Pentecost 13 L21 B
Posted on Sun 23 August 2015 in misc
We’ve spent the last month in the Gospel and the messages talking about Jesus. Well, I guess we talk about Jesus every week, but this is the final of five weeks in which we’ve been exploring the specific question ‘who is Jesus?’ with the help of this sixth chapter of the Gospel of John. Jesus, for his part, answers the question by describing himself as the Bread of Life. When many of his followers heard Jesus say this, they said, “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?”
It’s hard to imagine what it was like to follow Jesus before there was such a thing as Christians and the established church. It’s easy to forget how challenging the message of Jesus was. For one thing, what do you think of when Jesus says “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them” …?
You probably hear those words, flesh and blood, and think, oh! communion. Eat the bread, drink the wine — no cannibalism required. The first followers of Jesus to hear these words, however, wouldn’t know anything about Communion. It must have sounded strange, actually: offensive.
In fact, a lot of things that we assume or take for granted about Jesus only came about after his death and resurrection and the formation of the church. Now, in many ways, this is a good thing: we have the benefit of 2,000 years of scholars, really smart people, really brave people, and often really normal people who have helped us to understand Jesus. Maybe you, somewhere along the line, read a book, heard a sermon, or had a conversation with a friend that opened your eyes to the presence of Jesus in your life.
But there’s a downside to this 2,000 year old baggage that comes with Christianity: not everything that people have said and believed about Jesus is true. Misconceptions range from ridiculous to ubiquitous. For example, there’s the quote, “If English was good enough for Jesus, it’s good enough for me.” Which, by the way, is attributed to several politicians, but probably wasn’t actually said by them. But then there are things about Jesus that we North American Christians almost can’t get away from because they seem almost built in to our religion and one is our belief that Jesus was a very sweet gentleman that looked like we do, and sounded like we do, and said things that were nice and mostly common sense.
We don’t often picture Jesus as offensive and saying shocking things that drive away even his followers. Or, preaching a sermon, as he does in the Gospel of Luke, that makes the congregation so mad that they chase Jesus out of the synagogue and try to — really — throw him off a cliff. Maybe we think about the artistic depictions of Jesus driving out the money changers, but we rationalize: that must have just been an ‘angry day’ for Jesus.
Here in today’s Gospel reading, though, Jesus isn’t just ‘having a moment.’ Jesus is teaching in the synagogue, and his words offend — actually ‘scandalize’ is the word — the listeners. Just like God asked the people of Israel to trust the miracle of Manna — food, bread that God provided in the desert — Jesus calls on the people to trust that he has the words of eternal life.
Jesus calls us to trust that God has sent him as a gift and if you’re wondering why the followers were upset: this is what is so offensive.
When God was caring for the people of Israel as they wandered through the desert, God promised to provide enough for them by raining down this Manna, bread from heaven. This is one of my favorite stories from the book of Exodus in the Old Testament. They had to go out and collect the manna day by day (except for the Sabbath) in order to be fed.
Sounds like a great deal, except, they did exactly what you or I would be tempted to do in the same situation. They began to think…this is really great that God is providing for us for today…but what if it doesn’t come tomorrow? Maybe, I’d better start stockpiling this stuff so I’ll always have enough (and maybe I can even sell the stuff to my neighbors for a little cash.) They found out, though, that it didn’t work that way. And when the Manna spoiled the Israelites were confronted with their own lack of faith — lack of trust — that God will provide each day.
This is the ultimate scandal, the most offensive thing you can tell me as a human: that I am not in charge. That I cannot save myself. That I have to put my trust in something other than me.
And because this is the message that Jesus was entrusted with to share with the world, he wasn’t called ‘nice’ by the people he shared it with. More like: offensive.
Now, saying that Jesus was offensive and scandalous is not about trying to make Jesus seem edgy or cool. Jesus is not trying to be offensive in the Gospel stories because he wants a bad-boy image. Jesus delivers a message that is challenging and downright revolutionary because we face things in our lives that require more than a Jesus who is just nice.
If you have faced the loss of a loved one, or the insult of injustice…if you have deep questions about why things happen the way that they do: I have a feeling that nice Jesus isn’t going to cut it for you.
The message and life of Jesus is not something to make us feel better, it’s a direct challenge to anything and everything in life that does not lead to trust in God. Jesus is indeed offensive to anything in our lives that we would turn into an idol, or anything that would claim to save us.
Jesus challenges the trust we put in ourselves to be our own gods, to white-knuckle our own way through the ups and downs of life.
And Jesus challenges the systems around us that steer us away from trusting God and loving our neighbor. Things like our deep cultural biases…economic forces that treat people like slaves…prejudices and fears that drive us to stockpile our own things instead of sharing them with our neighbors.
These are the things that the apostle Paul writes about in the sixth chapter of Ephesians that we heard read today:
“For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” (Ephesians 6.12 NRSV)
Our enemies are not the people on ‘the other side.’ They are all around us; they are within us.
After Jesus finishes his scandalous teaching in the synagogue in Capernaum, many of his followers turn back, turn away, stop following. And Jesus, not so gently, I think, turns to his twelve disciples and asks: What about you? Do you also wish to go away?
And for all their faults and fumbles — this is what makes the twelve disciples true followers of Jesus. Not that they were perfect. Not that they were particularly intelligent or morally pure. It’s not that they could do it themselves, it’s that they knew they couldn’t.
Notice that when Jesus asks them if they want to go away, that they don’t actually answer the question. Because, yes, they probably do. In the face of this challenge, we all wish we could turn away.
But the twelve disciples don’t turn away.
Maybe Jesus has already convinced them of what was most important. Maybe they had already experienced for themselves this hard truth:
That everything in life that isn’t God’s love either already has or eventually will let you down.
What makes the twelve disciples…disciples is that they recognize they have nowhere else to turn to.
We don’t need a nice God. We need one that will remain when everything else fades away.
And so we confess just as Peter does: “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”