John 6:51-58
Do you know the movie Groundhog Day? Bill Murray plays a guy who wakes up each day only to find himself reliving the same day over and over again? Well Sundays are starting to feel a little like Groundhog Day to me – because here we are again! Fourth Sunday in a row of Jesus saying - I am the bread of life, I am the bread of life, I am the bread of life – and I think – what more can I say?
But – surprise – the Spirit has led me to find more to say.
We are once again finding Jesus arguing with the faithful – the Jews – i.e. the churchgoers – about what he means when he says he is the living bread come down from heaven. But this time is the most explicit.
A colleague shared a story of being at church – and the priest was doing the Eucharist – the words of institution – take eat, this is my body given for you – and drink this my blood shed for you. And one of the younger members of the congregation – said in a voice louder than his parents probably wanted him too – ewww, gross.*
And yeah – that is a right on theological assessment and reaction to what Jesus is talking about.
Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me.
I’m hammering it home because I want it to really hit you for a minute. Because we hear these words at every Eucharist – which unfortunately dulls their edge. But imagine you have invited a good friend to church, someone who does not have a Christian background or frame of reference – and you hear those words through their ears. It’s cannibalistic – it’s weird, it’s gross.
I am telling you the truth – Jesus says – unless you eat my flesh and drink my blood you will not have life in yourself. For my flesh is the real food – and my blood is the real drink.
And when I really sit with those words, it hits me in that same way – it’s very off-putting. And I think what am I supposed to do with this? What does this Eucharistic language coming straight out of the mouth of Jesus have to do with my day to day? However deeply I dig into the scholarship and theology – what does the intellectual knowledge or symbolic understanding have to do with my life, and yours? How do I turn the metaphor into spiritual sustenance?
Well, what if it’s not intended to be a metaphor? In the beginning was God, and the word was with God and the word was God…and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. The Word became Flesh.
That’s the beginning of this morning’s shock value. The literal truth of the incarnation. The reality of God choosing to become a fleshy, vulnerable human being.
For the churchgoers of Jesus’ time – this explanation was just as outlandish and scandalous then as
now:
Gen 9:4 – But you must never eat flesh with its life, that is, its blood
Lev 3:17 – This is a perpetual law for you and your descendants, you must never eat fat or blood
Deut 12:23 – The only restriction is to never eat the blood, because the blood is the life and you must not eat the life with the meat.
I have a feeling everyone is going to be eating fish for dinner.
Jesus surely knows this. Jesus knows this goes against the law. He knows how uncomfortable this visceral description makes us. It’s not a neat moral teaching or faith of a mustard seed reminder – or homily like the beatitudes on blessings.
I hear it as Jesus describing in very powerful language that he is all in – all human. And if we want to be all in, if we want to experience the fullness of living – living as if everything matters – we have to take Jesus all in, mind, heart, body.
A good friend of mine, who is a priest, has been in Florida for the last month helping his mother care for his dying father. We had a long conversation this week, I hadn’t caught up with him since he went down – and he is in that liminal place that we get to sometimes, if we’re lucky, where we know what it means to live. He talked about this paradox of being with someone who is dying, a messy thing on a lot of levels, and knowing such profound joy.
In June, I led a one-night workshop at Well for the Journey, in Towson. One of the exercises we did was around naming your values – taking this long list – peace, love, joy, understanding, etc. – and whittling it down to two or three. And everyone, there were like 13 people – went and did the exercise on their own – and the only question we had time to discuss in the group was – name a time when you felt you were truly living into those values. And 4 out of that small group shared stories of being with a loved one as they died. This was totally unexpected to me. Yet, I know that paradox of being in the midst of the last thing you ever want to be in the midst of because it’s the hardest thing – yet, in the midst of it is the fullness of the most wonderful things.
Before those words of institution that echo this gospel – we say that God took on our human nature – became incarnate. God started as a baby, just like us. Which means entering so many hard things and so much messiness. And we’re having a baptism today – and I don’t want to be Debbie Downer preacher. So – how about the hard stuff and messiness babies bring! Literally – there’s the birth process, c’mon – then dirty diapers – there is messy food – there is incessant hand washing and purrelling to keep it clean, clean, clean.
There is the messiness of sleep deprivation and the upheaval of a household. And – as they grow there is the messiness of anxiety – and concern over where they are and who they’re with and what they’re doing – there is the messiness of being embarrassed by their behavior – what will people think of me as a mother if they see that?
Life and death – being human – it’s all messy – the hopes, dreams, concerns, anxieties, successes, failures, abandonment, loneliness, joy, sorrow, - it all gets messy – and sometimes ew, gross. So often it gets to the place – and I just don’t want to go there. Think about Baltimore, and other cities, it’s not at all uncommon for people to say and feel – it’s too messy, I just don’t want to go there.
I can get messy – Jesus says. Eww, gross – doesn’t scare me away – Jesus says. Its in his words – but mostly in his life and death – where we see just how literally Jesus delves – heart, mind and body – into redeeming the messiness of life.
This morning we hear Solomon ask – God, I don’t know my going out or my coming in. And we know from Psalm 121 that God responds – The Lord watches over your going out and your coming in, from this time forth forevermore. I think for the most part we have faith that God is with us in those times – in the beginnings and the endings.
But Jesus powerfully reminds us that inbetween – there is a body of life to live – and he is all in. And he wants us to be all in to. Which is why week by week we bring our bodies to the altar – or the church brings the body of Christ to our homes – to remind us – that whatever messiness your body is living through right now – Jesus is right there with you.
The promise Jesus gives this morning – and always – isn’t “and that’s how you get to heaven” – it’s “and that’s how you live your life.” A wholehearted life – unafraid of the joys, the sorrows and all the messy parts.
Come to the table – take God in – invite God into all the messiness. Amen.
* With thanks to Rev. David Lose. http://www.davidlose.net/2015/08/pentecost-12-b-meeting-the-carnal-god/
No comments:
Post a Comment