Sermon from Grace and St Stephen's August 22

 

John 6:56-69

          Many of you may know by now that I have thrown my hat into the ring for an upcoming local election.  It is true, I am now a bit of a politician, although trying to manifest only the positive aspects of that.  It has been a wild ride full of learning, meeting new people and studying everything from educational funding in Colorado to yard sign prices.  It also means that I have managed to find one more area of my life in which I am completely dependent on volunteers.  Being a pastor, running a youth group, various boards and committees, PTA, other school involvement- all of these things that I have devoted my life to have one thing in common- they depend on volunteers.  And now I have added a campaign to the mix.

          It is a tricky thing, enlisting others to give of their time.  You want to start soft, so as not to scare them away and also to make sure you can rely on this person.  The last thing anyone wants is a family playing Mary, Jesus and Joseph that doesn’t show up on Christmas Eve.  When you find really great, reliable, passionate people you want to say “will you please do this major responsibility that will be hard and take a lot of time but we really need you!” but you realize all that will get you is a hole in the wall shaped like their body as they flee as fast as possible.  And when someone comes up to you and says “I want to volunteer, what can I do.”  I find myself so overwhelmed with relief, disbelief and ideas that I may only manage to say something ridiculous like “great, can you carry this piece of paper to the other end of the room.”  And then regret the wasted opportunity. 

          Now before you start getting anxious about what sign-up sheets will be passed out at the end of this sermon, please be at ease, this is not a drawn out attempt at finding someone to manage the dunk tank at the church picnic next week … although … if you feel so moved … I could use that.  But rather, this is my reaction to the Gospel reading today.  The first thing that stood out to me are all the people who bailed on Jesus.  After Jesus’ words about eating his body and drinking his blood and his assertion that he is the Son of Man, John writes, “Because of this, many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him.”  Jesus was not into the soft sell.  It was eat my flesh or go home.  And many of them did go home.

        It’s a bit hard for us to imagine today.  Here we are thousands of years later worshipping Jesus who we never even got to see walking around doing miracles.  These early followers decided to leave after they saw the miracle of the loaves and fishes, Jesus walking on water and they got to hear all of his teachings first hand and be in his physical, earthly presence.  It’s hard to imagine walking away from the Son of God standing right in front of you.

           At the same time, I kind of get it.  In verse 60 the disciples say “This teaching is difficult.” Scholars say that the word difficult could also be interpreted here as “unacceptable, hard, offensive.”[1]  He was telling people to eat his flesh and drink his blood.  Definitely an offensive ask without the hindsight we have now and the Eucharistic understanding we carry.  And it was offending a lot of people, people with status, people with learning, people with power. 

          It was also going to get violent.  His flesh would be broken, his blood spilled … he would be killed and it would be gruesome.  So, yeah I get why some people might decide to cut and run at that point.  Jesus isn’t asking for someone to bring a dish to the Passover potluck.  He is asking them to stick with him through despair, violence, offensive teachings and death.  And to stand with him against a lot of people who wanted him to go away. 

         Sometimes I want to cut and run and the stakes aren’t even that high.  Sometimes life just seems completely overwhelming.  The other day I saw a sweatshirt advertised that said “what if it all works out?”  I have come up with a lot of “what ifs” in my lifetime and that one almost never makes it into my thoughts.  We don’t know how things are going to go.  We don’t know if covid will keep getting worse, if we or our loved ones will get a bad case, if we are making the best decisions right now, or when it will all work out.  We don’t know how tests, elections and hard conversations will go.  Meanwhile the news is full of scary stuff.  People in Haiti getting pounded by natural disasters, hazy air from raging wildfires, desperate people chasing planes in Afghanistan and full hospitals.  When we go about our work of doing good in the world, of bearing hope, of boldly speaking for peace and love … sometimes the uphill climb is overwhelming.  And perhaps you, like me, have moments where it feels like too much. 

          Then the question goes from, how could those early disciples walk away from Jesus to how did Jesus manage to keep anyone around?  It is a big ask.  “Follow me” even when everyone else is saying not to. “Follow me” even when it feels like too much.  “Follow me” even when the blood is shed and the flesh broken and it seems as though all hope is lost.  All it will take is your whole life, your heart, your mind, your spirit …

          This makes me think of a hike my family did a couple weeks ago.  It was at the end of a vacation where we hiked a lot and it was a hazy, hot day but we decided to stop at Hoosier Pass.  The views were amazing, but at such a high elevation the breathing was getting harder and the steep paths were making our legs burn.  Our kids started to express their doubts.  I started to wonder if they were right.  Maybe we should just enjoy the views from where we are, it is getting hot and harder to catch my breath.  How long would the path go, what if it gets harder, the kids have little legs, maybe it’s time to go back?  We decided to go just until a curve in the path and just see what’s on the other side.  As we neared the turn we all felt pretty good about turning around soon, but then we saw how near we were to the top and suddenly our legs had more stamina, our breathing felt more steady and it didn’t seem so bad after all.  So we went to the top, we took some pictures, breathed in the cool mountaintop breeze and headed back down feeling accomplished. 

        Our calling to follow Christ is more than a hike up a mountain, probably more like many hikes up many mountains with lots of tripping and falling along the way.  But like that rough patch in the hike, what matters is our spirit.  Jesus had a difficult ask.  He never did the soft sell, always after the full commitment.  Always after unconditional devotion.  There are no persuasive essays, fancy ads or eloquent stump speeches that can make that kind of conversion.  It has to come from the spirit.  It has to come from God’s spirit within and around us. 

          Preachers can talk until their voices give out, music can create an emotional response, technology can wow us but what it all comes down to is the same as it was when Jesus looked at those disciples and basically said “so, are you in?” The revelation of God through Jesus Christ is the same as it was and the same as it will be.  The commitment Jesus asks has not changed.  The promise of God’s presence in the bread and wine, the assurance of salvation, the unconditional love of God, it’s all still there. 

          And today, all this time later we will be confronted with the flesh of Christ and asked if we want to keep following.  It is more than a sign-up sheet, more than a time commitment, more than a raised hand.  It is a giving over of our hearts made possible only by the Holy Spirit.  God’s grace calls us, the Spirit nudges us, Jesus asks us … are you in? 

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[1] Moloney, Francis J. Sacra Pagina: The Gospel of John. The Liturgical Press, 1998. Pp 225