Sermon.
All Saints, Forest Gate. 9 August 2015
Trinity
10 (Year B)
John
6.35, 41-51
We
begin in the middle. That's how Dante begins his Divine Comedy (it's
a good read). But it is also where we are. I come to you as guest for
the first time, and both you and I are already in the middle of our
stories. In particular, we are both in the middle of hearing (whether
for the first or for the thousandth time) Jesus in the sixth chapter
of John's Gospel. Jesus is giving us some sustained reflection on
himself as the Bread of Life.
We
are not at the start. We have already heard, a couple of weeks ago,
of the 'Sign' that Jesus performed – the miraculous feeding of
thousands. And we have heard already that Jesus has linked this to
the divine provision of Manna, bread from heaven, to the People of
Israel in the wilderness. But we are not yet at the end, or even the
climax. In particular, we have yet to hear the most shocking thing
that Jesus has to say. Only next week do we hear Jesus say (do come
back and check that I'm right): 'unless you eat the flesh of the Son
of Man and drink his blood, you have no life within you'.
So,
we are in the middle, but where is that? Where are we? We are, we
might think, in a place of great encouragement. For in today's
passage Jesus makes big claims about himself, and offers good things
to those who come to him. It bears repeating. Jesus says:
'I
am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and
whoever believes in me will never be thirsty... I will raise that
person up on the last day... whoever believes has eternal life...
This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of
it and not die... Whoever eats of this bread will live forever.'
All
of this bears repeating because Jesus himself is so repetitive: to
come to Jesus, or be drawn to Jesus by the Father (which is the same
thing), is
- to be one who is to be raised up,
- to live forever,
- to have eternal life.And all this is so, because Jesus is the Bread of Life.
But
if that's the good news, the bad news is that we cannot indefinitely
put off the question: 'Yes, but what does it mean?'
There
is one thing, I have to suggest, it cannot mean. It cannot mean what
it seems to mean on the surface. It cannot mean that those who come
to Jesus do not die, that they, in the most plain and straightforward
sense, live for ever, live as if they were mortal, but in fact are
indestructible. Both at the times Jesus lived and spoke, and at the
time John the Evangelist wrote things down (and ever since), those
who were followers of Jesus died, of natural causes and also in
tragedies and through violence, just like those who were not the
followers of Jesus. (Think about it: if those first Christians didn't
die, we can be sure we'd have heard about it. Indeed, if those first
Christians didn't die, they themselves would be around to tell us
about it!) Christians are mortal, every bit as mortal as
non-Christians. Whatever it is to 'live forever' because of Jesus, it
does not mean that we escape that very natural, everyday, necessary
process of dying, of ceasing to function as a biological organism.
No. Not that.
And
so we are forced – and that, not because we are wishy-washy or
feeble in faith, but because we take words and truth seriously –
forced to say that 'life forever', or 'eternal life' may well include
entrance into heaven after death, but if it is also for now (and
Jesus says also now), then it includes a quality of life in this
mortal (death-prone) life, Jesus offers a life-giving quality to our
life.
Actually,
the Greek also may nudge us to think more in these terms. The Greek
for 'eternal life' is 'zoe aionios',
meaning literally 'life of the age'. This might indeed mean 'life of
an impossibly long period of time' and so for practical purposes the
equivalent of never-ending life. Or it might mean - by implication,
not literally - 'life of the age to come'.
The life of the time/space/reality where Gd's purposes are
consummated, where our peace, justice and celebration all abound,
where, even if we are on earth and not in heaven, things on earth are
as they are in heaven.
Let
us think of the contrast Jesus makes. 'Your ancestors ate the manna
in the wilderness, and they died' we have heard Jesus say (and he
repeats it). Now, this does not, absolutely cannot mean that the
Manna was poisonous! No, the Manna is Gd's gracious gift to the
people in the wilderness [see Ex 16]. It did indeed come down from
heaven, and to rely on and enjoy the Manna is a mark of proper
dependence on Gd, a mark of trust and faith. So – heavenly rather
than poisonous. And yet, Jesus seems to be saying, it only worked to
keep people alive at some levels, and not at others. It does not have
the quality of eternity, of the 'aionios'
about it.
That
is how many commentators would describe things – and myself,
probably, until I came to reflect on it again in anticipation of
today. There is ordinary, mortal life, which, sure, for the people of
faith, includes miracles too. But then there is extraordinary life
offered by Jesus, which, sure, still means that people die, but which
infuses life with the quality of heaven. The choice is between life
wholly on earth (good) and life on earth but also with a foretaste of
heaven (better), life of eternal value and worth.
But
perhaps things are not that simple.
It
is true that the Manna was not poisonous. Rather it was a gift from
Gd. But neither is its story an entirely happy one. Gd gives the
Manna not because people have with great devotion prayed to Gd. No,
rather, the people have just let out an excessive, sulky complaint,
and not to Gd but to Moses and Aaron (as if they were in charge).
They say this:
'If
only we had died by the hand of the LORD in Egypt, when we sat by the
fleshpots and ate our fill of bread; for you have brought us out into
this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.' [Ex
16.3]
In
other words, it is part of the people's misplaced murmuring and
moaning against Gd's action, forgetful of Gd's liberating grace. And
preachers may not say this very often, but look it up in Exodus and beyond - for all their complaining, the generation which
came up out of slavery in Egypt did all die in the wilderness (apart
from Joshua and Caleb alone). So, yes, the Manna is a miracle from
Gd. But because of the circumstances around it, it is also associated
with something like divine punishment. 'You ancestors ate the manna
in the wilderness, and they died.'
So
can we say that the bread of life, the bread which brings 'eternal
life' is what it is, because it is free of any sense of Gd's
punishment; it is forgiveness, pure? That the life of the age to come
is (is, actually is)
reconciliation is surely a central message of John's gospel. Think
about it. It is in John that we hear most of Jesus' resurrection
appearances (to Mary Magdalene, to the male disciples gathered, to
Thomas, to the disciple fishing, and to Peter).
He
speaks to whom? To those who betrayed him, who denied him and ran
away, and... he encourages them, eats with them, and breathes the
Holy Spirit on them. He challenges them, yes. But nowhere does
he condemn them. And more: nowhere actually does he call on them to
repent or say sorry for their betrayal (that must have come later).
He is simply with them, as a
friend who has come back to his friends, because his friendship was
that strong. (It is also in John that Jesus says: 'I call you
friends'.) So our reconciliation comes through Jesus who enjoys our
company, our companionship, enjoying breaking bread with us (which is
what 'company' and 'companionship' mean).
No
doubt many sermons being preached at this very moment will be
saying that John
We
meet Gd first of all not as judge, and not even as teacher, doctor,
therapist (or whatever), but as a friend who comes to his friends,
and will stick with his friends, because his friendship is
that strong. Even more simply put:
Gd likes us!
We are in the middle of that life-giving story, now. Now, how can be
take the story on?
Amen.
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