I know there will be some disappointment
that I do not focus on David’s big sin with Bathsheba this week. I was in discussions with colleagues who seem
to be reading it for the first time as a scene in which David sexually
harasses, if not outright rapes, the wife of another man. I suppose the #metoo movement has caused
people to see things in different lights, and that is a good thing. Certainly, many women in our congregation
would know the difficult situation in which Bathsheba finds herself today. The king finds her sexy and sends his guards
to fetch her. As Mel Brooks is fond of
saying, It’s good to be the king! And,
when confronted by the king’s demands, what can she say?
Just so we are all aware, this will be
known for the rest of Scripture as “David’s sin,” not Bathsheba’s. For all my colleagues and others in the
church who like to argue that God is misogynistic, particularly in the Old
Testament, He seems curiously silent about blaming Bathsheba in this story, if
He is misogynistic. I mean, after all,
had she not been sunbathing in plain sight of the king in that skimpy bikini or
whatever, the king would never have been tempted to sleep with her, have
accidentally fathered a child on her, tried to cover up his actions by
summoning her husband, and, when that did not work, been forced to kill the
husband to cover up the sin – that would be a misogynistic perspective. In this story, of course, David’s big sin is
brought into the light. He has to own
his actions. But that’s a sermon for
another day.
No, I am hopeful that we do not have too
many adulterers and those plotting murder to hide their adultery among us, as I
did not feel called to preach on that passage.
Instead, I was drawn to John’s Gospel.
Part of the draw, I am certain, has been discussions away from Advent
with clergy and folks not members of our parish. I recognize we live in a world that wants to
reduce Jesus’ standing in the world to that of prophet or wise man or hippie
who tapped into the eternal consciousness status. I know from my conversations these past three
years with Adventers that we are uncomfortable with some of the claims made by
the Church regarding Jesus and some of the stories told about Him. Yet, those stories are told and recorded
precisely so that you and I can figure out who Jesus is. Is He the Messiah, God’s Anointed, the
Redeemer and Savior of the world? Is he
a prophet of God? Is He a wise man? Is He a nut job?
The questions are by no means new, as I
remind the folks at Wrestling with Faith pretty much every month. Every generation has to deal with the claims
of and about Jesus. The Roman’s, of
course, accepted that only Caesar was a son of a god. If the Jew’s God existed, He was merely one
among a pantheon of gods, and not one particularly powerful. After all, Rome conquered Judea and then
later destroyed His Temple. Were the
Jewish God truly God, He would have protected His people against Rome and would
never have allowed the destruction of His Temple! That’s the way the world and the cosmos
worked as far as they were concerned. A
God becoming human? You have got to be
kidding! You and I would not be here
otherwise, but clearly people accepted back then the claims of and about Jesus
and chose to become His disciples, despite all the evidence regarding the way
the cosmos worked.
More recently, the struggle is just as
stark. CS Lewis, that wonderful
Christian apologist with an Anglican perspective bluntly put it that you and I
in the end must come to terms with only two conclusions. Either Jesus was a madman with delusions of
grandeur seldom seen in human beings, or He was precisely who He said He was,
the Savior and Redeemer of the world!
Our answer to that question of which was He has repercussions throughout
or life and even eternity.
A few months ago, during the Easter
season, I was reminded of that raging battle in a unique form. I know some Adventers watched Jesus Christ
Superstar with John Legend. I know, most
of us old folks tuned in to see Alice Cooper play Herod (that’s a sentence I
never thought I would hear come out of my mouth!), but NBC really wanted to
market John Legend as the star – it makes sense since he played Jesus. Perhaps the most famous song from that
musical is where Judas asks the question I just raised for us today. To that tune we all associate with this
musical, with the loud brass and Judas repeats the question “Jesus Christ,
Superstar. Do You think You’re what they
say You are? Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ,
Who are You? What have You sacrificed?”—You hear the words with the music,
don’t you? We should. The musical builds to that question, much as
the world’s is forced to confront it as well.
Andrew Lloyd Webber’s masterpiece simply deals with a question that has
resonated throughout human history for 2000 years. Who is He?
We switch this week from Mark to John and
begin a several week study of the sixth chapter of John’s Gospel. In part, we will begin a serious examination
of that question, who is Jesus, but we will also get some teaching on the
Sacraments and the idea of believing or faith.
We will also get a healthy dose of community. But, for the next several weeks, we will be
chewing on and gnawing on, who Jesus is.
By the way, you don’t appreciate it, but that’s a really good pun a few
weeks from now. The crowds, we are told,
continue to follow Jesus because of the healing miracles He is doing for the
sick. Jesus and the disciples retreat up
a mountain. When Jesus looks up, John
notes, Jesus saw the large crowd coming toward them.
This miracle and the Resurrection, you may
or may not know, are the only miracles shared in all four Gospels, but each
author has a little different perspective on the event recorded. Two details are important enough for John to
have shared with his intended audience.
First, the festival of the Passover is near. This little detail should be of incredible
importance to us. It sets the stage for
the entirety of chapter 6 and the Bread of Life discourse. There is no way that the events that unfold
over the next few weeks can be properly understood apart from the Exodus event
and Moses. Every person who is fed by
Jesus will be reminded of the Passover and Exodus and of the leadership of
Moses. The comparisons and contrasts
will be unavoidable. The second detail
is the fact that there is nothing among the people that can account for the
abundant provision that occurs. I know
idiotic preachers like to claim that sharing was the miracle here, there is no
way that so many people could be fed by five loaves and two fish. But, inspired by the innocent sharing of the
little boy, the crowd discovers it has enough to provide for all. Wrong!
Jesus provides, and provides abundantly.
All eat their fill because of Him, and the leftovers are more than
existed at the beginning of His provision.
The crowd understands that Jesus is responsible. They follow Him around for the rest of this
chapter and chew on His hard words precisely because they recognize the provision
that comes from Him. That is not to say
by any means that they will accept His claims, but they will wrestle with
them. Just as you and I must as well. .
. Just as significantly, we are given a pattern about unsurprised failure
here. One of the great frustrations of
those passionate about God is the fact that so many people water down His
claims or outright reject Him. Such
rejections and tempering’s are lamentable, but they are not surprising. Put differently, you and I should not be
discouraged when people reject God and His claims on their lives. Such happened when He was incarnate, just as
it happened prior and after. In the end,
of course, God gave us the freedom to choose, but that also means we must choose.
So, who is Jesus? Is He a prophet like Moses? John has set the stage by reminding us that
the time of this miracle is around the time of the Passover. Imagine the Fourth of July on steroids—that’s
what the Passover meant to Israel. We
offer burnt offerings and amazing fireworks because of unfair taxes. Passover was the time where the Jews reminded
themselves that God kept His covenant with their ancestors and heard their cry
in slavery in Egypt. God acted amazingly
to free them. What followed, of course,
was forty years of wandering and instruction, led by God’s prophet Moses. Each miracle in the Exodus story has
significance, but the feeding and watering miracles had a prominent focus in
the history of Israel. When Israel was
hungry, God fed them with manna. When
Israel needed water for themselves and their flocks, God provided clean rushing
water. When Israel grumbled about the
lack of meat, God gave them so much quail that it was coming out through their
nostrils. So, one of the significant
acts of God was to provide, and to provide abundantly, in the midst of starvation,
in the midst of thirst. Apart from the
cultivated land.
If I have done my job this morning, you
understand the cultural heritage of today’s Gospel narrative a bit better. There is, of course, one important
distinction. In the Passover narrative,
Moses never takes credit for doing the miracles. When Israel is hungry, Moses intercedes on
their behalf for food. God answers
Moses’ prayer with manna and the instructions of how to gather it. When Israel thirsts, Moses asks for
water. God tells Moses to strike the
rock, and Israel is watered in the desert wilderness. When Israel complains about the lack of meat
and that the manna has become distasteful, Moses intercedes with God, Who
promises flesh will be coming out their noses.
Again and again, whenever there is need, Moses intercedes and God acts. The plagues over Egypt, the parting of the
sea—name your favorite miracle. Never
does Moses believe, nor God’s people, that Moses did any of those might
acts! Always, each and every single
time, it is God acting. It is often left
to Moses to explain, but nowhere does Moses take nor is he given credit. All are attributed to God.
Contrast that with Jesus’ actions
today. In a precursor for our Eucharist,
Jesus takes, blesses, and then distributes.
Jesus Himself provides. He does
not need to intercede with God because He is God’s Son – a claim that will, by
the end of the chapter, cause many to fall away. There is no intercession, no hocus pocus, no
arguing with God. Jesus has compassion
on the 5000 and feeds them all until they are full. More amazingly, even after eating their fill,
there are more leftovers than original food!
Leave aside for a second the obvious imagery of twelve baskets. Just think of the physicallness, if you will,
of that provision. There are more
leftovers at the end of this feeding story than there was food to begin with!
I know that miracle bothers many. How can there be more food leftover? In the grand scheme of miracles, as if you
and I have daily encounters with them, which is harder to believe: that God
could raise a man from the dead or that He could generate so much food? I mean, if we believe, if we truly accept
that the Tomb was empty that Easter morning, what makes twelve baskets of
leftovers seem so implausible? If we
accept that God created everything, the heavens and the earth, all that is seen
and unseen, what would prevent Him later from creating more food for this
event?
Clearly, the folks in the crowd kind of
understand the significance of the meal.
They go to take Jesus by force and make Him king, and Jesus withdraws to
the mountain by Himself. But they seem
to forget after a while. Maybe they
don’t trust what they have seen and tasted; maybe their new hunger pains make
them forget what Jesus just did. Maybe
like us they doubt what they saw, what they tasted, what they understood. We are not told. In a short time, though, they will need to be
convinced all over again. In a short
time, Jesus will tell them they are chasing after the wrong provision. In a short time, most will reject His claim
as Lord and Messiah and God’s Son. And
they witnessed the miracle first hand.
If folks like that can fall away so easily, is it any wonder that we can
and do, 2000 years later and however many miles distant?
John, of course, is not done. The feeding of the 5000 ought to be enough
for one pericope, but John sees fit to include the events that happened later
that evening. When evening comes, the
disciples get into the boats to head back to Capernaum from Tiberias. Just to remind you all, many of Jesus’
disciples were from Capernaum, and a number of His Apostles were
fishermen. Getting in the boats to
transport around would not be that unusual, especially when travelling between
these two communities. A storm blows up,
but it is not the storm that terrifies them.
Instead, they see Jesus walking on the sea and coming near the boat and that terrifies them. Why?
Part of the fear, no doubt, is the unexpectedness of the event. Part of it, too, likely revolved around the
Canaanite and other ANE cultural teachings regarding the water. The ocean was, axiomatically, understood to
be the abode of chaos in many of the Mediterranean cultures. No doubt a few of the disciples worried that
the figure they saw walking towards them was the deity of chaos, possibly signifying
to them that their lives were ending.
Keep in mind, too, the disciples and
Apostles would also be steeped well in the Passover and Exodus time of
year. Who could not help see or hear of
such a story that time of year and wonder if it related to the parting of the
sea? Perhaps they related the event to
Psalms 77 or 107? Perhaps, unlike us,
they understand the polemic at play in this encounter. We miss it throughout the Old Testament as we
think we understand chaos and the forces of nature better. But nearly every time Scripture mentions the
oceans, it speaks of God as setting its boundaries, limiting its tides, playing
with its Leviathan’s like little guppies, and otherwise bringing order to
chaos. Every time Scripture speaks of
God ordering the great waters, it speaks that God is greater than the idols of
other nations and cultures. How would
you feel if the next time you were on a cruise in the Caribbean, I somehow
walked across the water to you to remind you to go to church, get your pledge
in, or chew you out for forgetting to get a substitute? Lol We’d both be pretty freaked out, would we
not? We are not told what the motivation
of the disciples is, we are told simply that they are terrified by what they
see.
Jesus, of course, speaks into that
terror. Literally. It is
I; do not be afraid. “Ego eimi” – It
is I – are the words spoken by God to Moses from Burning Bush. You would know it simply as the great I AM
statement. I won’t bore you with the
grammar lesson other than to say that His selection of this phrase seems intentional. Jesus could have just as easily said, “eimi,”
and announced it was Him. Instead, He
uses God’s self-identifying language from the Burning Bush, a self-identifying
effort that predates all those events celebrated in the Passover, which serves
as the background of all of this. Still
want to argue that Jesus did not know Who He was? Still want to believe that He was not who
they thought He was, the Son of God? In
the midst of the culmination of the Exodus event, the Passover, Jesus choses
the words that announced to Moses and Israel that Yahweh had not forgotten His
promises to Abraham & Sarah, Isaac & Rebekah, Jacob & Rachel, and
all the matriarchs and patriarchs! All
who longed for Messiah to appear would wonder if God was acting again!
What is the second half of His
answer? “Do not be afraid.” When you reflect upon your favorite stories
in Scripture that involve an encounter with God, what always follows the
introduction? “Do not be afraid!” When Abraham meets the travelers; when Jacob
wrestles with the Holy One, when the angels announce to Mary the impending birth,
or when angels tell Mary and the other women His is not dead, they always
instruct the human being not to be afraid.
Why? Because instinctively, when
we are in the presence of a holy, righteous, just, and etc God, we recognize our
own standing. Instinctively, we are
terrified. And were not God in the
business of relating to us, we would remain in terror. Rightfully so! Can God accept sin? Of course, not. Among His various revealed characteristics
are His holiness, righteousness, and justice.
He no more can accept sin in His presence than you or I can countenance
not breathing or blinking. And when
confronted with sin, what does God do?
He destroys it! Human beings are
right when they recognize the mortal danger of being in the presence of a righteous
and just God. Were He not willing to
credit our faith as righteousness, we could not stand before Him. None of us.
It is a hard word, is it not? It is incredibly hard to learn that we do not
deserve grace. It is a hard word to be
reminded that, were we left to our own devices, our own efforts, none of us
could approach God without fear. He is
not lucky that we chose Him; no, indeed, we are the lucky ones in this
relationship. And part of our reminder
over the next few weeks will be that God chose us, that we approach Him on His
terms, that we needed Him to stretch out His arms in that saving embrace on the
hard wood of the Cross 2000 years ago.
Always in the background of the next few weeks will be that reminder
that death passed us each over, just as it did our spiritual ancestors in
Egypt.
Why, do you think, are these two
narratives blended together? Why, do you
think, did not our lectionary editors separate them and add another week to the
sacramental lessons included? It seems
to me there are a couple important reasons to read them together. Often, when I pray before preaching or before
healings, I ask that God give us the eyes to see Him, ears to hear Him, and a
heart to understand Him. I see the
nods. Good, most of you have heard
it. Have you ever wonder why the
sacraments sing to you? Have you ever
wondered why you are in a liturgical church and happy that you are, even as
friends and families are just as content to be in churches that de-emphasize
the sacraments? Is there something wrong
with us. Is there something wrong with
them?
Think back to the response of the
crowd. How did they respond to the
feeding? They see the sign, understand
its meaning, and then misapply their brains to figure out what to do. Was Jesus making a messianic claim in the
feeding? You better believe He was. And if you doubt it, He will remind us in a
few verses that those who ate the bread distributed by Moses died but that
those who eat of His bread will live forever.
The crowd rightly perceives that Jesus is God’s Anointed, but they
wrongly interpret what that means. They
want to make Him a political figure, a king, but He is that and much, much
more! He is the Servant King, the true
Pastor, who has come down from heaven to ransom His people Israel. What chains them more effectively than any
Egyptian or Babylonian or Assyrian chains is sin. Thankfully for them and us, He understands
that even when they do not. And so He
rejects there attempts to fashion Him into a king of their own choosing. In a way, He saves them from a repeat of the
selection of Saul. They will struggle
with His refusal. They will wrestle with
His subsequent teachings. Many will even
reject Him and His claims. But in the
end, they will be reminded that He is who He claimed to be, the Son of God, the
Messiah. The meal, with all its Passover
overtones, will serve as a reminder to those of us who come after, of His
mission, of His love, and of the path He chose to walk to redeem each and every
one of us! To this breaking and
distributing we will add the reminders, the reminders that the bread we eat and
the blood we drink are His, given for our freedom from sin. And, just as significantly, we will remind
ourselves that it is a pledge of what is to come—a pledge given by God Hmself!
How about the disciples? The ones who had been with Him the most? How do they respond to the feeding and His
walking on water? Jesus asks Philip
where they are to buy bread to feed the crowds.
Philip mishears the question and focuses instead on the economics, the
price. Then, later, when confronted with
Jesus’ walking near the boat in the rough seas, how do they respond? They are terrified. Then, when they finally decide to take Him
into their boat, they immediately reach the land to which they were going. In one sense, maybe we should all feel better
about ourselves. If our ancestors misheard
Him, and they were physically with Him, maybe our failure to discern Him and
His voice is a bit more palatable given the way we relate to Him today. I hear the laughter and need to remind us all
that God expects us to see Him, hear Him, and notice where He is at work in the
world around us, and where He is calling each of us to serve Him in the world
around us. But misery and failure love
company, and God seems to revel in redeeming our failures. In another sense, though, we should realize
that Jesus is truly Lord over all the chaos in our life.
You and I live in a world that seems out
of control, nuts, and chaotic. We can be
punished for doing good deeds and rewarded for doing bad things. In some ways, we notice the upsidedownness of
world and wonder whether this Gospel is true.
Jesus’ walking on water reminds us that He is who He says He is and that
He does have the power to quell the chaos, to order the chaos, to use the chaos
to His glory. We need only to trust Him,
and He will see us to that ultimate destination.
But behind all that, of course, is the
setting for the teaching on bread and flesh.
This story, so far as John is concerned, serves as the foundation for
the famous discourse that will follow.
It serves also as a foundation for the Eucharist we will share in a few
moments. Each time we gather for that
pledge, that snack, that promise, we remind ourselves that He came down for us,
that He lived for us, that He died for us, that He was raised from the dead for
us, and that He will one day return for us.
It will serve as a foundation for the reminder that God’s provision is
abundant. And it will serve as a
reminder that, like the crowds and the disciples, that we can lose our focus,
that we can mis-see or mishear or even misinterpret God’s signs in the world
around us. What He offers us is both a
feast and so much more than a feast. It
seems fantastic. It seems of fairy
tales.
Which brings us back to the question? Who do you say that He is? Each time we gather, each time we ask God to
bless that bread and wine, to send His Holy Spirit to make them the flesh and
blood of our Lord, we are confronted with that question. Do we think Him a crazed or misled charlatan?
Do we think Him merely a wise man or sage?
Do we think Him simply another like Moses? Or do we believe that He really is the ego eimi of the Burning Bush, the Light
of the World, the Logos? Our answer to
that question, of course, determines how we are fed. If He is anyone or anything other than the
Son of God, there is no hope in this meal.
It’s a pleasant snack, but really pretty unfulfilling and not
particularly tasteful.
But, to use the language of Andrew Lloyd
Webber’s famous song, what if He is who they say He is? What if He sacrificed what they and He claim
He did? What if He was the Messiah? Then, my brothers and sisters, the claim on
each one of our lives is absolute. And
we do well to approach that Table with fear and trembling and anticipation,
cognizant of what it cost Him and what it truly offers each one of us! Life, and life abundant!
In
Christ’s Peace,
Brian†
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