Filled With The Bread of Life
Commentary
One of the joys of Thanksgiving is having a reason to give thanks to our Creator. Some years its more difficult to give thanks. For many of us these past two years there were tough choices to be made in the midst of the pandemic, and as I write this, though I am an optimist, I consider myself a realistic optimist. We have the assurance from God’s Word that, in the words of Julian of Norwich, “All will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of things will be well.” That’s true for the long term. Sometimes it’s true for the short term as well.
In Deuteronomy 26:1-11, Moses addresses the people while they’re still have-nots, and impresses upon them that this vital harvest ritual of thanksgiving must include the memory of tougher times.
Paul invites us in this passage from Philippians to celebrate what is best in us. We already know what is the worst in us. People are already to tell each other what they don’t. Our culture has turned us into demonizers, unable to be civil in the face of disagreement. But as I read this listing of the things we ought to be calling out and recognizing in each other, I see faces – the faces of loved ones, friends, and total strangers who are still with us, and others who have gone beyond to their reward. And I smile.
Finally, getting stuffed on more food than we should eat is part of feasting, and Jesus provided an unexpected feast with twelve baskets of leftovers when the meal was over for a guestlist of thousands. This feeding of the multitudes, like our own Thanksgiving dinners, should point us like a signpost to Jesus. When we follow, to the cross, and beyond,to the resurrection, we are truly filled with the Bread of Life.
Deuteronomy 26:1-11, Psalm 100
Moses addressed the people after forty years in the desert, forty years dependent on God’s gift of manna in the desert, the prelude to a time when by the sweat of their brow the people could find joy in hard work and good food, or renewing the covenant of the land in the land. This history lesson is also the first liturgy in scripture. Moses was concerned that the people after a few years would begin to think that their blessings were somehow their own doing. They had not always been settled in the promised land. They were to declare to the priest receiving the offering, “Today I declare to the Lord your God that I have come into the land that the Lord swore to our ancestors to give us.” (26:3). Moreover, after the priest had laid the basket with their offering (see the Emphasis I wrote for this reading this week) on the altar, each farmer was to say, “A wandering Aramean was my ancestor; he went down in Egypt and lived there as an alien, few in numbers…., and there be became a great nation, mighty and populous.” (26:5) He would recite the story of their liberation from slavery, and the arrival in this precious land. Not only that, this celebration of thanksgiving was to be shared “with the Levites, the aliens, the orphans, and the widows, so that they may eat their fill within your towns.” (26:13) This reminds me of the attitude of some in our country who, having lived in the United States for a few generations or maybe even a couple hundred years, forget that we are a nation of immigrants. We forget the disadvantaged, the marginalized, and we demonize the new wave of immigrants.
Let’s focus on those words “a wandering Aramean….” In other portions of scripture, Arameans are portrayed as the enemy. Some identify Abraham, some identify Jacob, as this wandering Aramean. Although many translations identify the Aramean as Abraham because of his wandering years, Jacob also wandered twenty years on the run from his brother. Not only that, Jacob and his eleven sons were facing starvation before they were saved by their long lost brother Joseph, who secured their invitation from Pharoah into Egypt. This is part of the story that is told. Robert Alter suggests that the meaning of the Hebrew verb ‘oved is closer to “lost” than “wandering,” and suggests the context implies being lost by being close to death by starvation. There are not many left of that generation that grew up during the Great Depression, but they never tired of telling us their stories of their adventures, their travels, their desperation during that time. The recessions we have endured have been difficult and bear remembering, but we cannot forget the Great Depression, and our desperation, any more than God’s people were to forget that they were Arameans, hated enemies, before God gave them their national identity.
Philippians 4:4-9
The Christians in the Philippi house churches are besieged from within and without. There are those who have come to the congregations and insisted that these largely Hellenized believers take upon themselves some of the requirements of the Torah. Bear in mind that the Apostle Paul, writing to these Philippians, himself receives great benefit from his upbringing and heritage, but his ministry has focused on insisting Macedonian, Greek, Roman, and Celtic Christians serve Jesus Christ through the lens of their backgrounds. These outside pressures are confusing the believers in Philippi.
In addition, some members are just not getting along. In Philippi 4:2-3, he pleads for Euodia and Syntyche “to be of the same mind in the Lord,” and for Sygygus, Clement, and other Christians work together to help these two women get along. Who knows what the disagreement was about, but disagreements between church members can tear a church apart quicker than theological or polity differences.
In spite of these pressures, Paul calls upon all the Philippians to “rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice.” (4:4) When he says, “The Lord is near he means that Jesus is literally near, close at hand, an unseen presence, always listening to what we say and seeing what we do. Act Like Jesus is with us because he is! In addition, however, the word near in Greek also means Jesus is coming again. He is on the way. He has almost arrived. Remember that, and act like you believe Jesus is among us, and returning in glory.
Calling upon everyone to put aside worry “but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.” (4:7) he lists things that are good about us. Have you ever around your Thanksgiving table asked folks what they’re thankful for? Some may make a little joke, some may evoke happy tears by naming good qualities, and some may struggle to say anything at all because of our differing personalities. So Paul is helping us, giving a checklist of things we ought to think about: “…whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” (4:8) Pausing during your message and inviting people to come together to share these things, perhaps projecting the list of this scripture verse so people can see it as they speak, may invite some who have not gotten along that well to say something positive about each other. Or maybe not. But Paul thought it was worth a try.
John 6:25-35
The people go looking for Jesus, not for the Bread of Life that transforms, but for more of that free bread.
In John’s gospel, the miracles are called signs because they point us to Jesus. They’re not simply wonders for their own sake. Take the Samaritan woman at the well, who listened to Jesus talk about living water, at first thinking he was offering a never empty bucket of water every day, but when she realized these were words of life, something greater, she was ready to change her life, and the life of everyone in her village, by being transformed.
But these people don’t want to be transformed. They want more bread. That’s evident in the dialogue that follows. The multitudes who ate their fill asked for another sign from Jesus, but Jesus told them this first sign should lead to belief. In this passage there are dueling interpretations of the scripture. The people misinterpreted the story of Moses, the wilderness, and the manna, demanding more, instead of recognizing the manna was a stopgap until the people arrived in the promised land. Jesus insisted the story wasn’t about Moses, it was about God’s saving care for the people, which is what “Jesus” means – saving, delivering, rescuing.
The people wanted Jesus to be the kind of king like Roman emperors, and conquering generals who had an eye on becoming emperors, provided bread and circuses for the masses. In John’s Gospel, the miracles are called signs because they point us to Jesus. They’re not simply wonders for their own sake.
In this passage, the people aren’t able to look beyond the sign of the bread to discover what Jesus meant when he said, “I am the Bread of Life.” But they’re not able to hear this. The dialogue is going to deteriorate even further in lectionary sections, because the people, unlike the Samaritan….this sentence seems to have ended abruptly?
For some people today, Jesus is nothing but their ticket to heaven. They want eternal bread and circuses and aren’t interested in the least in being transformed into the people of God right now. Jesus wants us to see in every shared meal, in every loaf of bread, in every time of fellowship, there is the possibility of transformation. Last week Jim Davis reminded us that what we have been missing in this pandemic are not just worship, prayer, music, and sermons. We’re getting that in abundance. Folks who sheltered in place during the early stages of the pandemic often chose to watch two or three services, or even more, at a time of their choosing.
What we missed was the Bread of Life, the fellowship with Jesus and with the body of Christ that transforms us into a community of caring people, bearing each other’s burdens, reaching out in love to cherish each other.
It is clear that the post- quarantine church is something greater than what we experienced before if we’re bold enough to reach out for it. We are a mystical body that includes not only those of us present here together, but also others throughout the country and the world sharing these moments of life and love. We break the bread of Jesus together not only because we like bread, but also because we’re sharing with each other.
It’s easy to panic with each new wave of information. Worse yet, some spread false information, like the people of God who imagined that life as slaves was so much better than the risks of being free disciples of Jesus Christ. Let us bear each other’s burdens, share each other’s woes. Take hold of the Bread of Life. Take hold of the life that is real life. Hear the words of Jesus: “I am the Bread of Life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.
NOTE: I am the Bread of Life. You came for the sliced bread.
In Deuteronomy 26:1-11, Moses addresses the people while they’re still have-nots, and impresses upon them that this vital harvest ritual of thanksgiving must include the memory of tougher times.
Paul invites us in this passage from Philippians to celebrate what is best in us. We already know what is the worst in us. People are already to tell each other what they don’t. Our culture has turned us into demonizers, unable to be civil in the face of disagreement. But as I read this listing of the things we ought to be calling out and recognizing in each other, I see faces – the faces of loved ones, friends, and total strangers who are still with us, and others who have gone beyond to their reward. And I smile.
Finally, getting stuffed on more food than we should eat is part of feasting, and Jesus provided an unexpected feast with twelve baskets of leftovers when the meal was over for a guestlist of thousands. This feeding of the multitudes, like our own Thanksgiving dinners, should point us like a signpost to Jesus. When we follow, to the cross, and beyond,to the resurrection, we are truly filled with the Bread of Life.
Deuteronomy 26:1-11, Psalm 100
Moses addressed the people after forty years in the desert, forty years dependent on God’s gift of manna in the desert, the prelude to a time when by the sweat of their brow the people could find joy in hard work and good food, or renewing the covenant of the land in the land. This history lesson is also the first liturgy in scripture. Moses was concerned that the people after a few years would begin to think that their blessings were somehow their own doing. They had not always been settled in the promised land. They were to declare to the priest receiving the offering, “Today I declare to the Lord your God that I have come into the land that the Lord swore to our ancestors to give us.” (26:3). Moreover, after the priest had laid the basket with their offering (see the Emphasis I wrote for this reading this week) on the altar, each farmer was to say, “A wandering Aramean was my ancestor; he went down in Egypt and lived there as an alien, few in numbers…., and there be became a great nation, mighty and populous.” (26:5) He would recite the story of their liberation from slavery, and the arrival in this precious land. Not only that, this celebration of thanksgiving was to be shared “with the Levites, the aliens, the orphans, and the widows, so that they may eat their fill within your towns.” (26:13) This reminds me of the attitude of some in our country who, having lived in the United States for a few generations or maybe even a couple hundred years, forget that we are a nation of immigrants. We forget the disadvantaged, the marginalized, and we demonize the new wave of immigrants.
Let’s focus on those words “a wandering Aramean….” In other portions of scripture, Arameans are portrayed as the enemy. Some identify Abraham, some identify Jacob, as this wandering Aramean. Although many translations identify the Aramean as Abraham because of his wandering years, Jacob also wandered twenty years on the run from his brother. Not only that, Jacob and his eleven sons were facing starvation before they were saved by their long lost brother Joseph, who secured their invitation from Pharoah into Egypt. This is part of the story that is told. Robert Alter suggests that the meaning of the Hebrew verb ‘oved is closer to “lost” than “wandering,” and suggests the context implies being lost by being close to death by starvation. There are not many left of that generation that grew up during the Great Depression, but they never tired of telling us their stories of their adventures, their travels, their desperation during that time. The recessions we have endured have been difficult and bear remembering, but we cannot forget the Great Depression, and our desperation, any more than God’s people were to forget that they were Arameans, hated enemies, before God gave them their national identity.
Philippians 4:4-9
The Christians in the Philippi house churches are besieged from within and without. There are those who have come to the congregations and insisted that these largely Hellenized believers take upon themselves some of the requirements of the Torah. Bear in mind that the Apostle Paul, writing to these Philippians, himself receives great benefit from his upbringing and heritage, but his ministry has focused on insisting Macedonian, Greek, Roman, and Celtic Christians serve Jesus Christ through the lens of their backgrounds. These outside pressures are confusing the believers in Philippi.
In addition, some members are just not getting along. In Philippi 4:2-3, he pleads for Euodia and Syntyche “to be of the same mind in the Lord,” and for Sygygus, Clement, and other Christians work together to help these two women get along. Who knows what the disagreement was about, but disagreements between church members can tear a church apart quicker than theological or polity differences.
In spite of these pressures, Paul calls upon all the Philippians to “rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice.” (4:4) When he says, “The Lord is near he means that Jesus is literally near, close at hand, an unseen presence, always listening to what we say and seeing what we do. Act Like Jesus is with us because he is! In addition, however, the word near in Greek also means Jesus is coming again. He is on the way. He has almost arrived. Remember that, and act like you believe Jesus is among us, and returning in glory.
Calling upon everyone to put aside worry “but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.” (4:7) he lists things that are good about us. Have you ever around your Thanksgiving table asked folks what they’re thankful for? Some may make a little joke, some may evoke happy tears by naming good qualities, and some may struggle to say anything at all because of our differing personalities. So Paul is helping us, giving a checklist of things we ought to think about: “…whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” (4:8) Pausing during your message and inviting people to come together to share these things, perhaps projecting the list of this scripture verse so people can see it as they speak, may invite some who have not gotten along that well to say something positive about each other. Or maybe not. But Paul thought it was worth a try.
John 6:25-35
The people go looking for Jesus, not for the Bread of Life that transforms, but for more of that free bread.
In John’s gospel, the miracles are called signs because they point us to Jesus. They’re not simply wonders for their own sake. Take the Samaritan woman at the well, who listened to Jesus talk about living water, at first thinking he was offering a never empty bucket of water every day, but when she realized these were words of life, something greater, she was ready to change her life, and the life of everyone in her village, by being transformed.
But these people don’t want to be transformed. They want more bread. That’s evident in the dialogue that follows. The multitudes who ate their fill asked for another sign from Jesus, but Jesus told them this first sign should lead to belief. In this passage there are dueling interpretations of the scripture. The people misinterpreted the story of Moses, the wilderness, and the manna, demanding more, instead of recognizing the manna was a stopgap until the people arrived in the promised land. Jesus insisted the story wasn’t about Moses, it was about God’s saving care for the people, which is what “Jesus” means – saving, delivering, rescuing.
The people wanted Jesus to be the kind of king like Roman emperors, and conquering generals who had an eye on becoming emperors, provided bread and circuses for the masses. In John’s Gospel, the miracles are called signs because they point us to Jesus. They’re not simply wonders for their own sake.
In this passage, the people aren’t able to look beyond the sign of the bread to discover what Jesus meant when he said, “I am the Bread of Life.” But they’re not able to hear this. The dialogue is going to deteriorate even further in lectionary sections, because the people, unlike the Samaritan….this sentence seems to have ended abruptly?
For some people today, Jesus is nothing but their ticket to heaven. They want eternal bread and circuses and aren’t interested in the least in being transformed into the people of God right now. Jesus wants us to see in every shared meal, in every loaf of bread, in every time of fellowship, there is the possibility of transformation. Last week Jim Davis reminded us that what we have been missing in this pandemic are not just worship, prayer, music, and sermons. We’re getting that in abundance. Folks who sheltered in place during the early stages of the pandemic often chose to watch two or three services, or even more, at a time of their choosing.
What we missed was the Bread of Life, the fellowship with Jesus and with the body of Christ that transforms us into a community of caring people, bearing each other’s burdens, reaching out in love to cherish each other.
It is clear that the post- quarantine church is something greater than what we experienced before if we’re bold enough to reach out for it. We are a mystical body that includes not only those of us present here together, but also others throughout the country and the world sharing these moments of life and love. We break the bread of Jesus together not only because we like bread, but also because we’re sharing with each other.
It’s easy to panic with each new wave of information. Worse yet, some spread false information, like the people of God who imagined that life as slaves was so much better than the risks of being free disciples of Jesus Christ. Let us bear each other’s burdens, share each other’s woes. Take hold of the Bread of Life. Take hold of the life that is real life. Hear the words of Jesus: “I am the Bread of Life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.
NOTE: I am the Bread of Life. You came for the sliced bread.
