John 6:1-21
Proper 12 / Year B
So I spent this week in deep thought, pondering a
question: Why did Jesus feed five thousand people in the wilderness? Before I disclose the definitive answer, what
do you think? Why did he feed them? Now, don’t overthink this! After all of my scholarly investigations and
meditative musings here is what I have discerned… Jesus fed them because they
were hungry!
And, as we will see over the next four Sundays, the
assigned Lectionary readings will direct our attention to the Eucharistic roots
of Jesus’ actions in this story. Taking,
blessing, breaking, and distributing are the essential elements of the
Eucharistic liturgy. So if Jesus gives
literal food to people because they are hungry, we might want to ask why he
gives Eucharistic food. If we don’t
overthink the question we just might conclude Jesus gives us Eucharistic food
because we need it. We cannot go through
life without experiencing spiritual pangs of hunger. Our souls will starve without what Jesus
freely offers.
I attended my first service of Holy Eucharist at an
Episcopal Church 39 years ago this month.
What I remember most about it was walking down the long center aisle,
passing through the chancel flanked on either side by the singing choir,
approaching the altar rail, and kneeling.
I was just a boy out of college, but sensed how the president of the
biggest bank in town had to do just what I did in order to receive
communion. We were all in this together
as equals before God; each of us having to assume a posture of humility before
the Lord in order to receive.
Maybe it was Presbyterian background with its
Puritanical leanings, but it didn’t take long for the ‘celebration’ of Holy
Eucharist to become for me a severe, penitential experience. Sunday worship became a time dutifully to
rehearse the litany of my sins and shortcomings from the previous week; always
promising with all my might to be a better person, only to go through the same
litany the following Sunday, and then the Sunday after that, and after that,
and… well you get the idea. Evangelicals
hold there is nothing we can do to merit our salvation because we are
hopelessly lost in sin. Grace, they
‘say’, comes only as God’s gift. Even
though I held to this doctrine in my head, it didn’t stop me from acting as if
I had to merit being worthy to receive communion. And when I didn’t and when I couldn’t, participating
in the Eucharist beat me down. Rather
than life-giving and life-affirming, it morphed into a destructive spiritual
exercise.
It took several years and far too many experiences to
tell in a single sermon how this changed for me; how I began to recognize Jesus
offers me the holy food and drink not because I deserve it, but because I need
it; how I came to embrace the notion this moment is not something I earn and it
is not something I deserve, rather it is something God offers to me as a sure
and certain sign of God’s unfailing love for me. I am still working to be a better person, but
now I do so knowing I am deeply and completely loved for who I am, just as I
am. Now I experience the road of
sanctification as a pilgrimage of wonder and grace, not as a forced march I am
bound to fail.
When my marriage ended 19 years ago I learned
something else about the Eucharist. I
began to attend a Saturday evening service at an Episcopal Church near where I
lived and for the first time since going to seminary was able to be a
worshipper rather than a worship leader.
This is when the Eucharist became a part of my ‘daily bread’ – what I
needed in order to survive the day. Why
did Jesus offer the Eucharistic food to me?
Because I desperately needed it in a way I had not needed it before or
since.
I have told you before about the Eucharistic service I
attended at the General Convention in Salt Lake City. It was a massive event with thousands of
people in attendance. Volunteer ushers
outfitted with red vests roamed the hall’s floor to assist and direct us. I was preoccupied throughout the service with
some personal things and I struggled to be present to the moment. The time came for our section and my row to
make our way to our communion ‘station’, which I did. After receiving communion I returned to my
seat, which happened to be on the aisle.
With my head bowed and eyes closed I was trying to pray, but still
distracted. Then an usher came up from
behind me, leaned down next to my ear, and said, “Did you get communion?” “I did,” I said in response. There was something about the person’s voice
that sounded so personal and intimate; it was not a whisper, but I was certain
no one else heard it. “Did you get
communion?” A second or two passed
before I opened my eyes and turned around to look at the person and when I did
no one was there. There was no usher to
be found anywhere near me.
“Did you get communion?” I had received
communion, but, preoccupied with my problems as I was, I did not get communion. I had gone through the motions, but had
missed the meaning. Most every Sunday
since, after I commune myself I ask the question, “Did you get communion?” Do you realize God loves you not because you
have always been successful and not because you have the perfect family and not
because you have never made a mistake and not because you are free of regrets
and not because you are not haunted by personal demons and not because your
belief in every Christian doctrine is rock-solid. God loves you because God loves you… and
there is nothing you can do about it!
Why did Jesus feed the 5000? Because they were hungry. Why does Jesus feed us with the Sacrament of
his Body and Blood? Because we need it. It is just that simple. God feeds us because God loves us.
