Ninth Sunday after Pentecost

 

More than Enough

For the next five Sundays, including today, in our reading from the Gospel of John, we will explore what Jesus means by declaring that he is the “Bread of Life”.

We begin with Jesus feeding the five thousand in John 6:1-15 and end with John 6:60-69 and some of Jesus’ followers leaving because they could not accept his teachings about who he was. Today, and in the four succeeding Sundays, we are asked to reflect on our hunger for righteousness and how it is unlike any other longing we have; in fact, it is the only longing we cannot satisfy ourselves.

We begin this series with hungry people, a lot of hungry people—-five thousand according to the gospel, but, of course, that is only counting the men! 

Our reading from 2 Kings also involves feeding a hungry crowd though only two percent of the crowd Jesus faced. Two very important elements connect the two stories: signs and abundance.  In both stories, the events were considered “signs”, or markers that pointed towards a new existence. For Elisha, the sign wasn’t entirely clear: amidst famine, God provides—-God as a refuge in times of trouble. Samira, the place of Elisha’s “sign” was currently experiencing a famine, and the barley loaves set before the prophet Elisha became the blessing not only to be sufficient but to be a sign of God’s abundance in the face of famine.

Likewise in today’s gospel, Jesus is faced with the doubt of his claim that what was brought before him would be sufficient to feed the hungry crowd (this time, five thousand—at least). Again, what was considered insufficient was not only sufficient but an abundance as evidenced by leftovers. In fact, there were more leftovers than the original number of loaves and fishes: “twelve wicker baskets of fragments”. The leftovers symbolized the Twelve as Jesus’ core disciple retinue, but also the link to the twelve “remnant” tribes of Israel, ten of whom have been lost.

The people of Israel themselves are signs of God’s abundance, and though small in the scale of the people of the world, more than sufficient for “feeding” the world and announcing God in their midst.

But, like so many times in Jesus’ ministry, he is mistaken as the Messiah/king who will drive out the Romans and usher in a new kingdom of righteousness with Israel’s greatness once again established and God’s blessing upon them. Today’s gospel ends with Jesus retreating into solitude. He needed time to regroup and realized that a great deal of further instruction was necessary because his “sign” was woefully misinterpreted.

The expectation of God’s abundance often translates into earthly wealth and power. Entire “prosperity gospel” themes are broadcast to hundreds of thousands of hungry people. But the sad truth of these distortions of Jesus’ message is that the food of material wealth and power has no spiritual nutrition; it's all empty calories. If you are hungry for power and money, then Christianity offers you nothing. If you hunger and thirst for righteousness, then pull up a seat at the table.

God’s bread feeds the truly hungry with food that will satisfy humanity’s deepest longing. As we will see as we progress through the sixth chapter of John, Jesus returns and opens us this mystery of being the Bread of Life.

Sixth Sunday after Pentecost

 Ordained Ministry: Sufficient Grace

"Because our value is a gift, we don't have to prove ourselves, only to express ourselves, and what a world of difference there is between proving ourselves and expressing ourselves"--William Sloane Coffin, Credo

Jesus utters that famous line in Mark today: "A prophet is not without honor except in his native place and among his own kin and in his own house".  It is a bitter pronouncement, tinged with frustration.  It is remarkable that the author of Mark observes "So he was not able to perform any mighty deed there, apart from curing a few sick people . . . ."  Who wouldn't consider any healing a "mighty deed"?  A closer inspection of the gospel doesn't reveal Jesus' inability to heal, but his inability to bring people to faith in spite of the healing.  The incredulous response Jesus received was because he was a local boy.  Somehow, imagining someone we know well being spiritually advanced is difficult.  We don't do well seeing the extraordinary spring from the ordinary, but Jesus' birth and the arc of his life were spent revealing to the less-than-ordinary, the extraordinary.  Jesus' amazement at his hometown community's lack of faith leads him to appoint twelve disciples to go in pairs to extend his ministry.  It is a crucial transition in Jesus' ministry from being the sole font of healing and wisdom to establishing a community of healers and preachers. 

Paul's confession of being "content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and constraints" could have come from the mouth of Christ just as easily.  One of the huge traps of the spiritual life for preachers, teachers, and priests is the "messiah complex"--the belief that we are God's greatest conduit for spiritual transmission.  This gospel reminds me well of even Jesus had to confront failure and lack of faith.  His response, however, is telling.  Instead of simply throwing up his hands and leaving, he moves away from himself to entrusting the mission to those closest to him.

People come to faith experiences with remarkable variety, but they almost always involve other, non-ordained people.  Relying on church leaders, ministers or priests to impart faith is a losing proposition.  At best, we plant seeds and touch people with God's grace-filled love at vulnerable times in their lives, but this is not the exclusive territory of church ministers.  Everyone is called to this ministry.  People may come to me for confession, but frequently they seek the religious brother or other non-ordained people to seek God's presence in a less formal way.  Being ordained keeps one occupied with church finances, organizing liturgies, and administrative tasks, such that it is easy to forget that our first responsibility is to nurture our relationship with God.  Henry Nouwen, a wonderful source of wisdom for ordained clergy, wrote that "in order to be of service to others, we have to die to them; that is, we have to give up measuring our meaning and value with the yardstick of others"(The Way of the Heart).

The drive to be a success in the religious life is more pernicious than "secular" life.  Nouwen's "yardstick" is the size of one's congregation, the number of books, speaking engagements, and theological degrees.  The measure of holiness can easily become the measure of what common society values; but social value is earned, fought for, and then displayed.  Spiritual value, or worth, springs from faith, the awareness of our value to God.  William Sloane Coffin, the wonderfully gifted preacher, wrote that "God's love doesn't seek value, it creates value.  It is not because we have value that we are loved, but because we are loved that we have value.  Our value is our gift, not an achievement" (Credo).