Many of you know how much I like to offer context for the scripture proclaimed on Sundays.
Bear with me as I offer one minute of context today.
The Liturgy of the Word nourishes us with passages from each of the Gospel accounts on a 3-year rotation.
Year A is set aside for us to feast on Matthew’s account.
Year B is set aside for Mark’s account (which is where we are this year).
Year C is set aside for Luke’s account.
But what about John’s account?
We do hear a lot from John’s Gospel during Lent and the Easter season.
But a sizable portion of John goes missing during those times.
So, during the B cycle of readings, we interrupt Mark’s account with five weeks devoted to John, Chapter Six.
These 71 verses are central to what Christians believe, say, and do when they celebrate the Eucharist.
Today’s passage includes two miracles or “signs” that set up a lengthy discourse called the “Bread of Life” or “Bread of Heaven” discourse.
It is a journey of faith for followers of Jesus.
It echoes the Passover journey of the Israelites.
I encourage you to use portions of John, Chapter Six during the next month as part of your daily meditation.
That minute is up. Let’s dive in, shall we?
If you have ever had someone attach a label to you, you know how uncomfortable that can be.
Each of us is so much more than a bunch of labels.
Our genders and our ethnicities and our religious backgrounds and our schooling and our achievements are nothing more than the dust jacket covering a book.
Most of us don’t want to be hemmed in by labels.
I know I don’t.
So, we can well understand when Jesus flees up the mountain by himself to avoid the people who would label him “king.”
Jesus would not allow a label to control him.
Jesus knew his scripture.
The God of the Jews is the voice from the burning bush responding to Moses who wants to name God; saying, “tell the people ‘I am’ sent you.
The gospel writer, John, puts that expression on Jesus’ lips, “It is I; do not be afraid.”
The gospel writer dismisses those who want to attach their own label on Jesus as people of pretend faith.
They love the signs or miracles that Jesus performs but hold back from trusting that Jesus’ way is the way to God.
The feeding of the five thousand is a sign of God’s provident care.
The people of pretend faith fail to recognize that and set up an expectation that suits their short-term desires for earthly status and power.
That should be a litmus test for Christians today both as individual followers and as “church.”
Earthly status and power is not trustworthy.
When we achieve it we tend to cling to it.
It is its own special kind of obsession or addiction that turns into a form of idolatry.
As citizens of the one and only “superpower” in the world, we ought to recognize this idolatry easily.
But it is insidious in the ways it seduces and deceives us.
Every congressional district in our country has at least one corporation dependent on a contract from the Department of Defense.
When appropriations for defense spending come up, it is the rare member of the House of Representatives who will vote against it.
Even our language around status and power deceives.
The National Security Act of 1947 abolished the War Department, a cabinet level department since 1789, and renamed it the Department of the Army in the National Military Establishment.
That was quite a mouthful and still a little too truthful so in 1949 elected leaders settled on the Department of Defense.
It doesn’t sound “offensive” at all.
Does it?
On a “church” level status and power are slippery because we hear the call to be meek, humble, and obedient and turn the other cheek, but we know in our heart of hearts when confrontation is in order, and we don’t always have a structure at hand that we can rely on to remedy an injustice.
That frustration has been part of what has splintered the church universal over many centuries.
On the interpersonal level striving for and holding onto status and power often stretch our relationships to the breaking point.
Fear drives this dynamic often manifested by the twin evils of jealousy and envy.
On the one side I am tempted to jealously guard and cling tenaciously to beliefs, opinions, material possessions and resentments that may have served me at one time, but need to be jettisoned if I am to rekindle my relationship with people important to me (and the rest of the human race for that matter).
On the other side I am tempted to envy in the sense of coveting what others seem to possess abundantly and unfairly in my perspective. This leads to resentment often manifested by self-pity and obsessions with self-indulgent behavior.
None of this is very attractive in the abstract, but fear drives us on into these kinds of quagmires.
Today’s Gospel or Good News is Jesus’ invitation to let go of fear and trust in God’s generosity and abundance.
This does not come easy to us.
Whether by nature or nurture, we seem to hold back from complete trust.
The early followers in John’s community and elsewhere came to value the Eucharist as a means of effecting the closest bond possible between the disciples and Christ and bring about the unity Christ desires for the disciples themselves.
In more recent times the Second Vatican Council of the Roman Catholic Church called the Eucharist the source and summit of our life in Christ, and the “primary sacrament of reconciliation.”
Those who arrive here from other faith traditions may want to refresh their own memories for what Eucharist means to them.
The Liturgy of the Word feeds us with the Good News of Christ Jesus’ victory over sin and death.
It sharpens our appetite for communion with Christ.
The Liturgy of the Word also convicts us of our shortcomings, the ways we have missed the mark as followers of Christ.
During the time we process to the communion stations I frequently repeat in my mind, “Body of Christ” , as others come into my view.
It strengthens my trust in the “real presence” of Christ in our midst.
My personal test for the strength of my faith and trust in the abundance that God intends for us and the Real Presence of God in our midst is this: feeling joy at the good fortune of others; and when I do not feel it immediately, praying for that joy in a world where many value only the zero-sum game of winning at another’s expense.
God’s abundance is greater than our fear of scarcity.
One final note.
In the good old, bad old days of my youth, the sacrament of the sick was called Extreme Unction.
When receiving communion in the face of death, the Latin expression for the Eucharist was viaticum which translates as “bread for the journey.”
I can think of no better way to view our reception of communion here each Sunday.
It is “bread for the journey.” We are not alone.
Disarm us, O Lord — our minds, lips, hearts, and hands — that we may more perfectly love you. We repent from our own political violence. We pray … – Rose Marie Berger, “How to Pray After Political Violence”
Provident God, you feed us; you answer every need. Turn us from the desire to acquire more at the expense of our neighbors in need. Increase our joy at having enough for this day, we pray …
Holy One, Love in Action, unify your followers in prayer across our planet that we may bear witness to your compassion for all creatures, we pray …
Please take a few moments to recall those whose needs occupy your minds and hearts, speaking their names or quietly focusing on their faces, the countenance of Christ. For these and all inscribed in our book of intention, we pray …
May our prayers rise like incense and be pleasing to you; we pray in Jesus’ Name.
Amen.