On Friday I had a colonoscopy. It wasn’t so bad . . . at least not as bad as
I imagined it would be after hearing hundreds of horror stories. It really wasn’t that bad. Drinking the stuff—the ironically named GO-Lytley—to clean out the bowels, wasn’t
so bad . . . it was just a lot of it.
Nor was dealing with the results of drinking the GO-Lytley and having to spend time in the library for a couple of
hours. Nope, none of that was too
difficult to handle . . . inconvenient, but not difficult; what was no fun was
not being able to eat after a simple breakfast of Cheerios and toast on Thursday morning until late Friday
afternoon. That was nearly unbearable.
By Friday morning I was starving. My stomach was growling . . . either due to
the lack of food or the remnants of the GO-Lytley
. . . I was growling. I was getting
grumpy due to the lack of food. Our
dogs, two Dachshunds—also known as “wiener dogs”—were getting nervous whenever
I looked at them . . . visions of hot dogs on the grill kept flashing before my
eyes. I was hungry . . . really
hungry. But orders are orders and I was
not to have any food after breakfast on Thursday morning . . . nearly 31 hours
without food. I thought I was going to
die . . .
But, as you can see . . . I am
here. I am alive. Immediately after the procedure on Friday
afternoon I made my wife take me straight to the nearest restaurant where I
proceeded in eating like a pig . . . no, I take that back . . . a pig would
have been embarrassed by the way I dug into that food.
I am going to admit that I have a
dependency on food. We all do. We all need food in order to live. Food is the fuel that keeps us going. Without food, we die. I realize that I was not going to die from
going without food for 31 hours despite what my mind was telling me; and, I
also know that what I endured is nothing like those people throughout our world
who do not have enough to eat . . . who are actually starving. But, man was I hungry.
We are depend on bread for life.
Our scripture reading this morning is
a continuation of the story of the feeding of the five thousand we heard a
couple of weeks ago. In that story Jesus
meets the physical needs of the people for food . . . he feeds them with two
fish and five loaves of bread. It was a
pretty miraculous feat that he pulled off and the people were impressed. They were impressed that he fed them . . . so
impressed that many of them realized that they were—in that moment—in the
presence of the Holy. Something “holy”
had happened and now they wanted more of it.
So, they followed Jesus over to the
other side of the lake after he had snuck out during the night. Now they were confronting him and demanding
more . . . they wanted more bread . . . they wanted more of the “holy” that
they had experience. But they did not
understand completely what it was that they were really seeking . . . they did
not see the act of feeding all of them as something that was more symbolic and
metaphorical of a greater hunger needing to be fed. It was not bread that they were seeking, but
the “bread of life”.
Jesus could see that they didn’t quite
grasp the implications of what had happened . . . he could see that they didn’t
quite understand; so, he tried . . . he tried real hard to explain to them the
difference between what they had received and what they really needed. There is “bread” and then there is the “bread
of life”. One feeds the body, the other
feeds the soul. You can go to any market
and buy the bread that feeds the body, but you can only receive the bread that
feeds the soul—the “bread of life”—through Jesus.
Jesus is the “bread of life”.
Now remember, we human beings are
concrete thinkers. When Jesus tells the
people: “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If a man eats of this bread, he will live
forever. This bread is my flesh, which I
will give for the life of the world.” As concrete thinkers this does not make any
sense . . . and, on top of it all, it goes against all the rules and tenets of
the Jewish faith . . . it reeks of cannibalism.
Their response to Jesus? “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?”
The people are hungry . . . they are
longing for food—for bread—that satisfies the hunger. In this story, as far as the people are
concerned, it is actual bread that is the focus, but in reality it is more. They cannot see beyond the words that he uses
. . . “flesh and blood” . . . a gory, yucky proposition forbidden by God way
back there in Genesis 9:3-4 where God forbids Noah and his family from eating
blood. Besides, the people might not get
what Jesus is attempting to explain to them, but they are not stupid. There is only one of Jesus . . . how in the
world would ever be able to offer himself—his flesh and blood—to feed the
multitudes of people before him?
When Jesus invites the people—and
us—to eat his flesh and drink his blood, he invites us to ingest God’s Word, to
feast on God’s light, God’s life, God’s truth, God’s love. He invites us into a relationship . . . an
intimate relationship . . . with God that allows us the opportunity to be
healed of our ancient wounds and to live once again in ways that truly satisfy
our deepest longing—our longing to live in ways that truly reflect our love
affair with God and with one another. It
is not his physical body that Jesus is offering, but his life as an example . .
. even to the point of giving one’s life for another as he did for us.
In the life of Jesus is the “bread of
life”. In the words that he speaks . . .
he gives life. In the actions that he
takes . . . he gives life. In the
miracles and healings he performs . . . he gives life. In the way that he relates to others—with
care, grace, and love . . . he gives life.
In the way that he takes the time to pray, worship, and love God . . .
he gives life. Jesus said, “I am
the living bread that came down from heaven.” Through him comes life . . . everlasting life
. . . sustaining life.
Thus the invitation to “eat his flesh
and drink his blood” is an invitation to embrace him and his life as our lives
. . . to become like him in our lives.
It is to walk as Jesus walked . . . talk as Jesus talked . . . love and
care as Jesus did . . . to pray and worship as Jesus did . . . to become like
him. To become like him and to live our
lives as he lived his. This is to “eat
the flesh and drink the blood”. This is
to discover the bread that always feeds . . . the bread that sustains . . . the
bread that promises eternal life. That
is the invitation that Jesus offers to the people in the story and to us.
Needless to say, not everyone is going
to jump up and down and join Jesus after this little speech. No, there will be those who walk away from
the invitation . . . those who turn their backs because they either don’t get
it or they don’t want it. But, that is
okay. That is their choice. The invitation is just that . . . a choice. A choice to accept or to decline. To eat or not to eat. It is up to each individual who hears the
invitation.
Which brings it back to us this
morning. We have been invited to receive
the “living bread” . . . bread that is Jesus himself. We have been invited to come and “eat of his
flesh and drink of his blood” . . . a symbolic and metaphorical invitation to
come and live life with God through the life of Jesus. The invitation, like the gift we receive, is
eternal . . . it is always there. The choice
always remains ours . . . to eat or not to eat.
That is always the question.
Amen.
I like a sermon that begins with a personal story...even if it's a colonoscopy story.
ReplyDeleteWith ten year intervals you'll have enough of them to get used to it.