Grace Episcopal Church, Madison NJ
August 26, 2012
Year B: Proper 16 – The 13th Sunday after Pentecost
1 Kings 8:1, 6, 10-11, 22-30, 41-43
Psalm 84
(Ephesians 6:10-20)
John 6:56-69
Difficult and Life-Giving
By
now many of you have heard at least a little about our recent mission trip to
West Virginia.
As
usual with this kind of trip, I went into it a little nervous. Maybe the other
participants were nervous, too. I wondered if we’d all get along. I worried
that our accommodations would be too uncomfortable. And I hoped that our work
would match our skills and energy – not too easy but also not overwhelmingly
technical or difficult.
Well,
everything turned out OK, though I admit that my stomach sank a little when I
learned we’d spend our week working on a roof. None of us had any skills in
this area. And, obviously working on a roof presents some particular safety
issues.
I
joked that I was only allowed to lose one person – but that was only masking my
real concern that someone would take a tumble down to the ground.
It
turned out that we all got pretty comfortable on the roof – and, though we had
a close call or two, nobody fell off.
The
first days of removing the two layers of old roof was some of the most
difficult physical work I’ve ever done. Waking up those first couple of
mornings I was so sore I worried I wouldn’t be able to walk, let alone climb
the ladder to the roof.
It
was difficult work – but I think for all of us it was also life-giving work.
And
that’s the way life works, isn’t it? Very often the most difficult work is also
the most life-giving work.
Many
of us have been faced with difficult work in school and in our professional
lives.
Many
of us have taken on the difficult work of being a husband or wife, of being a parent,
of being a grandparent.
Many
of us have had the difficult work of caring for a sick family member of friend.
And
over and over most, if not all, of us have learned that often what’s most difficult
is also the most life-giving.
Difficult
and yet life-giving.
In
today’s gospel lesson we heard a story about many of Jesus’ first disciples not
understanding that often what’s most difficult is also the most life-giving.
In
today’s gospel lesson we come to the end of Jesus’ long teaching about bread and
many of Jesus’ disciples – not
outsiders but disciples - respond that his teaching is difficult. They
ask Jesus, “Who can accept it?”
It’s
a surprising response. What’s going on here?
As
Kit mentioned his sermon last Sunday, when the Evangelist John tells the story
of the Last Supper he does not include anything about Jesus taking the bread
and saying, “This is my body” and there’s nothing about Jesus taking the cup
and saying, “This is my blood.”
Instead,
John tells us the powerful story of Jesus at the Last Supper washing the feet
of his friends.
But,
John more than makes up for that omission by including Jesus’ long teaching on
bread that we’ve been hearing over the past few weeks in church.
According
to John, after the miraculous feeding of the five thousand, Jesus boldly
proclaims, “I am the bread of life.” Then later, just as boldly, according to
John, Jesus says, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.”
Now,
remember that the Gospel of John was the last to be written – probably
completed in its final form around the end of the First Century.
So,
on one level, John tells the story of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection.
But,
on another level, John also offers us a window into what was going on in a
particular Christian community, seventy or so years after the Resurrection.
Although
John doesn’t include the bread and the wine in his story of the Last Supper,
it’s clear that the Eucharist has already become important to John’s community
of Christians.
We
hear that importance when Jesus says, “Those who eat my flesh and drink my
blood abide in me, and I in them.”
Just
like us, Christians at the end of the First Century knew perfectly well that when
they gathered for the Eucharist they were not eating human flesh and drinking
human blood.
But,
people outside the community weren’t so sure about that. These outsiders would
have heard just enough about Christians eating Jesus’ body and drinking Jesus’
blood to think something really weird was going on with these people. And Jews
would have been especially horrified since the dietary laws strictly forbid
eating the blood of animals. Imagine how much worse it would be to consume
human blood!
So,
no surprise, one of the earliest slanders against Christians was that they were
cannibals.
But,
here’s the thing: notice that in today’s gospel lesson we’re told that it’s not
outsiders – it’s many of Jesus’ own disciples who say to Jesus, “This
teaching is difficult; who can accept it?”
And
here “difficult” doesn’t mean hard exactly but more like “offensive.”
So
we’re told that many of the disciples – the men and women who had seen Jesus
perform many signs – the men and women who had seen Jesus heal – the men and
women who had heard Jesus teach like they had never heard anyone teach before –
the men and women who were there when Jesus somehow transformed five loaves and
two fish into enough abundance to feed 5000 people with leftovers – many of
these disciples give into what must have been pretty powerful peer pressure,
declaring Jesus’ teaching too difficult – too offensive to the world – too
offensive maybe for themselves - and so they choose to leave the Christian
community and live like everybody else.
It’s
a discouraging story that must have been true during Jesus’ earthly lifetime.
It’s a story that must have been true for John’s community seventy years later.
And, for us today the deal-breaker probably isn’t communion, but let’s be
honest, we have our own potential deal-breakers – parts of Jesus’ teaching that
tempt us to throw up our hands and say this is too difficult – and go off to
live like everyone else.
The
truth is there’s nothing more difficult - and nothing more life-giving - than following
Jesus.
But,
following Jesus is still offensive to the world – and sometimes maybe even
offensive to us.
It’s
difficult teaching that every human life in infinitely valuable – even,
especially, the people the world sees as insignificant and even disposable –
the poor, the uneducated, the undocumented, the disabled, the criminal.
It’s
difficult teaching, yet, it’s also life-giving to recognize the infinite value
of every human being.
It’s
difficult teaching that we must offer unlimited forgiveness – that we must not
seek revenge – that greed is bad – that we should give not just some fixed
percentage of our wealth or just some of our talents - but we should give and
give until it hurts.
It’s
difficult teaching, yet it’s also life-giving, to give ourselves away in loving
generosity and service.
It’s
difficult teaching that we must care for and love one other – the people
closest to us, the people we’ve never met and never will, the people we can’t
stand and even the people who hate us and hurt us.
This
is all difficult teaching. Following Jesus is much, much more difficult work than
even a week of roofing in West Virginia.
We’re
not so different from those disciples back in the First Century. Even though
we’ve also seen Christ at work in our lives, we can be tempted to throw up our
hands, and say, “This teaching is difficult. This teaching is offensive. This
teaching is too hard. Who can accept it?”
We
can give up, walk away from Jesus and live like everybody else.
But,
fortunately, we’re not on our own.
Working
together, supporting each other, was a big part of what made the difficult work
of the mission trip life-giving.
We
come here each week in part to support each other – because the Christian life
is difficult and we need each other.
Finally,
most important of all, we have Jesus. Each week we gather at the Lord’s Table,
where in some mysterious way, we take the Body and Blood of Christ into our
bodies, into our hearts, and into our souls.
We
abide in Jesus and Jesus abides in us, giving us the strength to hear the
difficult teaching of Jesus – and giving us the strength to do the most difficult,
yet most life-giving, work of following Jesus.
Amen.