Photo by Alex Lvrs on Unsplash
Karen Hollis | Aug 4, 2024
Pentecost 11
John 6:24-35 So when the crowd saw that neither Jesus nor his disciples were there, they themselves got into the boats and went to Capernaum looking for Jesus. When they found him on the other side of the sea, they said to him, "Rabbi, when did you come here?" Jesus answered them, "Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me not because you saw signs but because you ate your fill of the loaves. Do not work for the food that perishes but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For it is on him that God the Father has set his seal." Then they said to him, "What must we do to perform the works of God?" Jesus answered them, "This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent." So they said to him, "What sign are you going to give us, then, so that we may see it and believe you? What work are you performing? Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, as it is written, 'He gave them bread from heaven to eat.'" Then Jesus said to them, "Very truly, I tell you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world." They said to him, "Sir, give us this bread always." Jesus said to them, "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.
In my reflection today, I’m going to talk about the people in the story from John’s gospel . . . what they may be experiencing, perhaps thinking and feeling. While I reflect about them, I invite you to listen for what resonates with you. Where do you find yourself in these words? May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be reflections of your word to us today, in Christ’s name we pray. Amen
I was standing in line at the Honeygrove bakery a few weeks ago, watching one of the bread bakers work with the dough. He would take a portion of dough, tamp it down with his fingers, then fold it and wrap it over itself, carefully shaping and adding finishing flourishes before placing it into the baking pan. He seemed to me a craftsman, an artist, a scientist, who had clearly developed and sharpened his skill through many repetitions. I watched him take portion after portion of dough and each time his technique was precisely the same. I was in awe. He did something very different from what my family used to do with a bread machine during my teenage years. Once a week or so a couple of us would take on the project of putting ingredients into the machine and then we all waited for it to work its magic. I can still remember the way it smelled, fresh out of the machine. When it was finally sliceable, it was so easy to eat slice after slice, without realizing it. I did the same with mint Milano cookies – where did they all go? How is it that I just ate the entire bag? I wasn’t even present for it. It’s like unconsciously I’m trying to feed something that is deeper than food can reach. Jesus knows I’m not going to fill it with bread . . . and somewhere within me, I know too . . . still I try.
With bellies no longer full from the night before, the people look for Jesus. They follow the path he took across the Sea of Galilee and find him on the other side . . . this symbolic action of everyone crossing over is offered in hope that they can be together in understanding the world in a new way, through a new framework or belief system.
Now, remember that at the end of last week’s reading, Jesus basically flees for the hills because the people are preparing to take him by force to make him their king. So, when he meets them again, he is highly motivated to challenge their way of thinking.
Naturally they would want him to be their king – compared to the one they have, Jesus is a gift! He heals people, he feeds them, and truly cares about their well-being. He is everything they have ever wanted in a king! Unfortunately for them . . . or perhaps fortunately, Jesus is not on that page. He is actively resisting the imperial system and mindset – he wants nothing to do with systems of power – and challenges them to consider: what if you didn’t have a king at all? What if you never needed one?
The notion undoubtedly crashes into their belief system. Our belief systems are incredibly powerful. They tell us how the world operates, what is possible, what is acceptable, how to interpret what we experience. We learn them from our parents and families, our culture and environment, just to name a few. Belief systems create our reality. And here Jesus is inviting the people to try on a new one.
This is huge. It challenges the people on every level. For those courageous enough to try, it is messy and uncomfortable . . . perhaps something like kneading dough for the first time. Scooping it out from the bowl and pulling it into a ball, fingers sticking to the bits not covered in flour, trying to free fingers and pretty soon the dough is everywhere. Still persisting and beginning the kneading process.
You know how when we’re doing something physical like kneading, it’s as if we’re kneading the jumble of thoughts and feelings within us? I imagine the people: them each with a portion of dough, pressing into it as they consider Jesus’ question. Perhaps they encounter their expectations, feelings of anxiety or frustration that he isn’t doing what they want, perhaps pressing into confusion or a mental block where they don’t yet have neuropathways. They might even pull off a piece of dough and throw it against the wall . . . that’s available too.
They wonder aloud to Jesus: “So, what are we supposed to do?”
From within the imperial system that formed them, this question makes sense. Their transactional belief system tells them that in order to receive something, they have to earn it . . . they have to do something or give something.
What if there was nothing to do but shift their way of thinking? What if there was nothing to do but open their hearts to the love that is knocking on its doors? What if the “work” is to reframe their experience. Can they receive something they didn’t earn?
Some of you know I was stung by a bee last Sunday afternoon. I was stung in the foot, which made getting around a challenge – bee stings are not life threatening, yet always a significant event for me. The next day my foot was still swelling while I was happily making plans for the week. At some point I realized my foot was still getting worse, not better and I needed to stop and reframe my situation. When my emotions told me I was overwhelmed, I had to stop again and reframe. Over and over again, I assessed what my body was capable of and reframed my expectations to meet myself where I was. It was hard and yet my body needed the support in order to heal.
Reframing our experience requires letting go of the old frame, pressing into that dough, kneading it over and over again until there is space for something else.
The people, hearing there is nothing to “do”, yet still wanting to keep a hold of the situation, they wonder: “what sign will you give us? Something like the bread from heaven given in the wilderness?”
Still in their imperial mindset, the people don’t realize that they already received the sign – in last week’s reading they sat on a grassy hill, 5,000 in all as Jesus fed them al with a humble offering of 5 loaves and 2 fish – but they don’t understand what they experienced. They don’t recognize it because they haven’t learned to see in the way Jesus is teaching. Using one of their own stories, Jesus reminds them that Moses didn’t supply the bread in the wilderness. It is God who gives, God who provides. What if you didn’t need to look toward people – especially people in power – to provide for you? What if we worked together, in relationship with our Creator, for our collective thriving? This is what is already happening around us. We are living a new Exodus story . . . where we not only free our bodies from bondage, we free our minds and hearts too!
Through the words and actions of Jesus, God is inviting us to see . . . because God wants more for us than a constant struggle to survive. God is offering us the bread that opens up expansive possibilities and deeper solutions that are available to us.
The people cry out: “Yes, yes, give us this bread always!” This bread is Jesus the Christ . . . he is the one who sets the table for us, he is the one who invites us to come and feast. Here and now, we enter into the liturgy, and occupy this space where the dailyness of life intermingles with the fullness of Jesus’ vision . . . and what was a loaf of bread becomes something else . . . what was a cup of juice, becomes a cup running over. We spend time here together . . . to again and again reframe our minds, hearts, and lives toward this vision of life.