The bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh. . .
I know a little
girl whose name is Sylvia. She’s eight
years old now, but I’d like to share something that she said when she was just
four years old. I’ve never really forgotten
it because it was at once, wildly silly and beautifully childlike and at the
same time, pretty observant with language that was wise beyond her years.
One day, out of
nowhere, Sylvia suddenly brought up a topic with an intriguing introductory sentence. She said, “I’m going to tell you something
that isn’t true, but it’s also Very True.”
Hmm. . . what an interesting way to
introduce something. . . It isn’t true, but
it’s also Very True. . . Sounds like
some kind of metaphysical riddle, like something of absolute depth was about to
come out of her mouth. . . “Well, what
is it, Sylvia?”
“Did you know
that Tweety Bird can fly AND hold things because she has wings AND arms?!?”
Yep, there it it
is. At once, wildly silly and
beautifully childlike and at the same time, observant with language that was
wise beyond her years. It really
was. She had observed that most birds
don’t have wings and arms, but the cartoon Tweety Bird did. And since Tweety Bird is a cartoon, she isn’t
real, so this observation “isn’t true,” but at the same time, according to four-year
old Sylvia, somehow wings and arms both get to the crux of who Tweety
Bird is and what she can do (fly and hold things at the same time!) so the
observation is also Very True. It isn’t
true but it’s also Very True.
Well, that
language has stuck with me over the years, and I find myself thinking about it
from time to time. Not True but also
Very True. And I found myself thinking
of it again this week when I began to study the passage we just heard from the
Gospel of John. Jesus tells his
followers what they must do in this passage, and let’s just be honest here. The language is pretty graphic. It involves eating his flesh and drinking his
blood, and that sounds kind of cannibalistic.
Now of course, we know that isn’t really what he meant, and we might not
want to admit in church that our minds kind of moved in this direction. But we can be honest: Some of us went
there. Thank goodness we don’t have to
take this command to eat flesh and drink blood at face value.
I’m going to
insert something here that theologian John Dominic Crossan says, that no one
actually takes the Bible completely literally.
He says, “When the Bible tells that Jesus is the Lamb of God, no one
says that Mary had a little lamb!” (I
love that).
And that reminder
might be helpful for us today. This
language might not be the first set of words we would use to describe our
relationship with Jesus. But it has
something to say to us. We don’t have to
take it at face value, but that also means we also don’t have to dismiss
it. We now get to enter one of those
wonderful situations of faith where something isn’t true, but is at the same
time, Very True.
Jesus says, “The
bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” When we think of Jesus giving his flesh, we
might think of what we know to be true: That
Jesus was eventually crucified, killed unjustly on a cross. And around here, we say that that Jesus died
for a reason. It wasn’t in order to
offer up some kind blood and gore on our account. No, Jesus died because he lived a life of
such radical love that he threatened those who were in power. Do you know why radical love can threaten
those in power? Radical love does that
because it goes to those who have no power.
Radical love sits with the powerless and loves them through and through
as the people they are -- people worth love, value, and attention. People who love radically like Jesus did, naturally
challenge structures of power because they love the powerless, and by choosing
to be with them, they tear down the very barriers that have made them excluded. That’s how Jesus lived. That’s Very
True. And we believe that Jesus
modeled that love – love for the powerless and love for you and me – even unto
death if that’s what it took to show God’s love, even unto death on a
cross. He never stopped loving all the
way there.
“The
bread I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” Jesus didn’t say, “The bread I will give for
the life of the world is a bunch of ideas.”
Or “The bread I will give for the life of the world is bunch of really
good theological propositions.” Or even,
“The bread I will give for the life of the world is a blueprint to implement
forms of charity that help people, but keep them at arms’ length so that they
remain anonymous.” No. Jesus is the Bread that has come down from heaven. He aims to give himself
to us. He aims to live on our
behalf. He does it now. He gives himself.
And what are we
to do? We are to focus our energy and
attention so deeply on him that we take this kind of life in. We take it to be within
ourselves. He is the bread, and he is
the life-blood that is to be in our bones.
Eating flesh and drinking blood?
Not true. But consuming this
great love and putting it into action? That is Very
True. That’s the Very True life to
which are called.
We
have people in this church who know what it’s like to feel powerless.
We
have people who know what the cancer wing of the hospital is like.
We
have people who know the deep and abiding fear that someday they might lose
their mental faculties or memories, and we have spouses and adult children and
grandchildren in this church who have painfully watched this happen to people they
love.
We
have people who are bright, intelligent, and gifted in various ways, but who
have struggled deeply to know whether they’ll have a job and enough money to
pay the bills.
And
we have people in this church who come here weekly for food assistance. It feels as though this economy has eaten
them and spit them out. Many of them
speak Spanish. Some of them are fearful about discrimination and
deportation. All of them have great
gifts and abilities, great hope and dreams for themselves and their children.
Some
of us give food and money to help them.
And this is a great start. But I ask
myself some tough questions and wonder if Jesus would do something differently
if he walked in this church. I wonder he
would stand in the food line with them.
I’m certain he would know their names.
I am a pastor of this church, and I am ashamed to tell you that I only
know a handful of names of the people from Spanish Language Ministry. Isn’t that sad?
I know some
people, and that’s good. I say hello to
them on Sunday mornings, and that’s a start.
But it’s just a start. I bet the
Very True life calls you and me to know these people by name and to love them,
to go over and sit with them sometime, to even work really hard to learn their
language. After all, so many of them
have worked hard and are working hard now to learn ours. What if we learned theirs too? I bet we wouldn’t just learn vocabulary
words. I bet we would learn about human
lives – stories, passions, dreams, struggles.
Maybe those are the kinds of things we need to eat. Maybe we need to eat the Bread from heaven of
being together and loving. Maybe we need
to eat the Life-Blood that says, “I’m not just going to do things anonymously
for you. I’m going to enter kinship with
you and let you change my life.”
That is the Very
True kind of life. That is the kind of
life where people eat around the same table and consume who Jesus is and how he
lived. I wonder, how will you live the
Very True kind of life, loving most deeply and living for that which matters
most? How will you do it, and how will
this church do it? I can’t wait to
discover this feast. I can’t wait. Let’s find out. Amen.
Renee Roederer, Associate Pastor, and the Community at Pasadena Presbyterian Church
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