of the Protestant spectrum of belief feel that time is growing short, that time is running out, that Jesus is coming very soon. Feeling time growing short, some believers sit on their hands and do nothing, even as environmental damage and political unrest make life on earth ever more challenging. After all, goes that line of thought, how much effort do we want to invest in this world, when Jesus will be coming a couple years from now to carry us all away. We’ve got our golden parachute. For those who don’t, what concern is that of ours? Certainly, this sort of thinking makes us focus obsessively on ourselves and perhaps those in our immediate family – “us four, no more” as the saying goes, to the exclusion of concern for those outside our narrow circle. Make no mistake – I believe that Jesus will return. I also believe that with all my heart that, until then, God has given us a vocation and a mission which we must not abandon. I see no evidence in Scripture that the two great commandments – love God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength; love your neighbor as yourself – were intended at some present or future time to be revoked.
So we do need to use wisely the time God has been gracious to give us. In our church life, we shouldn't allow ourselves to be sidetracked by trivia, to waste energy on arguments about the color of the drapes in the social hall or such, while people around us are in need of Good News. God has entrusted us with the message of salvation, and our neighbors need to hear it. We must be up and doing, up and doing in sharing the Good news, speaking to our neighbors about Jesus, inviting them to worship with us. We must be up and doing, loving God and neighbor with the same self-giving love Jesus gave us.
From Matthew 24:45-46: “Who then is the faithful and wise servant, whom his master has put in charge of his household. Blessed is that servant whom his master will find at work when he arrives.” A bumper sticker says, “Jesus is coming – look busy” but a more appropriate message is “Jesus is coming – be faithful.” “Jesus is coming. Remember who you are.” Amen.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Bread from Heaven
Maybe you’ve had this experience – you attended a high school reunion or otherwise had occasion to get together with some folks you grew up with and went to school with, but that you haven’t seen for a while. One of these friends – somebody with whom you used to hang out casually, but had since lost touch - has been very successful in the years since last saw him or her. This person drives up to the reunion in a Rolls Royce or some other fancy car that cost a mint, insists on showing you pictures of his palace of a home, talks about his life of meetings with business leaders and leading politicians, tell of his kids who all started their own businesses at age 14. And as you’re sitting there listening, you’re thinking, “who the heck does he think he is. Hey, I knew him when he was growing up, back when he put his pants on one leg at a time…. He’s nothing special” or as the saying goes, “he ain’t all that.” Or as a different saying goes, “familiarity breeds contempt.”
In today’s reading from John’s Gospel (John 6:35-51), those who listened to Jesus had a similar reaction. Jesus tells them, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” Jesus’ listeners, who remember him when he was growing up, said, “bread that came from heaven…yeah, right….he’s the son of Joseph…we know exactly where he came from …he’s nothing special.”
We’re continuing our series of Gospel readings in John’s gospel about “Jesus as the Bread of Life.” In these readings, Jesus feeds the crowd of five thousand, and then uses that miracle to try to explain to the crowds who he is, and to offer himself to them fully, to satisfy them at their point of deepest need. In these readings, the word “bread” takes on multiple layers of meaning, and considering the word “bread” at all these levels gives us a deeper appreciation and gratitude of the mission of Jesus. However, like Jesus’ listeners, if we think we’re on familiar ground, if we think we “know,” if we think nothing special is going on here, we may end up missing out on an encounter with the divine.
The four Gospels each begin in distinctive ways. Mark’s Gospel just begins, “The beginning of the Good News of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” Matthew and Luke have the Christmas narratives, each with different details. As usual, John’s Gospel is really different. Remember that John’s Gospel begins with an almost cosmic explanation of Jesus, those familiar words we often read on Christmas Eve: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…All things came into being through Him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it….He was in the world, and the world came into being through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God….and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth.” Remember that Deuteronomy 8:30 says that “man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.” This is one of the ways in which Jesus spoke of himself as the bread from heaven; Jesus was the life-giving force of God, the Word of God described in John’s Gospel that called all things into being, now become flesh and speaking to the crowds. This is typical of John’s Gospel, with Nicodemus, Jesus used the metaphor of birth to speak of being born from above or born again; with the woman at the well, Jesus spoke of living water that would never run out; in today’s Gospel, Jesus begins with bread that we eat, but speaks beyond that to himself as the Living bread, that life-giving Word of God that will always sustain us.
We get a picture of how God sustains us in our Old Testament reading today (I Kings 19:4-8). Elijah had just won a great victory over the false prophets of Baal. As often happens, no good deed went unpunished; his life was threatened, and he went into the wilderness and called on God to let him die. Instead, an angel of the Lord set food and water before him and told Elijah “get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you.” Scripture tells us that “in the strength of that food Elijah went 40 days and 40 nights to Horeb the mountain of God.”
As Christians, we are fed by Jesus, the living bread from heaven. We all have those moments in our lives when we’re like Elijah, when we feel discouraged, when we feel like we’ve prayed all we can and we’ve done all we can, and now we’re just plain done, when we’re overwhelmed with exhaustion and wonder why God doesn’t just call us home. Our faith in Jesus can sustain us, like bread that never runs out. In the strength of that living bread, we can find the resources to make a way out of no way.
Our Gospel contains some words of Jesus that are perhaps unnerving – “No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me….Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me.” In many evangelical and fundamentalist traditions, preachers speak of the need for believers to “come to Jesus” and “make a decision for Christ” a decision to “accept Jesus as their Lord and Savior.” As the old hymn goes, “I have decided to follow Jesus, no turning back, no turning back.” All true enough. But this passage from John seems to come at this from the opposite direction – No one can come to Jesus unless first drawn by the Father. We can “decide for Christ” only because God the Father has first decided for us. For Jesus and the early disciples, this explained why some people responded to Jesus’ message while others didn’t. But this can both discomfort and comfort us. On one hand, do we trust that God is still drawing people, that people are still hearing and learning from the Father? Our churches try to reach out to the community, try to share the good news, but so few respond. It can be discouraging, and it takes a great deal of trust to believe that God is still working God’s purpose out, that seeds we wish to plant perhaps just need more time before they sprout. But on the other, what great comfort that God made preparations for our salvation even before any of us here had any thought of the need to be saved. And what great relief for us as Christians – what great relief for me personally as a pastor – that the salvation of our neighbors doesn’t depend on our personal eloquence, certainly not my personal eloquence – that we don’t have to try to reason or argue people into the Kingdom of Heaven, only to be willing to tell others what God has done for us. God will do the rest.
So we’ve spoken of bread as…bread, and we’ve spoken of Jesus as the Word, the creative power of God that existed from the beginning and was made flesh – in this sense, the bread from heaven. At the end of the reading, verse 51, we begin to reach the 3rd level of meaning of “bread” – Jesus says that the bread that he gives for the life of the world is his flesh. Of course, his listeners are still on a literal level – “How can he give us his flesh to eat – is he going to hack a hunk off his arm and toss it to us or something. Who can stand to listen to this?” But now Jesus’ words are moving into the words we speak during communion, which we spoke last week, when I say “Take and eat, this is the body of Christ which is broken for you and for me. Take and drink, this cup is the new covenant in Christ’s blood, poured out for you and for me.” Let us take a moment to meditate on these words, to chew on them a bit, as it were. As we share bread and cup among ourselves, we believe that Christ is truly present in our midst. Various Christian communities differ in their interpretations of how Christ is present, whether the elements physically become Christ’s body and blood, or whether the presence is in spirit only. In the sharing of the elements, we covenant together to life as followers of Christ. And as we take the body and blood of Christ into ourselves, Christ lives in us and through us. Little by little, our lives are no longer our own, as Christ lives in us, and our lives will never be the same again.
May we know the presence of Christ, the bread from heaven, in our lives, and as Christ lives in us, may his sustaining presence reach our neighbors, hungering for the sustaining love of God. Amen.
In today’s reading from John’s Gospel (John 6:35-51), those who listened to Jesus had a similar reaction. Jesus tells them, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” Jesus’ listeners, who remember him when he was growing up, said, “bread that came from heaven…yeah, right….he’s the son of Joseph…we know exactly where he came from …he’s nothing special.”
We’re continuing our series of Gospel readings in John’s gospel about “Jesus as the Bread of Life.” In these readings, Jesus feeds the crowd of five thousand, and then uses that miracle to try to explain to the crowds who he is, and to offer himself to them fully, to satisfy them at their point of deepest need. In these readings, the word “bread” takes on multiple layers of meaning, and considering the word “bread” at all these levels gives us a deeper appreciation and gratitude of the mission of Jesus. However, like Jesus’ listeners, if we think we’re on familiar ground, if we think we “know,” if we think nothing special is going on here, we may end up missing out on an encounter with the divine.
The four Gospels each begin in distinctive ways. Mark’s Gospel just begins, “The beginning of the Good News of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” Matthew and Luke have the Christmas narratives, each with different details. As usual, John’s Gospel is really different. Remember that John’s Gospel begins with an almost cosmic explanation of Jesus, those familiar words we often read on Christmas Eve: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…All things came into being through Him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it….He was in the world, and the world came into being through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God….and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth.” Remember that Deuteronomy 8:30 says that “man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.” This is one of the ways in which Jesus spoke of himself as the bread from heaven; Jesus was the life-giving force of God, the Word of God described in John’s Gospel that called all things into being, now become flesh and speaking to the crowds. This is typical of John’s Gospel, with Nicodemus, Jesus used the metaphor of birth to speak of being born from above or born again; with the woman at the well, Jesus spoke of living water that would never run out; in today’s Gospel, Jesus begins with bread that we eat, but speaks beyond that to himself as the Living bread, that life-giving Word of God that will always sustain us.
We get a picture of how God sustains us in our Old Testament reading today (I Kings 19:4-8). Elijah had just won a great victory over the false prophets of Baal. As often happens, no good deed went unpunished; his life was threatened, and he went into the wilderness and called on God to let him die. Instead, an angel of the Lord set food and water before him and told Elijah “get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you.” Scripture tells us that “in the strength of that food Elijah went 40 days and 40 nights to Horeb the mountain of God.”
As Christians, we are fed by Jesus, the living bread from heaven. We all have those moments in our lives when we’re like Elijah, when we feel discouraged, when we feel like we’ve prayed all we can and we’ve done all we can, and now we’re just plain done, when we’re overwhelmed with exhaustion and wonder why God doesn’t just call us home. Our faith in Jesus can sustain us, like bread that never runs out. In the strength of that living bread, we can find the resources to make a way out of no way.
Our Gospel contains some words of Jesus that are perhaps unnerving – “No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me….Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me.” In many evangelical and fundamentalist traditions, preachers speak of the need for believers to “come to Jesus” and “make a decision for Christ” a decision to “accept Jesus as their Lord and Savior.” As the old hymn goes, “I have decided to follow Jesus, no turning back, no turning back.” All true enough. But this passage from John seems to come at this from the opposite direction – No one can come to Jesus unless first drawn by the Father. We can “decide for Christ” only because God the Father has first decided for us. For Jesus and the early disciples, this explained why some people responded to Jesus’ message while others didn’t. But this can both discomfort and comfort us. On one hand, do we trust that God is still drawing people, that people are still hearing and learning from the Father? Our churches try to reach out to the community, try to share the good news, but so few respond. It can be discouraging, and it takes a great deal of trust to believe that God is still working God’s purpose out, that seeds we wish to plant perhaps just need more time before they sprout. But on the other, what great comfort that God made preparations for our salvation even before any of us here had any thought of the need to be saved. And what great relief for us as Christians – what great relief for me personally as a pastor – that the salvation of our neighbors doesn’t depend on our personal eloquence, certainly not my personal eloquence – that we don’t have to try to reason or argue people into the Kingdom of Heaven, only to be willing to tell others what God has done for us. God will do the rest.
So we’ve spoken of bread as…bread, and we’ve spoken of Jesus as the Word, the creative power of God that existed from the beginning and was made flesh – in this sense, the bread from heaven. At the end of the reading, verse 51, we begin to reach the 3rd level of meaning of “bread” – Jesus says that the bread that he gives for the life of the world is his flesh. Of course, his listeners are still on a literal level – “How can he give us his flesh to eat – is he going to hack a hunk off his arm and toss it to us or something. Who can stand to listen to this?” But now Jesus’ words are moving into the words we speak during communion, which we spoke last week, when I say “Take and eat, this is the body of Christ which is broken for you and for me. Take and drink, this cup is the new covenant in Christ’s blood, poured out for you and for me.” Let us take a moment to meditate on these words, to chew on them a bit, as it were. As we share bread and cup among ourselves, we believe that Christ is truly present in our midst. Various Christian communities differ in their interpretations of how Christ is present, whether the elements physically become Christ’s body and blood, or whether the presence is in spirit only. In the sharing of the elements, we covenant together to life as followers of Christ. And as we take the body and blood of Christ into ourselves, Christ lives in us and through us. Little by little, our lives are no longer our own, as Christ lives in us, and our lives will never be the same again.
May we know the presence of Christ, the bread from heaven, in our lives, and as Christ lives in us, may his sustaining presence reach our neighbors, hungering for the sustaining love of God. Amen.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Bread of Life
When I was in grade school, we went on a field trip to a bread factory – can’t be 100% sure of the name of it but it might have been Sunbeam bread – We got a tour of the plant and saw the various processes involved in producing bread on a large scale – making the dough and baking it and getting it sliced and put into those plastic bags that the bread comes in. I remember the smell of baking bread as our schoolbus drove up to the plant and as we pulled out of the parking lot to go back to school. My grade school teachers told our class that “bread is the staff of life.”
Indeed, in most cultures, bread – some kind of bread - is a staple of life. We refer to prisoners being fed bread and water – enough to survive on. Folks like me whose overconsumption of bread over the years has made me a member of the wider church, so to speak, may hear their doctors imploring us, beseeching us to cut down on carbs, but for many, bread is still a staple, a necessity, part of one’s daily diet. Certainly it was a necessity to the large crowd that, in John 6, Jesus fed from a boy’s lunch of five barley loaves and two fish. We’re told that, for peasants of Jesus’ day, roughly half their intake of calories would have come from bread. And this would not be bread that they would purchase at the supermarket with their paycheck at the end of the week – not like the bread I saw produced on my grade school field trip, which ended its journey presliced and packaged in a plastic bag, sealed with a twist tie - but something they had to struggle hard for, to sweat and ache for day by day in order to live. This is the bread with which Jesus fed the crowd.
And crowds wanted to keep being fed. So they followed Jesus. John 6:24-35 tells us that Jesus was very aware of their motives, and tells them straight out that they’re only following him in order to get their next meal. This is Jesus’ lead-in to tell them not to be satisfied with the food that perishes, but for food that endures for eternal life. The crowd responds with a call for Jesus to give them manna, as Moses did in the wilderness in our Old Testament reading today. Jesus responds that God, not Moses, sent bread down from heaven – and that God is sending bread from heaven now, in the form of Jesus. What the crowds saw as something Moses did long years ago, Jesus said was happening right now in their midst. Jesus said, “I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never be hungry, and he who believes in me shall never be thirsty.”
The contrasts between Mark’s and John’s gospels are interesting. As we studied Mark’s gospel a few months back, it appeared that Jesus was always trying to conceal his identity. He’d do some miracle, and tell those who witnessed it, “don’t tell anyone.” In John’s gospel, Jesus is endlessly telling people who he is – with various “I am” statements such as “I am the good shepherd, I am the door for the sheep” or as in today’s Gospel, “I am the bread of life” – and the crowds don’t get it. They ask Jesus for a miracle of manna from heaven, even though he’d just gotten done feeding them with five loaves and two fish.
Jesus said that those who come to Him will never be hungry. And yet sometimes we are hungry, and not just in a physical sense. We’re hungry for so many other things – for connection to God and neighbor, for a sense that our work and our lives have meaning, for assurance that God loves us and cares for us. Yes, we get hungry.
Jesus says that he is the bread from heaven. As the manna from heaven sustained the children of Israel through 40 years of slogging through the wilderness, so Jesus sustains us through the wilderness stretches in our lives. And we all go through those stretches in which troubles pile on, in which bad things happen, not just in threes, but again and again and again and again, on and on, when the only light at the end of the tunnel seems to be the proverbial headlamp of an oncoming train. Or those stretches when, externally, things seem ok, yet life seems empty, hollow. If we will come to Jesus, we will receive the bread from heaven, receive the nourishment and strength to keep on keeping on.
And not only keep on keeping on for ourselves, but also to provide strength for our neighbor. The missionary D. T. Niles said that evangelism is one beggar telling another where to find bread. Like children – or adults – long deprived of the necessities of life, we may be tempted to hoard food, to be satisfied with enjoying Christ for ourselves. But we must not be greedy. Jesus Christ, the bread from heaven that feeds and sustains us, is also to feed and sustain our neighbor. We must be willing to tell others where and how to find this living bread. The crowds wanted to be fed physically, but Jesus wanted to feed them in all aspects of their lives, to be their bread of life, as he wants for us and our neighbor as well. And whether our neighbor is fed or not becomes a spiritual matter. A hungry neighbor is a spiritual challenge to us. The crowds wanted to fill their stomachs, but the good news of Jesus is to feed us – and our neighbor – body and soul; the whole gospel of Christ is good news for the whole person.
As we feed on Jesus, the bread of life, we ourselves are built up into the body of Christ, as described by Paul in our reading from his letter to the Ephesians. Paul says that we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ. Paul writes of the whole body, joined and knit together, each part working properly, promoting the body’s growth in building itself up in love. And so it is that some clergy, when celebrating communion, tell those coming forward for the bread and wine – “receive what you are, the body of Christ.”
Guide me, O thou great Jehovah / Pilgrim through this barren land.
I am weak, but thou art mighty / Hold me with thy powerful hand.
Bread of heaven, bread of heaven, feed me till I want no more.
Feed me till I want no more.
May we be sustained by Jesus, the bread of life, and in days ahead may we share this living bread with our hungry neighbors here in our beloved community of Bridesburg. Amen.
Indeed, in most cultures, bread – some kind of bread - is a staple of life. We refer to prisoners being fed bread and water – enough to survive on. Folks like me whose overconsumption of bread over the years has made me a member of the wider church, so to speak, may hear their doctors imploring us, beseeching us to cut down on carbs, but for many, bread is still a staple, a necessity, part of one’s daily diet. Certainly it was a necessity to the large crowd that, in John 6, Jesus fed from a boy’s lunch of five barley loaves and two fish. We’re told that, for peasants of Jesus’ day, roughly half their intake of calories would have come from bread. And this would not be bread that they would purchase at the supermarket with their paycheck at the end of the week – not like the bread I saw produced on my grade school field trip, which ended its journey presliced and packaged in a plastic bag, sealed with a twist tie - but something they had to struggle hard for, to sweat and ache for day by day in order to live. This is the bread with which Jesus fed the crowd.
And crowds wanted to keep being fed. So they followed Jesus. John 6:24-35 tells us that Jesus was very aware of their motives, and tells them straight out that they’re only following him in order to get their next meal. This is Jesus’ lead-in to tell them not to be satisfied with the food that perishes, but for food that endures for eternal life. The crowd responds with a call for Jesus to give them manna, as Moses did in the wilderness in our Old Testament reading today. Jesus responds that God, not Moses, sent bread down from heaven – and that God is sending bread from heaven now, in the form of Jesus. What the crowds saw as something Moses did long years ago, Jesus said was happening right now in their midst. Jesus said, “I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never be hungry, and he who believes in me shall never be thirsty.”
The contrasts between Mark’s and John’s gospels are interesting. As we studied Mark’s gospel a few months back, it appeared that Jesus was always trying to conceal his identity. He’d do some miracle, and tell those who witnessed it, “don’t tell anyone.” In John’s gospel, Jesus is endlessly telling people who he is – with various “I am” statements such as “I am the good shepherd, I am the door for the sheep” or as in today’s Gospel, “I am the bread of life” – and the crowds don’t get it. They ask Jesus for a miracle of manna from heaven, even though he’d just gotten done feeding them with five loaves and two fish.
Jesus said that those who come to Him will never be hungry. And yet sometimes we are hungry, and not just in a physical sense. We’re hungry for so many other things – for connection to God and neighbor, for a sense that our work and our lives have meaning, for assurance that God loves us and cares for us. Yes, we get hungry.
Jesus says that he is the bread from heaven. As the manna from heaven sustained the children of Israel through 40 years of slogging through the wilderness, so Jesus sustains us through the wilderness stretches in our lives. And we all go through those stretches in which troubles pile on, in which bad things happen, not just in threes, but again and again and again and again, on and on, when the only light at the end of the tunnel seems to be the proverbial headlamp of an oncoming train. Or those stretches when, externally, things seem ok, yet life seems empty, hollow. If we will come to Jesus, we will receive the bread from heaven, receive the nourishment and strength to keep on keeping on.
And not only keep on keeping on for ourselves, but also to provide strength for our neighbor. The missionary D. T. Niles said that evangelism is one beggar telling another where to find bread. Like children – or adults – long deprived of the necessities of life, we may be tempted to hoard food, to be satisfied with enjoying Christ for ourselves. But we must not be greedy. Jesus Christ, the bread from heaven that feeds and sustains us, is also to feed and sustain our neighbor. We must be willing to tell others where and how to find this living bread. The crowds wanted to be fed physically, but Jesus wanted to feed them in all aspects of their lives, to be their bread of life, as he wants for us and our neighbor as well. And whether our neighbor is fed or not becomes a spiritual matter. A hungry neighbor is a spiritual challenge to us. The crowds wanted to fill their stomachs, but the good news of Jesus is to feed us – and our neighbor – body and soul; the whole gospel of Christ is good news for the whole person.
As we feed on Jesus, the bread of life, we ourselves are built up into the body of Christ, as described by Paul in our reading from his letter to the Ephesians. Paul says that we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ. Paul writes of the whole body, joined and knit together, each part working properly, promoting the body’s growth in building itself up in love. And so it is that some clergy, when celebrating communion, tell those coming forward for the bread and wine – “receive what you are, the body of Christ.”
Guide me, O thou great Jehovah / Pilgrim through this barren land.
I am weak, but thou art mighty / Hold me with thy powerful hand.
Bread of heaven, bread of heaven, feed me till I want no more.
Feed me till I want no more.
May we be sustained by Jesus, the bread of life, and in days ahead may we share this living bread with our hungry neighbors here in our beloved community of Bridesburg. Amen.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
