Of Mirrors, Bread, and the Body

Jesus' Feeding of the Five Thousand was not about giving sustenance for a moment or the morning, but for a life-long mission 

 

August 4, 2024—The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost—Proper 13B

 

2 Samuel 11:26-12:13a

Psalm 51:1-13
Ephesians 4:1-16
John 6:24-35

 

© 2024 Seth Olson 

This sermon was given at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles in Hoover, AL — a video of it may be found here.

Holy God, let my words be your words, and when my words are not your words, let your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

Would you rather be right, or would you rather be kind? This is a question that has permeated my life over the last decade and a half. Often, I know how I want to answer this question—that I want to be both right and kind—but my actions belie my best intentions. I mean that in my attempt to thread the needle of being both right and kind, I bungle the whole thing, and I end up being neither kind nor right. I know you may be shocked, but your priest is human.

Jokes about my humanity aside, you may be surprised that in seminary, students spend time discussing this question during pastoral theology class. It’s helpful for me to remember that one of the underpinnings of good pastoral care practices is figuring out how to best approach the quandary, would I rather be right, or would I rather be kind? 

My phenomenal professor, the Rev. Dr. Kathleen Russell was quick to point out that sometimes, even the very best of us miss the mark. All of us at times are both wrong and mean. Through her blunt, Western New Yorker approach to educating, I observed my beloved teacher challenging me to see that the work of a pastor, preacher, and priest is not simply to espouse Godly wisdom in a harsh, critical way for the sake of sharing the Truth. No, the role of a clergyperson is to lovingly hold up a set of mirrors to a congregation, a community, and a world in need. These mirrors do help us to see the truth of who we have been, who we are, and who we becoming, but as I share these reflections, I am and we are to do so from a foundation of loving kindness.

This sort of reflective work is delicate to say the least. Still, here in this tender space of wondering how to be—and how to be kind—and how to share what is right—here on this holy ground of taking a truthful look in the mirror, I know that God is with us, just like how God was with the Ephesians in the Epistle we just heard. 

Today’s portion of Saint Paul’s Letter to the Church in Ephesus is an all-timer! It’s so chalked full of goodness that it’s hard to know where to begin, but let’s start at the top of this passage. This Early Church evangelist and letter writer, Paul, here reached a climactic moment in his correspondence with the Ephesians. For three years, Paul lived among this community and in this note he was writing to them from prison in Rome. For three chapters, Paul shared the Good News of God in Christ Jesus and how it applied not simply to the People of Israel, but to Gentiles—meaning all people. Then, here in Chapter Four, Paul pivoted to exploring how this Gospel had an implication in the Ephesians’ lives—he was holding up a mirror for this church to understand the Truth in Love!  

Saint Paul displayed kindness in how he shared the Truth though. In this passage he did not demand, he did not ask, instead he begged them to lead a life worthy of the calling they had received. Perhaps hastened by his own imprisonment, Paul was desperate for this missionary church, which he helped start, to get this message. What was this truthful message, Paul was striving so hard to relay gently? 

That they were one. They were united in the Spirit, in a bond of peace. And because of this union, they would be wise to act with humility, gentleness, and patience. For the truth is they were, and we too are of “one body and one Spirit,” we have “one hope of [our] calling,” we have “one Lord,” we share in “one faith,” and there is “one baptism,” into which we are all baptized. There is “one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.” This is the ultimate Truth. There’s one God and that one God is both above all things and in all things. If your head is spinning, I hope your heart is not. I hope your heart is full because this is really good news! But, before you think this is all some attempt to blur us all together in an amorphous blob, we get to this crucial phrase, “But each of us was given grace according to the measure of Christ's gift.”

All of us have received giftedness through God’s grace—favor undeserved, unearned. You can do nothing to earn more of it, you can do nothing to mess it up, it’s pure gift. Of course, if we are too consumed with other things, we may not see the gift right in front of us, or rather right within us. You may be wondering, what it means for each of us to receive this giftedness within us? 

There’s a short list of who we may become through God’s gifting. Paul laid out, apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors and teachers. Well, here at Holy Apostles all of us are apostles—which means ones who are sent—all of us are sent out to tell others of the Good News of God’s love for us. Some of us additionally are prophets—not ones who predict the future, but ones who tell the Truth in Love. Some are evangelists—not street corner preachers or televangelists grifting folks out of their money—but heralds of Good News, like how Mary Magdalene on Easter Morning shared the story of the Resurrection with the other disciples. Some are called to tend to others as pastors—not the Good Shepherd, but one who works for Him. Others are ones who are to teach how to live out our Faith in God. This list is not exhaustive. There are many more roles that all of us play, and what truly matters is what comes next in Paul’s letter.

All of us are called to live into our calling as members of the Body of Christ. Each one of us has a role to play. We are to build one another up as we equip the saints—and all of us are saints, just as all of us are apostles. You may already know this: our Bishop Glenda and a wonderful team are actively working to prepare our diocese for the next chapter of our shared ministry—they are calling this capital campaign, “Equipping the Saints.” That’s exactly what we are meant to do as a church in the Way of Christ.

We are to kindly share the truth of how we can grow in God’s grace as we mature into the full stature of Christ. We do this together as the Body of Christ. And yet, each of us has an important part to play as individual members. We work both in a particular area and as interconnected members of a larger body. 

As we go, we are sustained not simply by the food of this world, but also by the living bread, which feeds us not just for a moment or a morning, but for a mission—a life-long journey to reflect how God dreams this world can be. What’s that look like? 

Paul put it this way, we must speak, “the truth in love, we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and knit together by every ligament with which it is equipped, as each part is working properly, promotes the body's growth in building itself up in love.” We must work together to grow in love. 

In our Gospel story, love looks like abundant, spiritual sustenance in the form of a continuing and glutenous (not gluttonous) passage. You may recall that last week’s lesson described how Jesus turned five loaves given by a young boy into enough food for five thousand men, which probably meant closer to ten thousand people including women and children. The power of this good news is not only that God in Christ Jesus could feed the masses, but that a little child was willing to share his food with others. One interpretation of the feeding of the five thousand portrays others seeing the boy’s example and following suit. Can you imagine? Here a child held up a mirror showing the way the world could be!

All of us are indeed to go and be these sorts of members of the Body of Christ. In just a moment, we will recognize one such member, and I imagine she does not like that I am singling her out. Julia Sanford, who’s been a long-time member here, is headed off to Sewanee’s School of Theology to be formed as a priest in the Episcopal way. Julia, like that boy during the feeding is offering up what she has so that God may bless and multiply it. 

As she goes and as we go, may we strive to not only be right—especially in this election season, but may we also aim to be kind. May we hold up loving mirrors to one another. May we be like Paul trusting that we are all called. May we be like the Ephesians, faithfully striving to accept our call as members of the Body of Christ. May we be like Julia and the boy from the feeding of the five thousand, offering our lives up to be taken, blessed, transformed, and gifted back to us by God. And, when all else fails, may we seek Jesus like the crowds flocking after him, so that we are fed not just for a moment or a morning, but for a mission that will take exactly one lifetime. Amen. 

What Do You Believe?

Have you found Jesus?

 

August 8, 2021—The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost—Proper 14

2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33
Psalm 130
Ephesians 4:25-5:2
John 6:35, 41-51 

© 2021 Seth Olson

Perhaps you have seen the signs when driving along the interstate. In bold text, an even bolder question, “If you died tonight, where would you go? Heaven or Hell?!!!” When I see such billboards, I get lost in anger—I wonder, how can someone short-change the message of God’s love in this way? Reducing the beauty, the complexity, and the immensity of Jesus’ Way of Love into an either-or question leaves me feeling frustrated.

Memories from my youth emerge: Walking through Southside Birmingham and seeing well-meaning Christians wrapped in fear trying to scare others into believing. Their shouts of “Have you been saved?” or “Do you believe?” crackling from a cheap bullhorn.

Of course, my favorite question along these lines is “Have you found Jesus?” It reminds me of a Far Side Cartoon in which two white men dressed in khakis, short-sleeved button up shirts, and ties are standing at a woman’s front door. They ask her, “Have you found Jesus?” In the living room of the home barely visible are Jesus’ sandal-clad feet, hiding behind a curtain for a big picture window.

With all joking aside, the yelling of Christians into megaphones has caused a great mess within our society. Or, maybe their shouting has merely revealed this mess. Belief has become such an empty word. Does it mean anything at all?

For many of our friends in other parts of the Church belief simply means to give ascent to something—to check off a certain list of criteria about God and ourselves. For many believing means to think the way others do, the way the pastor says to think, or to accept things in the right way as to avoid Hell. Sure, this is what believing means to some, but how did Jesus use this word? What did Jesus mean when he said that believing leads to eternal life?

This morning we heard Jesus in the continuation of a larger story from John’s Gospel account. The “Bread of Life Discourse” as some refer to it. (Are you sick of bread yet? Got any Gluten-free believers now?) Well, in this passage Jesus described himself as the Bread of Life and the Bread of Heaven—using the Hebrew story of the manna from heaven to elaborate on what he came to do in the world. When Jesus said, “I am the bread of life” this was the first “I Am” statement in this Gospel account. He would later say I am the Light of the World; the Gate; the Good Shepherd; the Resurrection and the Life; the Way, the Truth, and the Life; and the Vine. But if we are to walk into eternity with Jesus, do we have to believe Jesus literally? Was Jesus really bread or a vine? Is that believing?

You may be shocked to hear this, but when we go to the altar rail we are not participating in gruesome cannibalism. Jesus spoke in expansive language with many layers. When we meet him in Communion we do truly take hold of Christ, but there is more happening than we will ever know or we can even imagine. And so, we cannot take in all that is going on there.

When we come together as a community we sometimes say that we are re-membering, as in putting back together, the Body of Christ. We are constituting the Body of Christ right now. And, at the same time the words that we hear as we stretch out our hands at the altar rail are “The Body of Christ.” The Body of Christ is meeting the Body of Christ during Communion. Talk about “You are what you eat!” There’s even more though to this whole believing thing.

Thomas Merton put it more eloquently than I ever could:

The deepest level of communication is not communication, but communion. It is wordless. It is beyond words, and it is beyond speech, and it is beyond concept. Not that we discover a new unity. We discover an older unity. My dear brothers [and sisters], we are already one. But we imagine that we are not. And what we have to recover is our original unity. What we have to be is what we are.

We have to be the Body of Christ—that we are already are!

The organist where I used to serve would ask me what my favorite hymn was. The richness of our hymnody is too much for me to narrow it down, so I change constantly. Usually whatever I would tell him, would make him roll his eyes. Today though my favorite hymn might just be “The Church’s One Foundation.” The last stanza refers to the sort of strange Body of Christ meeting Body of Christ nature that is happening during Communion. “Yet she [the Church] on earth hath union with God the Three in One, and mystic sweet communion with those whose rest is won; O happy ones and holy! Lord give us grace that we, like them, the meek and lowly, on high may dwell with thee.” I can’t help but get misty eyed when I sing those words, for I know and we know that there are those who have joined the great cloud of witnesses who still commune with us. But, is that what Jesus meant by believing and entering into eternal life? Do we just think that we will float around invisible during Communion? Sounds scary.

And, if we are not careful we will let all the fear from other parts of society and the Church soak into us too. The bullhorn shouting about going to heaven or hell distracts us from hearing Jesus say, “I will raise them up on the last day.” We miss this as we wonder, Do I get to be part of the exclusive club? What if I believe in the wrong way? What if I mess this whole thing up? We worry about what Jesus said when he talked about belief, but what he meant was not doing a certain set of things or thinking a certain way or consenting to what the preacher tells you to do. Jesus pointed to the non-permanent nature of the manna in the wilderness to drive home the truth of believing.

To believe—to really eat the bread of life, to be transformed by what happens in mystic sweet communion—to believe is to trust God. To give over our lives to the Creator of the Universe to be blessed and transformed. This might be harder than checking off a few things a leader says to do. That was the case with Israelites.

Way back when, manna was not the problem. The trouble was that those who were in the desert with Moses did not trust God. They grumbled. They pleaded for more than just the bread that was keeping them alive. And, sadly we often do the same.

When problems arise, we doubt. Which is actually the natural response, and it is okay! God still believes in us, even when we don’t believe in God. But, when we forget our true identity as God’s beloveds, and that God is holding us up, and that God is with us (all of us, all that time)—well, when we forget this, we tend to turn our religion into a weapon. When we disconnect from God we wield Christianity as a sword to beat disbelief or the unbelievers away. This is not what Jesus was calling us into when he spoke of believing. This is not what leads to eternal life.

Jesus showed us a way that was different. He was not talking about thinking a certain way so we can eat bread that would never get moldy. No, he was showing us the way through which we might recover our original unity with God. Jesus showed us the way into the eternal life. It is not through accenting to what a fear-filled preacher says, so that you can think that your group is better than others. Instead, we are called into a radical practice of trusting that God’s love for us and for all is infinite. It is eternally expansive and completely comprehensive. God’s love has the power to even defeat death. And it has the power to make us one.

We are called to trust God. That is believing. When we eat the bread of trusting God we realize that we are already part of the Body of Christ. What we have to be is what we already are.

What do you believe?

 

Repeated Wisdom

Knock, knock... Who's there?... BANANA!

This sermon was preached on the 13^th Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 15B) at St. John’s Church. The readings which inspired the sermon were the following:

1 Kings 2:10-12; 3:3-14
Psalm 111
Ephesians 5:15-20
John 6:51-58

Me: Knock knock.

Congregation: Who’s there?

Me: Banana.

Congregation: Banana who?

Me: Knock knock.

Congregation: Who’s there?

Me: Banana.

Congregation: Banana who?

Me: Knock knock.

Congregation: Who’s there?

Me: Banana.

Congregation: Banana who?

Me: Knock knock.

Congregation: Who’s there?

Me: Orange.

Congregation: Orange who?

Me: Orange you glad I didn’t say banana?

[Everyone laughs… okay not really.]

That is my favorite joke. And, it’s terrible, I know. I’ve loved it for longer than I can remember. Its humor comes from—okay it’s not really funny—but, if it were funny it would be funny because of its repetition. We may think the same thing about the Gospel lessons we’ve heard over the last few weeks. It is funny—but not really funny—because Jesus keeps repeating the same thing over and over again. But why?

Why does Jesus say the same thing over and over again? We have heard for the past four weeks (including today) that Jesus is the Bread of Life, the Bread of Heaven, the Bread that will feed the World. So why must we keep hearing this again and again? Why does Jesus keep overwhelming us with more and more difficult passages about him and bread? 

I can think of three reasons why someone would repeat oneself over and over and over again. First, because one’s audience was not listening—What? Second, because one’s audience did not get it—Huh? And third, because what one was saying was just that important. Those reasons again—not listening, not understanding, and too important. And, strangely enough I believe this passage points to all three of these being true. Jesus said these things because the people were not listening, they did not getting it, and what he was saying was too important not to repeat. Let’s look at these three more deeply.

When I was a kid I did not listen well. Almost always when my mom spoke the first word out of my mouth in response was, “What?” Sorry mom. I realized that I did not do a good job of really paying attention. It was not a problem with my ears but rather my intention. Similarly those in Jesus’ day were not intentionally listening to what Jesus said. We can even see this in the way that Jesus and the religious folk spoke to each other.

Previously in the Sixth Chapter of John, allusions were made to the story of Moses and the Israelites in the wilderness being fed by God with manna—bread from heaven. In that Old Testament story the people grumbled for flesh. Their words were give us the flesh. This is almost exactly what the people said to Jesus today. We read it as “his flesh” but that was not what they actually said—our translation makes an interpretation changing “the” to “his.” Read this way it would say, “How can this man give us the flesh to eat?” and it changes how we hear their words. Jesus though was talking about his flesh feeding them. The people were not listening though, but why?

Those people who had been following Jesus around throughout this chapter had been fed with actual bread from Jesus. Imagine how good that bread was! I mean I know we love our communion bread here. And, if we were ever to run out of communion bread our congregation might just revolt. They might even throw back the wafers at me and tell me that Jesus did not eat chips! (Not that that has ever happened.) So, those who followed Jesus around were fed by him. They ate bread from heaven and they wanted more. Some though were not listening for something more—they just wanted something to eat. And, even those who were intentionally listening—those who weren’t just looking for something to eat—might not have really understood what Jesus was speaking.

Jesus said what he said over and over and over again in part because his listeners may not have understood what he really meant by what he said. What we heard Jesus saying this morning could be construed in many different ways. As we realized last week, Jesus does not want us to be cannibals, but his words really do point to a physical reality. When he said he was giving his flesh for the life of the world he signified to those listening something that was about to happen.

Soon enough in Jerusalem Jesus would be betrayed, persecuted, tortured, crucified, and killed. This really was him giving up his flesh. Still there was more than one layer to what Jesus was saying—hence why it was hard and is still hard to understand and why Jesus had to build up his teaching slowly. Yes, there was this layer of what was actually happening, but what about all the references to bread and eating this bread, his flesh? To eat his flesh and to drink his blood as bread and wine certainly refers to Holy Communion, but even in that is another mystical dimension that encompasses the physical, the metaphorical, the spiritual, and even what is beyond our comprehending.

This truth, this reality was so important that Jesus said it over and over and over again, which is that third reason why he repeated himself. Still Jesus made a leap throughout this chapter in John. He leapt from believing to eating. Those who believe will eat and those who eat will have eternal life through their believing. Sure, again this refers to the reality of sacramental grace that happens at the altar rail, but it also can and maybe does happen at all times and in all places. For believing is not only about eating, but also about consuming. It matters what we consume and also what consumes us.

What do we consume? What do you consume? Not just what do you eat, although that is interesting enough to think about, but what do you do with your time, talent, and treasure? I invite you to take a few moments to think about that this week by taking part in three practices: 1. Look at your financial accounts. What do you consume with that money? When you get a paycheck does the first dollar go to God’s work or to what you want? 2. Look at how you spend your time. How much time does God get? When does that happen? Is it first thing in the morning? Is it just some leftover time here and there when you think about it? 3. Look at what activities, tasks, or events give you the most energy and which ones drain you the most. Not always but often the things that give us the most energy are areas where we have talent and when directed towards God’s work in this world it can be powerful. Those areas are where we find our purpose and where we find our calling. You might find some fit for your calling today at the Rally Day Ministry Fair.

When you look at your life in these areas you might just see what you consume with your money, your time, and your energy. But, what consumes you? Often we think that heaven or the Kingdom of God are realities that await us when we “awake” on the other side of the grave; however, I don’t think that is the important thing that Jesus came to tell us. When the Body and Blood of Christ consume us—not just the other way around—then we realize that our entire lives—all our treasure, our time, and our talent—can be utilized for the building up of God’s Reign here on earth. When we are consumed by Christ, then everything works towards God’s purposes. 

Each of us is called into the ministry of Christ. We are all called to be members in the Body of Christ. All our stories fit into the Story of God’s Love—the sharing of the Good News of Christ. And to be more a part of all of this, God is calling us to be enveloped in Christ, consumed by the Body and Blood of Christ.

We hear Jesus repeating his wisdom over and over and over again because we might not be listening at first, and because we might not get it all at once, and mostly because what we are hearing is so important. What we believe matters. And what we believe can best be seen not in what we say believe, but in looking at what we eat, what we consume. What do you consume? What consumes you? May it be always and only the Body and Blood of Christ. Amen. 

The Christ Abides

Hearing Jesus say the word "abide" brings my mind to The Big Lebowski

This coming Sunday’s Gospel lesson has a déjà vu quality about it. We’re nearing (thankfully) the end of the Bread of Life Discourse in John’s account of the Good News of Christ Jesus, but this being the fourth consecutive week about Jesus and bread gives this week’s portion a repetitive, redundant quality. I find myself asking questions to see the spiritual meat in this story about bread. What do we need to hear in these words about the life of Jesus of Nazareth that impact us today? Why is this passage found in our Holy Scriptures? Maybe a helpful way of answering these questions stems from looking for what stands out in this passage.

One word caught the ear of my heart in today’s reading of the text. That word? Abide.

“Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them” (John 6:56 italics added). If Jesus spoke on a metaphorical level when he talked about eating him, then we safely assert that Jesus did not mean that we literally live inside of him, nor does he live inside of us. This is not the plot of Alien 3 unfolding. Of course, that word abide conjures up another cult classic movie.

The Big Lebowski focuses upon the increasingly extraordinary events unfolding in the life of Jeffrey “the Dude” Lebowski. By no stretch of the imagination are the Dude’s actions virtuous—save for his penchant for justice regarding a rug and trying to help out a lady friend now and again. Regardless, the great Sam Elliott who played “the Stranger” ends the film by breaking the fourth wall, turning to the camera, and saying: “The Dude abides. I don't know about you but I take comfort in that. It's good knowin' he's out there. The Dude. Takin' 'er easy for all us sinners.” Were that line not said in the deep, unmistakable voice of Sam Elliott I probably would not remember the dude abiding and taking her easy for all us sinners, but I do. And, while the Dude’s character runs crosswise of who Christ was and is, still a connection persists in my mind.

Christ does abide—not literally inside of us—but, in a way that is more real than anything else. Christ Jesus continues within us. In our hearts, our minds, our souls, and our collective being Jesus the Christ lives. We mystically connect with the one who lives on for us all sinners. We do this when we participate in Holy Communion. There we discover Christ dwelling in us both more clearly and more opaquely than at other times. As we put back together the Body of Christ, re-membering Jesus as we gather together as Christ’s Body here and now, we come in contact with the Truth that exists always: we are made in God’s image, house Christ within us, and are filled with God’s Spirit. What happens in Communion is always happening.

This truth so often evade our conscious knowing—like sand slipping between our fingertips. So, we must rely upon a deeper knowing to experience the reality of God dwelling within us. This week, slow down. Give yourself permission—even in the busy-ness of a new academic year—to stop. Maybe this means you will have to wake up early, sneak off during a lunch break, or stay up a little later to find some moments of quiet away from screens and other distractions. Whenever it is, allow yourself time to be still and become aware of the presence of Christ that abides in you. There’s nothing that you have to do to achieve this presence. That Divine light always shines in us all. Once you realize this truth stay there for a few moments. Like sitting together with an old friend who is completely fine talking and just as fine with silence be present with God. These moments of abiding with God are profound enough; however, once you make this realization allow this truth to pervade not only quiet moments, but your entire life. Christ dwells in you and we can dwell in him as we bring this truth to bear at all times and in all places.

Christ abides infinitely, I don't know about you but I take comfort in that. It's good knowing that Christ is out there and in here too, Christ abiding within all us sinners.

Just Another Day

Happy Birthday Teddy... It's Just Another Day, or is it?

Today my family is celebrating my son Teddy’s first birthday. It’s a lovely day! We will feed him his favorite foods of almond butter and guacamole for dinner—yes, we are aware of how pretentious and hippie-ish those foods are! We will let Teddy open and play with presents throughout today. And, we will even stretch the celebration out as he got to see family and godparents last week and will see his other godparents this weekend. But, as my former boss liked to say, “It’s just another day.” So is the nature of our lives.

When I was in seminary, Brother Curtis Almquist SSJE came to speak to us. He spoke with such self-evident wisdom that afterward I felt like in one night I had gone through 365 days of one of the flip calendars with bits of brilliance on each day. Something from that night in particular stands out to this day. Brother Curtis said we must hold two truths one in each hand. In one hand remember that for you the universe was made. And, in the other hand know that you are dust and to dust you shall return. I have loved wrestling with these contrasting principles since that night—and today especially these words come back to me. They also are connected to the truth that Jesus shared in thiscoming Sunday’s Gospel lesson.

Jesus responded to the religious leaders of his day by reminding them of their collective ancestors. In the midst of talking about himself as the Bread of Life Jesus said, “Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died.” As Tim Callahan, our Director of Youth Ministries said in today’s staff meeting, these are harsh words from Jesus. They are direct. Even though God provided abundantly for those wandering in the wilderness that physical food was not what believing in God was all about. It was not what God yearned for in God's people.

(As a particularly important aside, this is not about the Israelites "Jewishness." That is not why they died. Remember Jesus was a faithful Jewish person. The trouble was that in the wilderness those People of God were constantly grumbling to God, they missed the food that lasted beyond the next time they were hungry. And, we too often make this mistake in our own day. We can be too worried about our physical needs to comprehend our spiritual needs.)

We, like the people in the wilderness long ago, like the people of Jesus’ day, and like those people since then, must be fed by more than just physical food. For we are dust and to dust we shall return. Even my precious baby boy will one day die. I weep just thinking about that truth. Still, it is the truth. Our physical bodies will give out, our minds will become feeble, and yet there is more to the story.

Jesus told those who had ears to hear that he was the bread that came down from heaven. Those who believe have eternal life. If we consume the bread of life, then we will live forever. Anyone and everyone; you, Teddy, and me can rejoice in the truth that for each of us the universe was made. Even more joyfully we remember that God sent Jesus to show us the way of love. There’s nothing—not even death—that can separate us from God’s love and light and life!

Sometimes it is difficult to allow more than one truth to dwell within us. Sure, today is special because I get to celebrate Teddy and remember what a blessing and gift he is from God and at the same time I get to see how fragile life is. I am reminded both of our feeble nature and the fire of God’s Spirit that always burns within each of us. Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return and for you the universe was made. Hold both of these truths within you. Today is special, and it is just another day.

Our Trouble with the Divine

On Sunday we will continue working our way through the “Bread of Life Discourse” from the 6^th Chapter of John. Having had two weeks off from preaching in a pulpit—my family had to deal with me sermonizing them on the beach last week—I am excited to jump into the middle of this five week block. During my first reading of this coming Sunday's Gospel lesson my eyes fall upon the conflict between Jesus and some Jewish leaders. 

The Common English Bible translates it this way: “The Jewish opposition grumbled about him because he said, ‘I am the bread that came down from heaven.’ They asked, ‘Isn’t this Jesus, Joseph’s son, whose mother and father we know? How can he now say, “I have come down from heaven”?’” (John 6:41-42). These words stand out because the trouble that the Jewish elite have with Jesus we all have with the Divine, or rather with people who say that they are from God.

Followers of Jesus today are quite certain that he came down from heaven, but in his day claiming that he had come from heaven was blasphemous and reason for not just alarm but persecution. Today we still feel this way, at least in parts of the Church. If someone claims that they are a messenger of God or have heard God speaking we tell them to seek professional help, run them out of town, or write them off. Why is this?

Well, we in the Church tend to differentiate between Christ Jesus and us. Clearly in his life, death, and resurrection we see as the centurion did that “Truly [Jesus] was God’s Son” (Mark 15:39). Jesus showed in his actions, his healings, his teaching, his prayerfulness, his faithfulness, and his love that he had come down from heaven. However, we are not so quick to connect ourselves or others with the Divine. We do not recognize that while we are different from Jesus we are nonetheless children of God.

All of us are made in God’s image. All of us are grafted into the Body of Christ. All of us are adopted through Christ into the household of God. And yet, whenever someone talks about a pre-birth experience with God or an encounter with the Divine we, in the Episcopal Church, shut them up. I get it we love good theology and orthodox religion, but if we are not willing to share how we are part of God’s family, enmeshed in God’s limitless love, and filled with God’s Holy Spirit what are we doing? How are we continuing to share the Good News of Christ Jesus not only according to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, but also the Good News according to us?

To follow Jesus is not only about worshipping God on Sunday mornings as we join together at church. No, following Jesus calls us into remember something very important on a daily basis. Those of us who eat the Bread of Life, the Body of Christ, the Bread of Heaven, are in that moment remembering that we are part of God’s household. But, we are called to always re-member the Body of Christ and to know that we are God's children always. Every day we are challenged to live into the truth that we are Christ’s friends and through him fellow children of the Divine.

We do not like when people claim that they are of a higher position than we think that they are. We want them to prove it first, but the truth is that all of us are children of God by no effort of our own. All of us are members of God’s household. All of us are called to live into the limitless love that Christ showed us. Don't be troubled with the Divine. Remember that you are one of God's own children!