The Bread of LIfe

2 Samuel 18:5-9, 15, 31-33

Ephesians 4:25 - 5:2

John 6:35-51

         As we look at the passage from John for today I am struck with a basic difference between the people that Jesus was speaking to and us.  We, in this congregation, are a people who do not worry about where our next meal is coming from.  We know that we will eat, often; and enough, sometimes more than enough.  So those words that we hear today, “I am the bread of life…(followed by words referencing the manna that fed the Israelites when they were truly struggling to find food in the desert, and then continuing): I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”  These words promising bread that will enable Jesus’ hearers to eat, to not go hungry, to live – these words don’t have nearly as much impact on people who are comfortable and who have enough to eat, as they did for those who were not always assured of where their next meal was coming from. 

For people who were hungry, these words were promising another day of living; but more, they were promising a life freed from the anxiety of worrying about their next meal, or the next or the next.  It promises that with Jesus’ sacrifice, life is abundant, everlasting, eternal – and again, without hunger, without craving, without emptiness and without fear.  We understand these words to be about something much bigger than fulfilling hunger. We understand that the life Jesus was promising was not the daily life that we live. He spoke in parables, in metaphors and here he is not talking about physical hunger. Still, in a place, within an experience, where life is so fragile, so precarious, so short, and so full of the fear and reality of hunger, a promise of everlasting bread spoke to Jesus’ hearers so much more than it possibly could for any who have not suffered shortage of food.

Sarah Miles, in her book Take this Bread, said, “it’s the really hungry who can smell fresh bread a mile away.  For those who know their need, God is immediate – not an idea, not a theory, but life, food, air for the stifled spirit and the beaten, despised, exploited body.”  That is what is offered in communion, in this last supper, in the sacrament of that meal.  We are offered food, yes, but more we are offered life, we are offered God’s presence here in this meal.  Sarah Miles continued, “What Jesus offered was a radical…love that accompanied people in the most ordinary actions – eating, drinking, walking, and stayed with them, through fear, even past death.”  She connects all of this with Jesus’ call and command to Peter…She said, “I couldn’t stop thinking about another (Biblical) story: Jesus instructing his beloved, fallible disciple Peter exactly how to love him:  ‘Feed my sheep.’  Jesus asked, “Do you love me?”  Peter fussed, “Of course I love you.’  “Feed my sheep.”  Peter fussed some more.  “Do you love me?” asked Jesus again.  “Then feed my sheep.”  It seemed pretty clear.  If I wanted to see God, I could feed people.”  We talked about this last week: somehow that act of feeding others, and allowing others to feed us, connects us to God in a way that is hard to explain, but deeply profound.  God IS the bread of life.  Jesus exemplifies that for us, but also calls us to share that bread of life with one another.  This is both metaphoric and literal.  Feeding others, making sure others have enough to eat, to live: both at a physical level and at a spiritual level: that is what we are called, most deeply to do.  What do others need that we have?  And what are the ways in which we are called to share that, every single day?  This is what stewardship is about.  We are entrusted with God’s resources in order to share them, to make sure that all have what they need.  And again, this extends far beyond food: education, well-being, health care, companionship, the right to live free of fear from violence or persecution.  These are not things we have earned: these are graces, lent to us by God so that we might share them with others.  Nothing we have is ours.  All of it is God’s.  And our call, always, is to share our bread, share our resources, share God’s gifts with those most in need of them.

Those who are fed by God, not by daily food, necessarily, but by God, those people, no matter how poor they are themselves, those people find within them the strength and gift of feeding others. Greg Mortensen begins his book, The Three Cups of Tea by recounting his story of finding himself in an impoverished Pakistan village after a failed attempt to climb K2.  He was exhausted, he was sick, and yet these poor strangers fed him, cared for him.  The story continues, “(Mortensen) took a bite of warm chapatti dunked in lassi, wolfed all that he’d been served, and washed it down with sugary tea.  Sakina laughed appreciatively and brought him more.  If  Mortensen had known how scarce and precious sugar was to the Balti, how rarely they used it themselves, he would have refused the second cup of tea.”  The story goes on to explain how he had also been given by them their best blankets, their best food, their best everything, things they had so little of, things they did not use for themselves.  They found in the midst of their physical poverty, but their spiritual wealth, that they had this to share.  And they began it all with “communion” – with sharing the food of life with this stranger.  Those who find their fulfillment from God always find that they have something to share, no matter what they lack.

There is a story about a young student who had to be away from his fiancée for a few months as she travelled overseas to do peace work.  This was agony for him, to be so separated from his love.  He was sad and depressed.  He was on a bus traveling back to school, and the bus stopped at the Greyhound station, a rather dreary place.  He sat down on an unraveling, revolving seat at a dirty counter.  The counter was U-shaped, so he found himself sitting across from an old woman.  She saw him and said, “Honey, you sure do look depressed.”  He said, “I am, and before he knew it, he was crying.  The woman reached across the counter to pat his cheek with a dirt-under-the-fingernail hand and he pulled back when he saw it.  She simply asked, “What’s wrong, honey?” and he told her about his fiancée, and how much he loved her, and how much he missed her.  He showed the woman her picture.  The woman said, “Oh, I’ve never seen such a beautiful young woman.”  Then she began to tell him that she had been married to a traveling salesman who had since passed away.  And she related how they used to weep, both of them, each time he had to go away, but how happy they were when he returned.  She said, “You’re going to have a wonderful marriage.  Everything’s going to be fine.”  Then she suggested that he might feel better if he had something to eat, so she ordered a donut from under the scratchy plastic.  And the woman took the donut, broke it, and she gave it to him.  As she did, an announcement came over the loudspeaker and she said, “O my goodness!  My bus is here.”  And she disappeared.  Only then were his eyes opened and he recognized the visitation, God’s presence, in the breaking of the donut.

Again, in that need, and in the feeding, the fulfilling, the answering of that hunger, both physical and emotional, God was recognized.  In food, in the fulfilling of hunger God fulfills deeper needs.  God is present in this food, in this meal and God fills us. 

A Facebook acquaintance posted this story: "When I go through a drive-thru the person taking my order says something like, "does that complete your order?" I always respond by saying, "unless you would like me to buy you something." Usually they will giggle and say they appreciate it, but decline. The young lady today asked, "are you serious?" I told her to add her meal to my order. When I got to the window, there was this young lady with tears streaming down her face. She thanked me profusely and began to tell me her story. Folks, you never know what others are going through. The people taking your order at the fast food place are often working 2-3 jobs just to get by. This young lady was working 3 jobs, pregnant, and was evicted from her apartment yesterday. She now lives in her car. All this info because I bought her a salad ... yes, she ordered herself a salad. When we take time to be kind to one another, we open up the possibility of connecting with people. I'm not sharing this story to hear accolades. I'm sharing it in hopes you will step out of your comfort zone and dare to be the kind, connectional person God created you to be. Who knows ... you may just be the image of God that person needs at that moment. That's worth the $6 and 45 minutes I spent with her... yes, I had lunch with her and gave her lots of community resources to connect with." 

As I read that story, I found myself thinking that it was not just the young woman who was fed by this exchange.  The person who posted the story was fed too: God is in those meals, God is with us whenever we offer our gifts to share with others.

There is a poem I’d like to share with you called the “enough” poem.  It reads:

I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how gray the day may appear.

I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more.

I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.

I wish you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger. 

I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.

I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.

I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good- bye. (Credited to Bob Perks)

In our wants, in our needs, in our pain, in the hungers that fill our lives – hunger for bread, for connection, for comfort, for ease of pain or grief or sorrow – in those hungers Jesus comes to us and offers himself – his very being to fill this our hunger, to feed our needs, to fill our desires, to fill our hopes and dreams and deepest yearnings to connect to LOVE.  As we eat our meals today, with one another or separately, may our eyes be opened to seeing God with us in this meeting of our basic needs, to tasting the goodness of everlasting life and love.  May we be fed in the breaking of the bread, and may we meet Jesus anew in the fulfillments of the hungers of ourselves and those around us.  Amen.