Melnyk's Musings: Got Bread? Got Jesus?

Proper 14B John 6:35, 41-51; St. Paul’s Smithfield, NC 8/9/2015

Jim Melnyk: “Got Bread? Got Jesus!”

As we move into the third week from the Bread of Heaven Discourse in John’s Gospel it’s almost like listening to Monday Night Wrestling: “Let’s get ready to Grrr-Ummm-Ble!” Everything was cool while the loaves and the fish were being passed around and everyone’s bellies were getting filled, but then Jesus decides to explain the inward and spiritual meaning behind the outward and visible signs of the seemingly never-ending supply of food.

"I am the bread of life,” says Jesus. “Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty” (6:35). John gives us his version of Jesus running up against the wall of those who thought they knew him – and his family for that matter – more than he knew himself, and it should remind us of the negative reception Jesus experiences in his hometown as we hear about it in the other gospels.

Now at this point it’s important to point out that John uses the term “the Jews” for those who are upset with Jesus, and we have to be very careful with how we consider John’s use of the term. It’s both “ambiguous and problematic” for those of us following Jesus two thousand years later – especially when we recall that both “Jesus and his disciples are also clearly ‘Jews’” (Richard Manly Adams, Jr., Feasting on the Gospels: John, vol. 1, page 195). “Though the crowd’s Jewish identity is evident in the reference to ‘our ancestors’ (6:31), the use of ‘the Jews’ [by John] singles out those [particular] Jews who do not follow Jesus. The term is not meant, nor can it be used, to identify all Jews as opponents of Jesus,” and we are best served if we see this as John’s understanding of an in-house argument between Jewish followers of Jesus and those who stand in opposition. But they are all Jews in this passage (ibid).

John then introduces a new verb at this point in the gospel, egongyson, which gets translated as “complain,” “grumble,” or “murmur.” Although it is making its first appearance in John’s Gospel, it is the same word used in the Greek translation of the Old Testament to describe the complaining or the murmuring of the Israelites in the wilderness “during the time when God was providing manna (Exod. 17:3; Num. 11:1; 14:27-29; 16:41; 17:5; cf. Isa. 29:24; 30:12)” (ibid). Those who stand in opposition to Jesus begin to grumble or complain among themselves "Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know?” They thought. “How can he now say, `I have come down from heaven'?" (6:41). Like their ancestors, they cannot believe what they are experiencing – God’s constant desire to provide for God’s people from the very beginning of time.

Jesus reminds them – and reminds us – that God indeed provided the Israelites with manna – the bread that came down from heaven in the wilderness. But he also reminds them that while Israel’s ancestors ate the manna they still died (6:49).

Those who were dissatisfied among those in the wilderness didn’t understand that while the manna was God’s ongoing gift to sustain them in the wilderness, the Torah – the Teachings of God – the Torah was the true bread given Israel to enliven their souls. As Jesus, quoting Moses, tells the Tempter in the wilderness, “One does not live by bread alone, but every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Deut. 8:3; Matt. 4:4).

Jesus comes on the scene in Galilee and feeds the multitude with a picnic seemingly conjured out of thin air, and once again those who receive this marvelous bread from heaven fail to understand that the true bread that would enliven their souls had nothing to do with the bread and the fish handed out that day, but had everything to do with the One standing before them.

In John’s gospel Jesus doesn’t speak about the Last Supper in his Passion Narrative, giving us the Foot Washing instead – commandments to love and serve one another – commandments to set our hearts upon God – to put our trust in God. Rather, John Eucharistic language is found in this passage – this is John’s explanation of the self-giving action by Jesus that will become the basis for what we celebrate together each Sunday in this place. Long before we get to the Upper Room and the cross in John’s gospel Jesus tells us what it will all be about – and as we will see in the coming weeks, many of his followers find his talk of flesh and food too difficult to handle.

John is our preeminent theologian of the Incarnation – the Word becomes human flesh and dwells among us. And John presents us with a Jesus who minces no words when it comes to the meaning of his death and how we are to remember it in so tangible a way. “The bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh” (6:51). And while I am in no way a Biblical literalist – that is, I do not take the whole of Scripture literally in every instance – I am quite certain that I am meant to take Jesus at his word here: The Word of God made human flesh, who comes to dwell among us as one of us, gives up his life – gives up his flesh – for the life of the world. And we as followers of Christ – in the infinite mystery that is God – somehow take that very presence of Christ – the very body and blood of Christ – into ourselves every time we partake of his body and blood in the Eucharist.

Author Michaela Bruzzese writes, “In the third sequence of readings with food imagery, we find we cannot possibly hope to complete our journey to spiritual maturity without the right nourishment and determination” (Michaela Bruzzese. Sojourners Online, Preaching the Word, 8/9/2015).

She goes on to say, “In John's telling of the bread-of-life discourse, Jesus hints at exactly what kind of passion and discipline is required. The verbs used in this sequence, while translated as the more general word ‘eat’ in English, were originally the Greek words used to describe eating in a ravenous, animal-like nature, closer to ‘gnaw’ – [which, I suspect, might offend our more polite Episcopal sensibilities. But] this usage emphasizes the true fleshiness of Jesus' body, and therefore its suitability as real food for the journey. Don't be fooled” Bruzzese concludes, “Christianity is not a tea party, and the Eucharist is not a platter of tea sandwiches. Christianity is a difficult journey, with deserts to cross and mountains to climb, and the Eucharist is the only real food suitable for the task (ibid).

You know by now there’s always a Facebook meme going around that has something to say about what’s going on in the gospel for the day. One I saw recently shows a priest holding the host up for all to see. The caption reads, “Body of Christ – You are what you eat.” And to that I say, “Amen!” Christianity isn’t a tea party. It’s meant to be difficult. Good Lord, the One we follow was crucified by Rome because he was a threat to the status quo – a challenge to a way of life that objectified human beings for their own gain.

We are what we eat. Some of us choose to eat the bread of bitterness, wrath, anger, of arguing and malice - and not only that, but we revel in it! That's just the way I am, angry and bitter and you just have to accept me and what I say and do and like it. Some of us choose to eat the bread of murmuring and grumbling even in the midst of God’s constant provision - the Eyores of life - woe is me, woe is me. But some of us choose to eat the bread of kindness, of tenderheartedness, of compassion, and forgiveness – which is the body of Christ. We get to choose the bread we eat. We, therefore, get to choose who and what we become.

When we participate in the Holy Eucharist – when we partake of Christ’s body and blood – we leave this place carrying the very presence of the living Christ within us – within us! We do not go out into the world alone. We become what we eat – we become the presence of Christ to the world. As it is written in the Talmud: “God has no other language than human beings” (Synthesis Today Quote for August 4, 2015), and we might add Christ has no other body but our bodies – no other heart but our hearts – no other tangible sign of love but our love for the world.