When it comes
to the art of redirection, there aren’t many folks more adept than our
talented day school teachers. I mean, at times, it’s a thing of beauty to
stand back and watch them as they interact with the children, on the
playground, in the classroom, at lunch, even when we gather for chapel on
Wednesday mornings. Not always, but sometimes new students react with tears
and sadness when they’re apart from Mom and Dad for the first time. For
some, all it takes is a few days for them to take off, but for others the
behavior can continue for some time and actually begin to disrupt the
routine. When it gets to that point, Debra and the other teachers go to
work to help the child along—with some gentle, loving encouragement and more
than a few tricks. “Hey, why don’t we go outside and play on the
playground.” Or “Let’s color a picture for Mommy.” Or if that doesn’t work
then there is always the old standby. “How about a snack?” Nine times out
of ten, it works, maybe not right away, but eventually even the most
homesick child relents so that in time, mom and dad can hardly get their
little one to go home at the end of the day. “Redirection”—in the immortal
words of Martha Stewart “it is a good thing!”
But when it
comes to redirecting the situation, no one tops Jesus. Think of all the
times that people come to him, wanting something from him, looking for
answers, even trying to put him to the test. By the time Jesus gets
finished with them though, after the smoke finally clears, it can be
difficult to remember what the presenting issue was to begin with. Take the
parable of the Good Samaritan for example. It was initiated by a simple
question. “And just who is my neighbor?” But as Jesus tells about what
happened to the poor, beat up guy by the side of the road, the real question
becomes “what does it mean to be a neighbor?” Or remember the woman
at the well who came looking for water to drink, but went away with the gift
of living water. And again, when the hungry crowds looking for bread chase
him down in Capernaum, Jesus shifts the focus from mere loaves to, the food
that perishes to the “food that that endures for eternal life, which the Son
of man will give.” Taste then and see the food that Jesus has to offer.
Good or bad
seems like everyone is looking for signs. It’s human nature. The
unrelenting heat of August has arrived and so now we look to the sky for
signs of rain, if only a few drops. Increasing global temperatures, risings
levels of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, polar ice caps melting at an
alarming rate, the signs of global warming grow more ominous with every
passing year. Three weeks into the war in Lebanon, the world looks for a
glimmer of hope, for signs of peace. We’re alert to signs in our personal
lives too—the peculiar ache that just won’t go away, the child once so happy
and content who has become withdrawn and sad, the proverbial “handwriting on
the wall” that tells us whether we’ll have a job next year or not.
They may have
come to Capernaum looking for bread to fill their hungry stomachs, but as
far as crowds go, as far as Jesus’ redirection is concerned, they do seem
pretty quick on the uptake. “What sign are you going to give us then, so
that we may see and believe? What work are you performing? Our ancestors
ate manna in the wilderness.” Their questions express the kind of honest,
raw inquisitiveness of any honest religious seeker. Gilbert was a kind and
decent older fellow in my first parish whose heartfelt intercessions in
prayer group gave voice to what everyone wants. “Lord, can’t you just give
us a little sign, so we can believe, nothing big mind you, just a little
something?” I dare say that there are times in all of our lives when we
haven’t up a similar petition—in a world of doubt and unbelief,
just a little something, Lord.
How incredibly ironic
then that the challenge put to Jesus comes but a day after Jesus gave them
bread to eat and not just a little bit, but abundantly, so much so that they
figured he must be “the prophet who is come into the world” to the point
that they even wanted to come, take him by force and make him their king.
But of course, Jesus would have nothing of that. Now, here in Capernaum he
rebukes them, in effect saying to them “You can forget about me doling out
any more bread for you and shame on you for coming here expecting me to do
so. Instead, don’t waste your energy striving for food like that. Work for
the food that sticks with you, food that nourishes you your lasting life,
food that the Son of Man provides.”
It’s as if
there is a distinction being made here between literal or material food and
figurative food. Material food is the stuff we put in our mouths for
breakfast, lunch and dinner and snacks in between. Figurative food on the
other hand has to do with spiritual nourishment. But if that is the case,
what then does Jesus’ message say to the 840 million people living in the
world today who don’t have enough to sustain their hungry bodies? To them
these words sound callous and uncaring. If that be the case, then it would
be better if Jesus’ words were deleted from the Bible altogether.
And yet, we
need to recognize that what motivates those who followed Jesus was not
physical hunger per se. While they may have been famished, still they had
the strength to track Jesus down over a considerable distance. Then, when
Jesus tells them what they need to do, they respond by asking what they have
to do to perform the works of God. Then when Jesus assures them that he
will provide them with true bread, they want him to give it to them always.
So, is speaking here more to a kind of receptiveness, an openness to
receiving his word.
At the same
time, maybe what we have here isn’t so much a contrast between inferior and
superior nourishment as it is a kind of tension between desire and
satisfaction.
While they have come looking for something to eat, Jesus doesn’t oblige but
instead redirects them, leaves them wanting something else, something more.
“How do we perform the works of God?” So, when it comes to appetite, Jesus
is more about arousing it than he is suppressing it.
Seems a bit
odd for well-fed, privileged people like us to speak of our own hunger, and
yet what of the hunger that Jesus arouses in us today—a hunger for
forgiveness and hope, a hunger for purpose and direction, a hunger for
healing in a broken relationship, a hunger for peace in our lives and peace
in our world? Just what are we hungry for? I suppose the only one who can
begin to answer the question is ourselves. There comes a point though that
even we don’t know what we’re really hungry for and we’ll do just about
anything to fill the aching, empty void in our lives—through more and more
work that will show just how capable we are, with drugs and alcohol that
serve to anestheticize us from life’s problems, with that perfect
relationship with that perfect person who will make me happy.
But Jesus
comes to give us what we really need. He comes to give us himself, the food
that sticks with us, that nourishes us our lasting life, food that is
guaranteed to last. And today, we share in his nourishment, in the hearing
of His Word, in the receiving of his body and blood, broken and shed for us,
that meal which is but a foretaste of the feast to come, when all hunger is
satisfied and we share with Christ the fullness of eternal life.
Through
Christ, God gives us what we need so that now the Spirit can help us to
perform the works of God, to make known love so deep, so broad, so high, to
serve as vessels out of which flow healing and mercy for all—feeding the
hungry, clothing the naked, standing with the poor and oppressed,
proclaiming release to the captive, inviting others to come and see what
wonder God has done for us.
And the Spirit
is at work here at Ascension Lutheran Church, helping us perform the works
of God through our own ministry too—as together we proclaim God’s love in
worship and learning, as we support one another and our neighbor, as we
share our gifts and as we welcome all in Christ’s name. As we gather for
worship and share in the Holy Supper, through the ministry of our day school
and medical lending closet, as we pray for one another and share in the gift
of community, as we imagine God’s dream for us we perform the works of God.
In Jesus, the world’s deep need is met. In him,
we have life, abundant life, life meant to be shared. For the life we
share, for the life He shares, let us give thanks and praise. Amen.