“The Gospel of John is a veritable symphony of incomprehension.” Bishop William Willimon, in Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 3, p. 309.
We are launching a Lent of incomprehension. And I, for one, couldn’t be more excited. I know, it seems odd. Isn’t my job to make sense of things? Aren’t I a communicator, and shouldn’t I be marked down if folks come out of a worship or learning experience with a look of puzzlement on their faces? Didn’t I fail at my task in confusion reigns?
Well, I used to think so. Still do, if I’m honest. I want everyone to get it. Get it? I want a morning’s worth of ah-ha moments. I want insight and understanding, I want clarity and decision, I want commitment and determination. That’s what I want. Certainly, I do.
So, to help get us there, I chose a Lenten series on the “I Am” sayings in the Gospel of John. The veritable symphony of incomprehension, that gospel. You know, the he didn’t get it one. The she missed the point narrative. The “and the crowd threw up their hands in confusion and wandered of bewildered” story of Jesus.
I know that some of these sayings are favorite verses of many. “I am the Good Shepherd.” “I am the Gate.” “I am the Bread of Life.” But almost all of them come in the midst of some of the most confusing dialogue in the whole bible. It almost sounds as though Jesus doesn’t really want people to get it. Like he is being deliberately obscure. Like he wants to leave us with mouths agape and fingers scratching wrinkled brows, and eyes looking in vain to see if anyone else has a clue.
John 6:26-35 Jesus answered them, "Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. 27 Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For it is on him that God the Father has set his seal." 28 Then they said to him, "What must we do to perform the works of God?" 29 Jesus answered them, "This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent." 30 So they said to him, "What sign are you going to give us then, so that we may see it and believe you? What work are you performing? 31 Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written, 'He gave them bread from heaven to eat.'" 32 Then Jesus said to them, "Very truly, I tell you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. 33 For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world." 34 They said to him, "Sir, give us this bread always." 35 Jesus said to them, "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.
See what I mean? A couple of weeks ago he was offering water so that we would never be thirsty, now he is offering bread so that we would never be hungry. No, he is bread. Is bread. Some argue this is a hint about communion. He is telling the church to be that one day we will engage in a ritual that will use bread to remind us of him. Well, sure. But there has to be more here than a future liturgical hint.
Maybe what we are tripping over here is not the bread. I know that seems to be the confusion. Jesus says to the crowds who have hunted him down that they were there for the wrong reasons. They were there to get something to eat. They were there to fill their bellies, to see that trick with the few loaves of bread that fed five thousand. But when Jesus points it out to them, they are surprisingly amenable to change. “Don’t work for food that perishes,” he says, “but for the food that endures for eternal life.” Well, duh, they say to him, that’s why we’re here. What you’ve been handing out is different than what we can pick up at Mejier’s or even Fresh Market! So, hand over that “special” stuff!
Wait, he said work for it. OK, what’s the work we’ve got to do? “Believe in the one whom God sent.” It was Lewis Carroll’s White Queen who claimed that in her youth she could believe six impossible things before breakfast. Is that the kind of workout that Jesus invites us to undertake? Get those believing muscles a-workin’!
There’s the rub, it seems to me. We don’t normally associate believing with work. Believing is a mental exercise, an internal activity that might be difficult but not really strenuous. Jesus is asking for an intellectual assent, right? He’s asking us to wrap our minds around the knowledge of who he is. He wants us to understand, and agree, to sign on the dotted line of faith. Right?
Wrong. I think that this is why we (and they, those first followers struggle with it too) are so confused by what Jesus has to say. Jesus never asks for understanding. He doesn’t come and say “figure me out!” “I’m a puzzle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma and once you puzzle it out you’ve got it made!” Like some holy Rubik’s cube, or those golf tee peg things at Cracker Barrel. Figure it out and you win, faith becomes easy.
Jesus isn’t some puzzle to solve, but a companion to walk with. When Jesus invites us to believe in him, he isn’t talking about an intellectual exercise as much as an act of will. He is asking us to put our lives in his hands. To commit to living the way he lives, to dedicate our lives to the priorities that he holds, to becoming like him, loving like him. That’s the work he invites us to enter. The is the bread he invites us to consume.
You are what you eat. That’s the faith declaration that Jesus claims in this passage. So, eat this bread, drink from this belief. And what you will find is that which you have longed for, that which you have hungered for is already within you.
Bread is the staple of life, some argue. It is the ubiquitous food that sustains and fills. It represents what we need to survive. It stands for the sign of our dependance, but also our ability to be nourished by what is provided. Bread is an acknowledgment that we do indeed hunger but also that we know how to fill those hungers.
Got bread?
Shalom,
Derek
We are launching a Lent of incomprehension. And I, for one, couldn’t be more excited. I know, it seems odd. Isn’t my job to make sense of things? Aren’t I a communicator, and shouldn’t I be marked down if folks come out of a worship or learning experience with a look of puzzlement on their faces? Didn’t I fail at my task in confusion reigns?
Well, I used to think so. Still do, if I’m honest. I want everyone to get it. Get it? I want a morning’s worth of ah-ha moments. I want insight and understanding, I want clarity and decision, I want commitment and determination. That’s what I want. Certainly, I do.
So, to help get us there, I chose a Lenten series on the “I Am” sayings in the Gospel of John. The veritable symphony of incomprehension, that gospel. You know, the he didn’t get it one. The she missed the point narrative. The “and the crowd threw up their hands in confusion and wandered of bewildered” story of Jesus.
I know that some of these sayings are favorite verses of many. “I am the Good Shepherd.” “I am the Gate.” “I am the Bread of Life.” But almost all of them come in the midst of some of the most confusing dialogue in the whole bible. It almost sounds as though Jesus doesn’t really want people to get it. Like he is being deliberately obscure. Like he wants to leave us with mouths agape and fingers scratching wrinkled brows, and eyes looking in vain to see if anyone else has a clue.
John 6:26-35 Jesus answered them, "Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. 27 Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For it is on him that God the Father has set his seal." 28 Then they said to him, "What must we do to perform the works of God?" 29 Jesus answered them, "This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent." 30 So they said to him, "What sign are you going to give us then, so that we may see it and believe you? What work are you performing? 31 Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written, 'He gave them bread from heaven to eat.'" 32 Then Jesus said to them, "Very truly, I tell you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. 33 For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world." 34 They said to him, "Sir, give us this bread always." 35 Jesus said to them, "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.
See what I mean? A couple of weeks ago he was offering water so that we would never be thirsty, now he is offering bread so that we would never be hungry. No, he is bread. Is bread. Some argue this is a hint about communion. He is telling the church to be that one day we will engage in a ritual that will use bread to remind us of him. Well, sure. But there has to be more here than a future liturgical hint.
Maybe what we are tripping over here is not the bread. I know that seems to be the confusion. Jesus says to the crowds who have hunted him down that they were there for the wrong reasons. They were there to get something to eat. They were there to fill their bellies, to see that trick with the few loaves of bread that fed five thousand. But when Jesus points it out to them, they are surprisingly amenable to change. “Don’t work for food that perishes,” he says, “but for the food that endures for eternal life.” Well, duh, they say to him, that’s why we’re here. What you’ve been handing out is different than what we can pick up at Mejier’s or even Fresh Market! So, hand over that “special” stuff!
Wait, he said work for it. OK, what’s the work we’ve got to do? “Believe in the one whom God sent.” It was Lewis Carroll’s White Queen who claimed that in her youth she could believe six impossible things before breakfast. Is that the kind of workout that Jesus invites us to undertake? Get those believing muscles a-workin’!
There’s the rub, it seems to me. We don’t normally associate believing with work. Believing is a mental exercise, an internal activity that might be difficult but not really strenuous. Jesus is asking for an intellectual assent, right? He’s asking us to wrap our minds around the knowledge of who he is. He wants us to understand, and agree, to sign on the dotted line of faith. Right?
Wrong. I think that this is why we (and they, those first followers struggle with it too) are so confused by what Jesus has to say. Jesus never asks for understanding. He doesn’t come and say “figure me out!” “I’m a puzzle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma and once you puzzle it out you’ve got it made!” Like some holy Rubik’s cube, or those golf tee peg things at Cracker Barrel. Figure it out and you win, faith becomes easy.
Jesus isn’t some puzzle to solve, but a companion to walk with. When Jesus invites us to believe in him, he isn’t talking about an intellectual exercise as much as an act of will. He is asking us to put our lives in his hands. To commit to living the way he lives, to dedicate our lives to the priorities that he holds, to becoming like him, loving like him. That’s the work he invites us to enter. The is the bread he invites us to consume.
You are what you eat. That’s the faith declaration that Jesus claims in this passage. So, eat this bread, drink from this belief. And what you will find is that which you have longed for, that which you have hungered for is already within you.
Bread is the staple of life, some argue. It is the ubiquitous food that sustains and fills. It represents what we need to survive. It stands for the sign of our dependance, but also our ability to be nourished by what is provided. Bread is an acknowledgment that we do indeed hunger but also that we know how to fill those hungers.
Got bread?
Shalom,
Derek
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