Sermon for the Tenth Sunday after Pentecost, July 28, 2024
2 Samuel 11:1-15+Psalm 14+Ephesians 3:14-21+John 6:1-21
As is the custom in most seminaries and schools of divinity, there is sort of a rite of passage called the "senior sermon." It is just what the name implies, a sermon delivered in one's final year of studies, generally given in the context of community worship. I heard a lot of these in my three years at Yale, and some of them were outstanding. Some of them were...not. There is a temptation to try to do too much, to demonstrate how much you know or how smart you are. Lest you think I am being judgmental, early in my preaching life, I fell victim to this temptation, too. It kind of goes with the territory as you try to find your voice.
There were a few senior sermons that have stayed with me for one reason or another, and one in particular was given by a Lutheran guy from Nebraska who had worked in a bakery to help put himself through college, and so right there in the middle of chapel, he had a large bowl and measuring utensils, some yeast and flour and salt and water, and as he talked about Jesus as the bread of life, he created bread dough, shaping it into a loaf, covering it to rise. At communion, the bread we ate was bread he had made earlier in the day - fresh, with a chewy crust and moist crumb. It was for those of us gathered the body of Christ, made and broken for us.
We are at the beginning of a series of readings from John's gospel that are known in biblical studies circles as the "bread discourse." This bread discourse comes around every three years, and for those of us who follow the Revised Common Lectionary, the question inevitably arises: what more can I possibly say about bread? Lucky for you, other voices will tackle this subject in the coming weeks, so my job this morning, I think, is to tee it up.
Last week, we were in the 6th chapter of Mark, but we jumped from the crowds seeking out Jesus in verse 34 to Jesus and the disciples crossing over the sea of Galilee again in verse 53. What we skipped in those intervening 19 verses was the feeding of the 5,000, and event that occurs in all four gospels, but here in John, it has a similar setting of Jesus and the Twelve "crossing over" yet being followed by the crowds who had witnessed the signs and wonders Jesus performed. These are people who are desperate and in need. Mark tells us that Jesus "had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd" (Mark 6:34). And so, in John's telling, Jesus enlists the help not just of the disciples but of the gathered crowd, in this case, a boy who offers his lunch.
There are a couple of details we should not miss. One is that John makes a point of telling us that the Passover is near. Jesus does not seem to be in a hurry to go down to Jerusalem for the festival, but including this would seem to remind us that the deliverance of the people from Pharaoh commemorated at the Passover included provision for feeding them with manna in the wilderness. The second thing to note is that the boy had barley loaves to offer. Barley was the food of the poor because it was easy to grow, matured quickly, and didn’t require much water or attention. It was not for those of refined tastes. It was for those who needed bread to survive.
And this is why they come to Jesus. They are hungry. Sure, they are seeking healing and care, but they have grumbling bellies that never seem to be filled. Jesus knows they need to be liberated from their oppression and freed to live lives in peace and sufficiency, but first he knows that they are hungry. And so, he feeds them. There is such contrast between that great king of Israel, David, who had a man killed so that he could have his wife (among other wicked deeds), and Jesus, the One who comes to offer joy and abundance. The people want to make him a king, but he slips away. He's not that kind of king. He's a leader who knows what the people need first - to be fed - if they are going to be ready for the kind of liberation he is here to bring.
John inserts the last bit about Jesus walking on water almost as an afterthought. It was clearly part of the tradition that had grown up in the context of this story of a miraculous feeding, as if to reveal to the disciples, at least, that he wasn't there just to fill bellies, but to have mastery over the deep where the forces of evil lurked. He was no ordinary prophet or healer, but God incarnate.
Most of us do not wake up in the morning wondering where our next meal will come from. We are, for the most part, not acquainted with physical hunger - the kind where a barley loaf could make a feast. But don't forget that, having their physical hunger satiated, the people still followed. Next week, we'll hear Jesus accuse them of just wanting more bread, but he offers them still something more. He offers himself, and this is, after all, the theme of all four gospels. Jesus came to offer himself to us, to save us from ourselves, and bring us back into right relationship with God. Our need for this, our hunger for this, draws us to this place, to this table week in and week out. A bit of communion bread will not satisfy our physical hunger, but it can and will fill us with the life-giving presence of Christ.
We are not invited here simply to have our taste of Jesus and then to go on our way. We are invited here to be transformed by the one who is the Bread of Life. And we are sent to take that life-giving news into a hungry world.
What more is there to say about bread? Our very lives can tell that story over and over again.