We Can Do Nothing Else

Several years ago, I read a book on finances, which talked about the concept of creating multiple streams of income – some of which we would call “side hustles” today –  but included things like investing and real estate. I learned the concepts and told all of my friends about this, because it made sense.

A few years later, when I had a chance to meet up with one of these friends, I found out that he had taken the concepts that I had shared with him, and had purchased a bar with a restaurant. Outside of his day job as a teacher, he was running a successful bar, even though the extra work was difficult and time-consuming. He thanked me for having shared that information with him, because he felt it made his life better, and allowed him the extra money to engage his goal of traveling the world.

Several years later, I was on a morning walk with my dad, and told him this story, both about how I had shared the good news with my friend, and how my friend had taken that knowledge and put it into practice. And then, as dads do, my father asked the question: “If this was such wonderful information, why did your friend do this, but you didn’t?” It only took me a moment to respond: “Well, I saw no purpose other than to put a few extra shekels in my coin bag. That’s not really a worthy purpose. While I knew that the information was true, I didn’t believe that the effort was worth the gain.” 

Viktor Frankl, a survivor of the Nazi concentration camps during World War II, documented this need for purpose in his book, Man’s Search For Meaning. Even in the horrible treatment they received, the torture that they experienced, Frankl noticed that among his fellow prisoners, those that had a purpose beyond the immediate day to day were the ones who were able to endure torture, suffering and humiliation. He wrote that the greatest courage that a person can have is the courage to suffer. And, as he watched these other prisoners, he came to the realization that “those who have a ‘why’ to live, can bear with almost any ‘how.’”

Today’s Gospel is the conclusion of the Bread of Life Discourse. Jesus has fed people with miraculous food, shaken their understanding of the Messiah, and offered them freedom. The people tried to forcibly make Jesus their king, and Jesus ran away, because this is not how God intended to save the world. He offered them eternal life through his own flesh, and told them that they only needed to believe in him and follow his example. He would not become their king, because God had other plans.

And the people complained, and walked away. They quit being his disciples.

It is important to realize that they did not reject Jesus because of who Jesus was. After all, they had seen him turn water into wine, walk on water, and feed 5000 people with five loaves of bread and two fish. They had seen him heal people, and restore them to their lives within the community. They had watched him make the claim that he was the Messiah. And then, they tried to force him to become their king. They obviously were pretty excited about Jesus. 

So what gives?

We know that from time to time, in this region of the world, religious zealots would arise and amass a following, and the people often believed that these leaders would free them from the oppressive Roman rule. These people would mount an uprising against the Roman overlords – and were routinely defeated. These leaders were the strongest men in the room, those who wanted to bring a hammer to the oppressors, those who wanted to free the oppressed, and restore Israel to its former glory. And so when Jesus comes in, heals people, performs miracles, and feeds a group of people the size of an army, they obviously think: this one is it – this is the right one to make it happen for us. Finally!

But Jesus tells them that they must eat his flesh and drink his blood. That if his body, the temple, is destroyed, he will raise it again in three days. That he will give his life as a salvation for many. That he will offer himself as a sacrifice. And he will do it out of compassion and love for all the people of the world. He would offer them freedom, if they just believed in him, and did as he did.

And the people said: “Nope! Not going to happen.” And they walked away.

To put this into Viktor Frank’s framework, they did not reject the “why” of this situation. They did not reject Jesus. They did not reject the “Why” of the Messiah. They did not reject the idea that a Messiah was to come, or the purpose of the Messiah. What they rejected was the “How.” They rejected “how” Jesus would offer the freedom and salvation he promised but not the “why.”

Or, to put it a different way, they did not believe that the “how” was worth the “why.” They did not believe that the extra effort was worth the gain.

By rejecting the “how,” these people were really saying, “We want to control how you provide for us, how you offer freedom, and how you save the world. We don’t want it to happen your way, we want it to happen our way.” And because Jesus was unmoving, because Jesus ran away from them when they tried to make him their king by force, because Jesus continued to offer his way, rather than theirs, they rejected his leadership and they left.

Last week we talked about all the ways in which we consume Jesus, with the ultimate goal being that we take his words and the example of his life as the ultimate model for our own.  But, as one commentator puts it, 

“The more we realize that faith calls us to consume the body and blood of Christ, to embrace his death and resurrection and to emulate his manner of living and dying for others, the more difficult the journey of faith becomes.”¹

I’ve watched people make religion about rules and regulations. I’ve watched them reduce the entirety of the faith down to the task of upholding those rules. Because rules are easy. Rules tell you where the good stops and the bad starts. Rules tell you where you will find light and where you will find darkness. They make simple the distinctions between right and wrong. 

And more importantly, the rules are easy to control. And when we can control the rules, we can control people. We can define what it means to follow Christ or deny him, and we can tell people when they are wrong, or welcome them when they are right.

But life is never that clear. It is a muddy mess. And the path to Jesus is never as clear as “do this and you’ll be right with God. Do that, and God will erase your name from the book of life.” Our lives are a twisted, convoluted mess of “hows” trying to move toward the “why” of Jesus.  And we will never be able to uphold the entirety of any set of rules and regulations just by sheer force of will. And trying to uphold the “how” that we – or others – have set is why so many people look at our religion and say, “This is a difficult teaching. Who can accept it?” And they walk away. Not from God, but from that version of God that would ask them to conform exactly as we define it. Because that is the example we have given. When we choose a religion of rules over the sacrifice, compassion and love of Christ, we have done exactly the same: we have turned to Jesus and said, “This is a difficult teaching. How can we accept it?” and walked away. And people are simply following our example, because we have rejected the example of Christ, and instead have chosen an easy “how.”

But thankfully, that is not the “how” that Jesus envisioned. Jesus did not make a set of rules and tell us we had better – or else.

Instead, as our eucharistic prayer says:

“when we had fallen into sin and become subject to evil and death, you, in your mercy, sent Jesus Christ, your only and eternal Son, to share our human nature, to live and die as one of us, to reconcile us to you, the God and Father of all.

He stretched out his arms upon the cross, and offered himself, in obedience to your will, a perfect sacrifice for the whole world.” (Eucharistic Prayer A)

Jesus came not to be the strong man, he came to be the lamb. He didn’t come to destroy the world. He didn’t come to conquer, but to sacrifice. All so that he could reconcile the world to God.

God, through Jesus, defined not only the “why,” but also the “how.” Jesus said that the life that he would give for the salvation of humanity is his own, and his life is all about sacrifice, compassion, forgiveness and reconciliation. 

This is the model of “how” and this is the way in which we are to approach the world. We are to offer our own lives as a sacrifice for others, we are to show compassion, forgiveness, and seek reconciliation where possible. Our lives are to be a beacon of light in a dark world, and our words, actions and attitudes are to be the bread of life to those around us – through the example of sacrifice that Jesus set for us. Because that example leads to eternal life. But more importantly, that example leads to abundant life, and it leads to peace and joy in this life as well.

This is what the disciples understood. When Jesus asked if they would leave him too, Peter’s response was less of a “We don’t have anywhere else to go,” and more of a “Now that we see and understand, we can do nothing else but follow you.”

Let us pray that we too can do nothing else.

1. Feasting on the Word, Year B, Proper 16, p. 383

[This sermon was delivered at St. Alban’s Episcopal Church in Wickenburg, AZ on August 25, 2024.]