To Whom Shall We Go?

Proper 16B; John 6:60-69; St. Paul’s, 8/26/2018

Jim Melnyk: “To Whom Shall We Go?”

I can almost hear Peter talking with the other 11 disciples sitting to the side at the synagogue in Capernaum.  “I just wish Jesus would talk to me before he goes off on one of these ‘I am’ binges.  If he’d just call me and say, ‘Peter, I’m going to give them the “Bread of Life” talk,’ I’d be able to say, ‘Don’t think it’s a good idea, Jesus.’  But he doesn’t ask.  He never asks!  And now look at what’s happening.  Attendance is going down and the collection is going to be shot!  Why doesn’t he ask our opinion before he gets all wild and crazy like that?”

Somehow, in my musings, Jesus knows what Peter is saying to the others – perhaps because he’s heard the larger group’s murmurings about his talk of being the Bread of Life come down from heaven.  He’s seen the crowds around him dwindling – perhaps even a few well-known faces have disappeared.  “So, are you going to ditch out on me too?” He asks the twelve.  “Have I offended you as well?  Have I shaken your faith that much, or (in the literal sense of the Greek), have I scandalized you to the point of turning away from me as well?”

And then, despite the somewhat bizarre nature of Jesus’ discourse, comes the Johannine version of Peter’s confession of faith: “Lord, to whom shall we go?  You have the words of eternal life, and we have come to believe, and are convinced, that you are the Holy One of God” (translation by Raymond Brown, paraphrased).  We can imagine Peter saying, and may want to say along with him ourselves, “Look Jesus, we don’t understand all this stuff about bread from heaven, about the descending and ascending of the Son of Man, about eating your flesh or drinking your blood – which even you have to admit sounds a bit strange, Jesus.  We don’t understand – and can hardly believe – what our own eyes saw and our own tongues tasted back by the sea shore when we sat on the grass and ate our fill of bread and fish.”

“But we know there is something about you that we haven’t experienced or known anywhere else, or any other time in our lives.  We know how you make the stories of our faith come alive; and how you make our hearts dance with anticipation and joy even in the midst of the fears we feel when we think about what following you may cost us.”

“We know,” says Peter, “We know what ‘I am’ implies every time you use that phrase.  And we know the Mystery you’re invoking when you speak of the manna that fed our mothers and fathers in the wilderness, and we don’t quite know how to deal with the idea of ‘living bread;’ of manna that sustains the heart and the soul as much, or rather more, than it sustains the physical body.”

“But as unbelievable as this all is, Jesus, there is something about you that tells me – that tells us – to believe.  And so we do – and so I do believe.  You are the Holy One of God.  In you – through you – by you – we see God.  Where else can we go?”

When you think about it, do followers of Jesus react any differently today in the midst of our twenty-first century skepticism?  We gather together to worship God every Sunday – centering our worship, our praise, and our prayers in the Christhood of Jesus, even though we may find some of the straight-forward teachings by Jesus about social justice, and about the peace and love of God, both challenging and difficult – even when we’re not always sure we want to live those truths out in our lives – or see them lived out in our communities.

Something happens to the early followers of Jesus that changes their understanding of who he is – that gives them the courage to not only believe what Jesus has told them, but that allows them to embrace the radically inclusive call of Jesus that welcomes all into the kingdom of God.  That something is resurrection. The pre-crucifixion Jesus of Nazareth becomes the Risen Christ of faith who shakes peoples’ lives like thunder, and who changes them from disciples to apostles –followers of Jesus who now proclaim his teachings, and who now proclaim him as the Holy One of God – the One who has come into this world to once again make us one with God. 

Those who leave Jesus in John 6 cannot see beyond the down-to-earth humanity of Jesus.  Living Bread makes no sense on a practical, what-my-senses-can-tell-me level.  “Eat my flesh and drink my blood” makes no sense to anyone absent the meal of Holy Eucharist and accordingly must be understood within that context – something those who stuck out their discipleship through Easter Day and beyond are finally able to comprehend. (William M. Johnson, Synthesis Today, 8/22/2018).

The Gospels challenge us constantly – especially words like those we read in the sixth chapter of John.  Our temptation as followers of Jesus – down through the ages – is to find ways to tame the words and examples we receive in the Gospels.  I recently read a comment by an Episcopal priest remarking that we humans often attempt to “be more spiritual than God” despite the concrete and often rather blunt examples that confront us chapter to chapter and verse to verse (Charles Hoffacker, Synthesis Today, August 23, 2018).

Ever and always we who choose to follow Jesus live a balancing act between understanding him as someone who walked the streets of Galilee and Jerusalem, someone who tells us to feed the poor, to love our enemies, to repent and return, to trust in God, to share our bounty, and to love one another as he has loved us; and on the other hand, a Jesus who raised people from the dead, was crucified, died and was buried, who harrowed the gates of hell, and was himself raised from the dead.

And so, we are confronted by a Jesus who not only breaks bread with outcast and privileged alike – a Jesus who reminds us of our need to feed and nurture one another – but we are also confronted by a Jesus who, in the mystery of God, is the very Living Bread which feeds and nourishes our souls.  And because of that we are called – we are challenged – we are commanded by Jesus – to live in both realities as well.  We cannot ignore the needs of our world – the needs of our neighbors – the needs of the person sitting in the pew next to us this morning and every morning.  Jesus doesn’t give us a pass on compassion and care toward others.  The work we’re called to as followers of Jesus is meant to be concrete expressions of the generous love of God made known to us in Christ.  Things like food, shelter, safe schools and affordable medical care are concrete expressions of our faith.  Thoughts and prayers, absent at least our willingness to combine them with action, are not. The gift of Christ’s body and blood – concrete examples of Christ’s love for us – is the spiritual food that strengthens us to follow Jesus faithfully and love one another fully.

The experience of Peter and his colleagues, whether walking the dusty roads of Galilee with the very human Jesus, or experiencing the Risen Christ in an upper room, or at breakfast along the shore, was always the same – a call to continue the work of Christ – a call to embody Christ in their daily lives.  This is our calling as well – for indeed, we have chosen to call ourselves followers of Jesus.  At times that calling may feel a bit overwhelming – we may think to ourselves, “Why not just walk away from it all?”  And then we recall Peter’s response to Jesus: “Lord, to whom shall we go?  We have come to believe, and are convinced, that you are the Holy One of God.”