Tag: God’s Purpose

  • Cannibal Christians?

    This week’s Gospel reading begins with the last verse in last week’s reading. Namely, that Jesus tells the people that the “bread that [he] will give for the life of the world is [his] flesh.” Now, this is already a statement that makes an outrageous claim, and we see it when the people begin arguing amongst themselves. But more importantly, the Jewish people would have been under strict purity laws that would have even made it taboo for them to eat the flesh or drink the blood of certain animals. To then add in the idea of eating human flesh would have been disgusting. But how would they have felt about this?

    From 1978 to 1991, there was an active serial killer in the United States who would eat the body parts of his victims after he had murdered them. Most of you are old enough to remember this being plastered across the news because one of his intended victims escaped, and then the police began to investigate. When the police entered this man’s home, they found human body parts, wrapped up in butcher paper, and neatly stacked in the refrigerator and the freezer, awaiting a future meal. 

    When asked why he had killed so many people, the man said that he was incredibly lonely. And by killing these people and consuming their flesh, he felt that they would become a part of him. And if they became a part of him, then they would be with him forever.

    Now, I can tell by some of your faces that you find this scenario pretty disgusting, and outrageous. Incomprehensible even. For those of us of sane mind and sound body.

    I want you to remember this feeling.

    The people listening to Jesus would have wanted the gift of eternal life, and the hope that they would never thirst or hunger again. They could see a glimmer of the beauty that Christ offered, but they would have been confused at this outrageous claim that they must eat his body and drink his blood in order to be a part of him. 

    How can this be? How can we eat Jesus’ flesh? But this is unusual. It is gruesome. It is shocking. It is taboo. What does Jesus mean?

    Now, we have the luxury of looking back on Jesus’ words, and we know that Jesus is shifting their minds from the physical and literal into the spiritual and eternal. We know that when we “eat his flesh,” we are partaking in spiritual realities, even though they may also have real world substance.

    But this still begs the question: How do we eat Jesus’ flesh? How do we eat, partake, and consume Jesus?

    Well, there are several ways, all of which are in our corporate worship.

    The first is what we call the Liturgy of the Word, which is just a fancy way of saying that we read the Bible and talk about it. Our lector comes up, and reads scripture from the assigned readings for the day: the Lectionary. It is through the reading of this scripture that we consume the Word of God. And we know, according to John’s Gospel, that “in the beginning was the Word. And the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” This, of course, is referring to Jesus, God’s Word. And Jesus came down so that his spoken words and the example of his life would be a guidepost to us. The more we hear the Word of God read aloud, the more we begin to assimilate these words into our life and attempt to live by them. 

    The sermon interprets those scriptures for us, and helps us to apply them to our daily lives. If you look closely at the words in the liturgy, you will also see how much of the liturgy has been pulled directly from Scriptures, and the inclusion of the Nicene Creed explains in detail what we believe about Jesus, the Son of God. By listening to the reading of Scripture, by listening to the sermon, and by engaging in the liturgy, we are consuming Christ through spoken word. We can also consume Christ in the spoken and written word by reading the bible on our own, or taking part in group bible studies, book studies, and group theological discussions. These ways are pretty straightforward, and they certainly don’t bring up any awkward feelings of cannibalism, but they are, in fact, a way of consuming Christ in our lives.

    The Eucharist is the second way in which we can consume the body of Christ. In the Episcopal church, we believe that the presence of Christ is truly in the elements of bread and wine. And this passage in John is part of where we get this understanding. 

    In the second chapter of John, Jesus told the people that if they destroyed the temple, he would raise it up again in three days. The people thought he was talking about the temple in Jerusalem that took 46 years to build, but Jesus was talking about his body. John’s Gospel then records that after his death and resurrection, his disciples remembered his words, and understood that he had been talking about himself when he said he would raise the temple in three days.

    Like the disciples, we also have the luxury of understanding events after they have transpired. In this passage today, Jesus says that the bread that he will give people for eternal life is his own flesh. And that if people do not eat of this flesh and drink of this blood, they will have no life in him.

    In the other Gospels, at the Last Supper, Jesus uses what we call the Words of Institution when he breaks the bread and prepares the wine – words that we hear every Sunday in the liturgy: “This is my body .. this is my blood … do this in remembrance of me.” 

    At the crucifixion, at the moment that Jesus died, there was a loud sound, as of thunder, and the temple veil that separated the holy of holies from the rest of the temple was ripped in half, symbolizing that God’s presence was available to the world through the body of Christ that hung on a cross as a forgiveness for our sins. And when he rebuilt the temple – his body – again in three days, he conquered death and brought us eternal life, and it is through this temple, Christ’s Body, that we stand in the presence of God. 

    We do not claim to understand how exactly that works. We instead allow God to maintain that mystery for us, and we accept it on faith that in some manner, these elements of bread and wine become for us the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. And we consume them and thank God that we have been fed with Spiritual Food, as we enter into the eternal promise and wait for Christ’s coming in glory.

    Of course, using words like Flesh and Blood when talking about the Eucharist brings up those awkward feelings of cannibalism. And our ancestors in the faith had to deal with the gossip and persecution that ensued from speaking about eating Christ’s body and blood, because those outside the faith would have been as disgusted at the thought of eating flesh as we were at the thought of human body parts in a freezer.

    A third way that we can consume Christ is through the community of believers.

    When telling kids about the Eucharist, we talk about the presence of God in the bread and wine, and we mention that if they have eaten of this bread and wine, then Christ is inside them. And, through the way that our bodies process food, the body and blood of Jesus becomes a part of them too.

    Then, we ask, what happens if your friend eats of this bread and wine? The kids usually understand very quickly that Jesus becomes a part of their friend too, and that now, after the Eucharist, Christ has become a part of both of them. And, if Jesus is now a part of both of them, then they are both a part of Jesus.

    Last week we read Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, in which Paul said that “we are all members of one another,” and that we are to put away all bitterness and wrath and to be kind to one another. Paul also said that we should let no evil talk come out of our mouths, but rather, only what is useful for building each other up, so that our words might be grace for those that hear. 

    And this week, Paul continues with that theme. Paul exhorts the people of Ephesus to be wise, for the days are evil. We must be wise, Paul writes, so that we can know the Will of the Father. Together we sing songs, and together we share our gratefulness and thankfulness not only with God, but with each other.

    Both of these passages from Paul’s letter to the Ephesians basically tell us that our words, our actions, our attitudes, are food that help to grow – to build up – one another in Christ. What Paul is saying is that our words are spiritual food for each other. Our words, our actions, and our attitudes toward one another are also The Bread of Life, because they are fueled by the Holy Spirit, by the Presence of God within us.

    It is when we seek God’s wisdom, and when we seek God’s will that we become food for life to one another and that we feed on the Christ that is in each of us. That is, I consume the Christ that is in you, and you consume the Christ that is in me. Because our words come from the place of wisdom that seeks to know God’s will, and to speak kindness, love, gentleness and forgiveness into each other. 

    It is for this reason that Paul tells us to be wise. Our words, our actions, our attitudes – when they stem from the wisdom of knowing the will of God, will build each other up, will build up the community, the body of Christ, because our words will be like food for the soul

    But when we seek our own will, and when we fall into the temptation to behave according to what the world holds dear, rather than what God holds dear, then we run the risk of eating each other in order to build up ourselves.

    We become Spiritual Cannibals.

    That feeling of disgust that we had at the idea of body parts wrapped in butcher paper and stored for a future meal in a freezer is the same disgust that we should feel when we watch people gossip about others, when they slander people for their own personal gain, when they call people names and question the other person’s character for political capital. We should be as disgusted at those who belittle others and denigrate them, denying the dignity of their humanity, as we are at those who would eat the flesh of another human, because in the end, it amounts to the same thing: the destruction of another human being. This sort of behavior is not spiritual food that builds up the community of Christ, and it certainly isn’t spiritual food that feeds a hurting world.

    Jesus said, “the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”

    Christ wants us to consume him so utterly and completely, so that we do not consume each other.

    Christ, the bread of heaven is eternal and infinite, and when we consume Christ so completely in Word, Sacrament, and the life-giving words of a Community, we find that we have an infinite ability to feed others with the Christ that is within us.

    As the phrase goes: We are what we eat. 

    We can choose to eat what the world offers us, or we can choose to consume Christ.

    If we eat of the Word of God, and if we partake of the Eucharist, and if we live together in Community, building each other up in love and sacrifice, then what we will find is that we become ever more like Christ. We become united with him, and each other, and we become Christ’s body.

    Let us eat of this bread, so that the Christ that dwells in us might be the bread of life for others.

    [This sermon was delivered at St. Alban’s Episcopal Church in Wickenburg, AZ on August 18, 2024.]

  • Filled to Fullness

    These past few weeks I’ve had to deal with insurance companies on getting my medication sent to me. It’s incredibly frustrating, irritating, and stressful. In the Gospel today, we see that people had heard that Jesus was out in the wilderness, curing people, and that they rushed after him to find him, so that they could be healed. Now, these people were poor, very likely could not afford their insurance premiums or the doctor’s visit copays. I can tell you, there were moments where I was so frustrated that if I had heard about someone running around in the desert healing people, I would have dropped everything and run off to find this stranger so that I could be cured. Just like these people in the Gospel who were following Jesus everywhere he went.

    The interesting thing about today’s passage is that we know that Jesus knows why these people are running after him and his disciples – they want healing. But what does Jesus do? He turns to his disciples and says, “How are we going to pay for all these people to eat?”

    Wait? What? Jesus knows they are coming to him for healing from their illnesses, and instead of preparing the disciples to act as medical assistants and get people ordered into a queue for healing, he turns to them and asks how they were going to feed these people. The people come for healing, and Jesus wants to feed them. A curious thing, and one we’ll come back to later. 

    But first, the Gospel tells us that Jesus already knows what he is going to do, and he asks his disciples how to pay to feed all these people in order to test the disciples.

    To test them.

    These responses by the disciples are really examples of how we all often react.

    The first response is by Philip, who looks at the size of the people in the crowd, does a mental calculation, and says, “Six months’ wages would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little.” Now, it’s true, Jesus might have set him up with the question on how they were going to pay for it all, but Philip takes that question, and runs with the idea that he and the other disciples need to make it happen. That the onus to feed these people is all on them and their resources. And for Philip, it’s about money.

    Now, what’s interesting to note about this passage, is that it has often been used by those who preach the Prosperity Gospel. This message states that God wants all of us to be blessed financially, and that those who sacrifice to God like the young boy in the story that gave up his barley bread and fish lunch for others will receive that blessing. That is, God will multiply what you give, and you will reap the earthly reward of extreme financial blessing. 

    That’s a tempting teaching to follow, isn’t it? If I just give five bucks to the church, God will multiply it, and I will be financially blessed. 

    But notice the mindset. The recipient of the blessing is always me, the one who gives, and gives sacrificially. More to the point, if I am giving to the church in order to receive, then I have to admit that I am using God as a strategy, a means to manipulate God into blessing me with abundance.

    Now, I know we might look at ourselves and say, thankfully, we don’t believe that sort of thing. But how often do we tell ourselves that blessings will come upon us if we just read our bible more? Or go to church more? Or pray more? We may not be thinking of financial blessing, but only of spiritual blessing. But these are all part of the same coin, which is that we think that God’s abundance is somehow dependent upon what we do, rather than on God’s compassion and love for us. The Gospel of Matthew tells us that God makes his sun rise on evil and good, and sends rain to the just and the unjust alike. That is to say, God defines our path, and our state in life is not related to our level of righteousness. In fact, God’s grace and mercy always shine a light on what Jesus did on the cross more than on what we try to do for God.

    And also, here’s the thing: the one who makes the sacrifices in this story is the boy. He gave of his barley bread and his fish, and yet the people who benefit are all the assembled people. Not just this boy. Everyone benefited. God took what was sacrificed, and multiplied it – for the benefit of all the people.

    Now, the second response we get is from Andrew, Peter’s brother. His response to Jesus’ question has nothing to do with money, but has to do with available resources. He’s the one who makes Jesus aware that they do have resources available, but then he immediately admits defeat, and asks, “But what are they among so many?” 

    Andrew’s response is coming from a mindset of scarcity. It proclaims defeat before even beginning. It’s almost as if Andrew is saying, “Well, we do not have enough, so let’s not do anything at all.” 

    Another way that people have tried to rationalize or explain this miracle of feeding the five thousand is this: this boy was willing to make a sacrifice and share his food, and by Jesus drawing attention to that sacrificial giving, everyone in the crowd was driven to share their own food. Food that they apparently had stashed away and were trying to hide from others. In other words, what happened was less a miracle of multiplication, and more of an impromptu potluck.

    The trouble with this interpretation is that it reduces this miracle to nothing more than a moral platitude, a reminder that everything we ever needed to know we learned in kindergarten. It makes the assumption that people are inherently greedy and unwilling to share. It makes the assumption that none of these people were poor, or even going hungry, but rather that they just didn’t want to share any of their own resources. These people were not secretly hiding a stash of food, trying to avoid sharing with others. It was a miracle, and God multiplied what was given to him.

    Now, it’s true. We can all share, and sometimes we do all need to be reminded to share our own blessings with others. After all, that’s why the church takes donations. It is through our sacrificial giving that the church is able to help those who are struggling, both within our church and out in the community. 

    One commentator put it this way:

    “Jesus needs what we bring him. It may not be much but he needs it. It may well be that the world is denied miracle after miracle and triumph after triumph because we will not bring to Jesus what we have and what we are … little is always much in the hands of Christ.” (Barclay, John, V. 1, p. 205)

    But notice again the thread of the above comment. Jesus takes what we give him, and multiplies what little we bring into an abundance. Not to accomplish our goals, but to accomplish God’s goals. Not to bless us only, but to bless all the people of God through miracles and triumphs across the world. It’s just that The People of God includes us as well, so when God takes what we give to accomplish God’s purposes, we benefit as well, along with others; the entire community of believers benefits.

    Now, the third response to Jesus’ question is his own. We were already told that he knew what he was going to do when he tested his disciples with this question about money. But the interesting thing is the turn that Jesus takes in his response. We know that these people had been running through the countryside to find Jesus so that he could heal their physical ailments, to be cured of their sicknesses, to be relieved of the stress and irritation their illnesses might be causing them.

    And what does Jesus do? Rather than line them up for healing, instead, he feeds them. He has them all sit down, and he feeds them food. They came for a miracle of healing, and what they got was a belly full of food. What is going on here? What exactly is Jesus doing with these people?

    One clue is found in the statement at the very beginning of the passage: “Now the Passover, the festival of the Jews, was near.” This entire story is set in the context of the Feast of the Passover. And if we remember, the Passover celebrates the Israelites freedom from slavery in Egypt. On the road to the Promised Land, God provided for them with manna from heaven. All of this would have been in the mind of John’s readers and listeners, and a connection would be made between God’s miraculous provision, and the promises of God for God’s people, the people of Israel.

    In the ancient world, one of the easiest ways for kings to manipulate their followers was to control the flow of bread. Or, in other words, to feed the people. It is how they showed mercy, and how they showed power. And so, we have this multitude of people coming for healing, and Jesus feeds them instead. They eat so much that they are exceedingly full, and there is food left over. Jesus took what little was offered, and he multiplied it into an abundance – without trying to control them. Being fed, being provided for, would have made these people compare Jesus to a king, and not just any king, one who was compassionate as well. And it is for this reason that the crowd of people came to try and make him king by force. The listeners of John’s gospel would have recognized this, and would have expected the crowd to behave in this very way. They would have seen that Jesus was being compared to God, the same God who provided for the people through miraculous food as God led them out of slavery in Egypt into freedom.  

    And so they understand when people come by force to make Jesus their king, because that is what they would expect people to do.

    But what does Jesus do?

    He flees into the mountains to get away from the people, because he does not wish to be their king. At least not in the earthly sense. 

    These people had seen the miracle, and had only thought about what Jesus could do for them. They were focused on what they could get from God. They wanted Jesus for what he did for them. They too were hoping to manipulate Jesus into future provision by making him their earthly ruler.

    This is why Jesus ran away.

    Because Jesus had other plans.

    The stark contrast between behaving like an earthly king and providing for people, coupled with Jesus running away when they tried to make him their king would have made the listener’s of John’s Gospel question what was coming next.

    You see, they would have made the connection between Passover, and Jesus miraculously providing for the people as being a precursor to a new type of freedom. That freedom could have meant any number of things to those who were there, or any number of things to those listening to John’s Gospel. 

    And they would have been wondering what that freedom could possibly be.

    The last few weeks, the lectionary has been providing us readings from the Gospel of Mark, but today we switched over to John. This passage from John is the first in a series of readings from John’s Gospel in the lectionary, and it comes just before something called the Bread of Life discourse. This Bread of Life discourse culminates in Jesus’ declaration that “those who eat my flesh and drink my blood will have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day” (John 6:54). 

    Those listening to John’s Gospel were in for a real treat. They were about to see the shift in God’s purpose for humanity from earthly provision of their needs to one of eternal significance. This feeding of the five thousand anxious souls who wanted only to be healed, and instead were miraculously filled beyond fullness with earthly food, helps to foreshadow the Spiritual Food that is Christ Jesus. They were about to see Jesus laying out the path to a new type of freedom, and a path to abundant life for all people. 

    Those listening would soon understand what Paul meant in his letter to the Ephesians, when he wrote:

    I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.

    Ephesians 3:18-19

    That fullness is for all people.

    Because even spiritually, God takes what we give and multiplies it abundantly so that all might live in the Abundant Grace of God.

    [This sermon was delivered at St. Alban’s Episcopal Church in Wickenburg, AZ on July 28, 2024.]