You've been alone long enough - Christmas Day at Redeemer Episcopal Church

 John 1:1-14

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.

He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.

And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth.

You can read my sermon below or listen to it at this link.

Let us pray. God of light and life, be with us on this Christmas morning as we remember the ridiculousness of your love and our part in this story. Amen. 

The story of Christmas doesn’t make any sense. I think we have become quite immune to the ridiculousness of this story because we hear it every year. We know this story by heart. It is at the core of who we are as Christians. In fact, we probably know it better and can picture it in our minds more completely than even Holy Week and Easter morning. After all, the birth of Jesus is the beginning of time as we understand it. And the more familiar we are with a story, the more normal it becomes to us. 

But this story is anything but normal. The way that John tells it in his gospel account is much more like poetry than the narrative we hear in Luke about shepherds and Mary and Joseph… in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God… And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth.

This story is ridiculous. That God— almighty and all-powerful God would give up God’s mortality to become human. And not JUST human, but a human baby, into a family of a virgin young woman and her fiancé. It doesn’t make any logical sense. And yet… here we are, 2021 years later, telling this story again. And here we are… hearing this story again, in a new year, with fresh ears. But the same story. 

It makes little sense that after all that had happened in the history of creation and God’s people that God would still choose to become a human and live among us. I mean, God had sent prophets and kings and all sorts of incredible people to  To us, the incarnation seems illogical and impractical. Who are we to deserve our God come walk among us, wash our feet, and dine with us? 

The story is almost as unbelievable as some of the others we tell around Christmas time. 

If you know anything about our family, you will know that we watch a lot of children’s movies. This season, we have watched the new animated movie Dr. Seuss’s The Grinch over and over again. It’s worth it— it’s hilarious— so I highly recommend it. 

I would imagine that most of us know the story of The Grinch— it, too, is a story that has been told over and over again. The story of a fuzzy green grump who lives up on top of a mountain all by himself. He hates Christmas and steals the gifts and trees and everything on Christmas Eve from the Whos down in Whoville. But instead of ruining Christmas, the Grinch learns that the Whos don’t need presents and trees to celebrate what Christmas is really about. 

At the end of the movie, a little girl named Cindy Lou goes up the Grinch’s mountain and invites him to Christmas dinner. He is surprised. After everything he has done, why would he be invited? 

“What? Me?” He asks. “But I took your gifts.” 

“Yeah I know” Cindy Lou replies. 

“And your trees,” the Grinch protests. 

“Yup” 

“I stole your whole Christmas,” he says, as if she would have forgotten what he had done to her whole town. 

“I know you did. But we’re inviting you anyway.” 

“But why?” He asks. 

“Because. You’ve been alone long enough. Dinner's at six” 

Beloved friends, we have been alone long enough. This is what God says to us on this Christmas morning. That God invites us in not because of us but in spite of us. In spite of all of the messiness of the world. In spite of all of the things we have stolen and ruined and been grumpy about, God comes to us. God comes to us as an innocent child. As the very light of the world. As the Word of God broken in to this place. Why? Why would God come all the way here to earth to be among us? Why would the creator of all life and earth want to become one of us? Because we’ve been alone long enough. And God wants to invite us to dinner. Amen. 

This is but the beginning - Redeemer Episcopal Church

 Mark 13:1-8

The Destruction of the Temple Foretold

13 As he came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, “Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!” 2 Then Jesus asked him, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”

3 When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John, and Andrew asked him privately, 4 “Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?” 5 Then Jesus began to say to them, “Beware that no one leads you astray. 6 Many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and they will lead many astray. 7 When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. 8 For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.

Gracious God, be with us in the labor of these days so that we might be reminded of your holy and saving work through the birth, life, death, and resurrection of your holy son, Christ Jesus. Amen. 

Every generation has rumors or the apocalypse or the end times. I remember a while back, there was global fear about what would happen at midnight on December 31 of 1999. And sometime in 2012 there was a lot of talk about the Mayan calendar ending. I’m sure a simple Google search would pull up thousands more dates when the world was supposed to end. Perhaps they were miscalculated, but we are still here, so it seems that the end of the world hasn’t come quite yet. 

But as a society we are fixated on knowing when the “end” might come and what it might look like. There are numerous book series and whole franchises of movies about the end of the world or the breakdown of society. Will it be caused by multiple climate disasters or global war? 

Of course, those are only the secular views of the end times. If we get into all of the religious theories and doctrine and theology, we could go on for ages about what then end will look like for the world. Even Jesus joined the discourse in the text we read this morning. This story is called the “little apocalyptic text,” a brief mention of the destruction of the temple… 

When the disciples looked at the temple, they saw an incredible structure— they saw a building unmatched anywhere else in the empire. It was an engineering marvel, rumored to have blocks of stone 40 feet long to make up the walls. And some said that the walls were covered in so much gold that people feared looking directly at it in the noonday sun because they might go blind. 

But it was not only an incredible structure. For the disciples, it was a symbol— THE symbol— of God’s presence and faithfulness in the world. Its glory proved God’s glory, its presence represented God’s presence. It was where God resided and where the most holy of ceremonies and rituals took place. 

So the shock of Jesus’ words cannot be understated. “Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.” 

What would this mean for Jerusalem? For the Jewish people? What would it mean for God’s presence in the world and God’s faithfulness to God’s people? Surely Jesus wasn’t predicting the end of the world. 

In reality, apocalyptic literature and episodes in the Bible like this one, are less about the end of the world and more about an unveiling, an uncovering of truth. 

For the disciples, the truth was that God would be unconfined in the world. That they would not have one central place to go and find God. That God, indeed, could not be contained in the temple, as beautiful and large as it was, would have been a difficult truth to grasp in their world. 

Today, uncovering the truth of God’s ever-expansive and bountiful grace is difficult for us to grasp as well. It’s easier if God fits inside of our boxes and small ideas. 

On a larger scale in the world, oftentimes, uncovering truth is painful. It shows us the inequities of our society. It shows us how we have exploited and destroyed our planet. It shows us how we have contributed to diseases and death. 

Uncovering truth is often something that comes with deep groans of pain, stretching, and difficulty. Jesus says, this uncovering is like the beginning of birth pangs. Jesus tells the disciples that the destruction of the temple is only the beginning of what will happen…

“When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines.”

“Do not be alarmed,” Jesus says. Even as he tells the disciples of all of these disasters and terrible things that will happen. As he tells them that the temple will be destroyed. That life as they know it will change forever. “Do not be alarmed.” 

Perhaps what Jesus describes is happening not only in the world around us, but within the Christian community. Perhaps there is an uncovering that is happening within the church, and it is something we should pay attention to. What could the Holy Spirit be revealing in this time of pain and labor within the church? What could God be teaching us through the warnings of the world that the church is dying? Perhaps we are being reminded once again that God’s glory and power and majesty cannot be contained, but spreads out into the world abundantly. What might God be tellings us beyond these walls? In what ways is the Spirit leading us to dream bigger and more expansive in these time? Despite the warnings of the church dying, could God be calling this community to something new, something generous, and something risky? Jesus says “do not be alarmed.” Notice, pay attention. But do not be alarmed. 

At the very end of this reading, Jesus says this is only the beginning of the birth pangs. That, I think, is the good news of this morning. That the famine, the wars, the painful unveiling of inequality and strife, the research that claims that the church is dying… it is only the beginning of the birth pangs. And like birth pangs, they will grow in intensity until they feel unbearable. And THEN— right when we think we can’t handle any more pain, when our whole being is saying we can’t go any further— is when we will be greeted with the cry of new birth. That is always the case with God— that what the world believes is the end is actually the beginning of God’s work in the world. 

Jesus’ promise is that this pain is not the end. Because of God’s promise of resurrection for us and all of creation, death is never the end. God’s promise for us and for all of creation is the promise of a savior who, indeed, was born into a world of pain and continues his saving work even to this day. The world may say that this is the end. This, dear ones, is but the beginning. Amen. 

God of Love - Redeemer Episcopal Church

 Mark 12:28-34

The First Commandment

28 One of the scribes came near and heard them disputing with one another, and seeing that he answered them well, he asked him, “Which commandment is the first of all?” 29 Jesus answered, “The first is, ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; 30 you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ 31 The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.” 32 Then the scribe said to him, “You are right, Teacher; you have truly said that ‘he is one, and besides him there is no other’; 33 and ‘to love him with all the heart, and with all the understanding, and with all the strength,’ and ‘to love one’s neighbor as oneself,’—this is much more important than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices.” 34 When Jesus saw that he answered wisely, he said to him, “You are not far from the kingdom of God.” After that no one dared to ask him any question.

God of love, open our hearts to love you and love our neighbors as ourselves. Amen. 

I have been to quite a few churches in my short life thus far. I have never seen any church with a sign like ours. Not the sign that faces Southside Boulevard— that is the sign that speaks to the rest of the world. I’m talking about the sign made for us. It’s actually one of the first things I noticed when I drove out of the Redeemer parking lot for the first time. And I read it every single time I leave this place— “this concludes our worship. Our service now begins.” It is also the last thing folks will see at the end of the live stream today. “This concludes our worship. Our service now begins.” These two short sentences tell us a lot about who we are and what is important to this community.

I think it strikes me so profoundly because it also reminds me of a song we used to sing in campus ministry when I was in college. The song is called “Madly” and part of the verse goes “let what we do in here, fill the streets out there.” That song, like that sign, aren’t words for the people outside of our church, they are not for the world to see and hear, but they are reminders to US, to THIS community. That what happens in this building is only important insofar as it changes what we do outside of this building.  

In the story we hear this morning, a scribe comes near and hears that people are asking Jesus all sorts of questions and when he realizes that Jesus knows what he’s talking about and that he answers the questions well, he asks “Which commandment is the first of all?” And Jesus answers with a common Jewish verse, “‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’” And then without being asked, Jesus goes right into the next commandment: “‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.’”

Jesus tells us about the first commandment— the most important commandment. And immediately follows with the second, which leads us to believe that it is just an extension of the first. 

And that is indeed true. These commandments cannot be separated from one another in Jewish culture. They are intricately connected, unable to be untwined from one another. To truly love God is to love our neighbor. That is how the Jewish people demonstrate their love and commitment to God— by their outward expressions of love for their neighbor. 

Of course, there would be questions about who actually counts as our neighbor. Are they the people in our community? The people who look like us? The people who believe the same things we believe? The people with the same sexuality or gender or disabilities or chronic illness as us? Are our neighbors just the folks who sit in our pews? Or those who live in the apartments down the street? What about the people who live around the world? 

When this question is asked, Jesus makes clear that our neighbor is everyone. That the definition of “neighbor” is ever-widening, ever-inclusive. No one is on the “outside” of the circle of those considered “neighbor.”

And then of course there is the question of what it really means to “love” someone. Is it enough to be nice? To smile and wave as they pass us on the sidewalk? What does it mean to truly love your neighbor as yourself? For Jesus, love is carried out on the cross. It is demonstrated in the sacrifice of his very body and blood for the sake of the whole world and all of creation. Love, for Jesus and his followers, is not about niceness or tolerance, but about the life-changing, world turning love that ushers in the Kingdom of God. 

These two commandments: to love God and to love our neighbors, are the most difficult and important things we will ever be called to do as the people of God. And they are what we come here to this place to learn how to do. In the scriptures and sermon and hymns, we learn what it means to love God and one another. In this meal, we come to understand what God means by love and we are changed and remade in the image of Christ, and empowered to love one another. 

As we leave this place, we read that sign and are reminded that we have an opportunity every minute of our lives to serve our neighbors and to love our neighbors. “This concludes our worship. Our service now begins.” 

And we won’t always get it right. More often than not, we are not going to love our neighbors as ourselves. We are going to participate in systems that exploit our neighbors and we are going to disregard the health and wholeness of the people around the world. We are going to mess up and stumble. 

But that’s why we come back here. That’s why we kneel before the cross and ask for forgiveness. It’s why we turn to our neighbors and offer Christ’s peace to one another. It’s why we come back to hear the commandments again and again, why we come back to hear the story of Jesus and how he loves us. It’s why we come to be nourished by his body and blood. Over and over again. Because we are God’s hands and feet in the world today. We are the ones who called to love as Jesus loved. Because love must never end. 

Dear ones, there is too much evil in this world. There is too much death and destruction and hate in this world. 

Therefore, love must never end. We must come here to rest and be renewed and reminded and then go back into the world to continue to love. And we live in the hope that in Christ Jesus, in his life, death, and resurrection, love never does end. Love is the last word. Love is the beginning and the ending of this cosmic story. And in that hope, in that knowledge, our service now begins. Amen. 

The Rich Man - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Mark 10:17-31

The Rich Man

As he was setting out on a journey, a man ran up and knelt before him, and asked him, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. You know the commandments: ‘You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not defraud; Honor your father and mother.’” He said to him, “Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth.” Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.

 

Then Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, “How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!”  And the disciples were perplexed at these words. But Jesus said to them again, “Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” They were greatly astounded and said to one another, “Then who can be saved?” Jesus looked at them and said, “For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.”

Peter began to say to him, “Look, we have left everything and followed you.” Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age—houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields, with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.”

God of unending grace and abundance, be with us this morning as we are reminded of your community, made whole through our Lord Christ Jesus. Amen.

If you flip through the channels of your tv or scroll through Netflix, you will see that minimalism and organization has become more and more popular over the last few years. There are entire documentaries about the “movement” of minimalism and tiny homes, re-organizing and downsizing. Each Marie Kondo-type trend has a process, steps that you can take to simplify your life and your space. I don’t think there is anything inherently bad about the movement to reduce the clutter of our lives, it seems to be another way of emphasizing the scarcity of this world, the self-preservation we crave in a world full of possessions and stuff.  

In the story we heard this morning, the man comes to Jesus and kneels before him— he seems to be sincere in his declaration that Jesus is a good teacher and truly wants to learn from him. “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” The man’s posture is correct, but his question is wrong. 

So Jesus reframes the question and helps the man understand that we are talking about the kingdom of God, which is not something we earn or possess, but something we participate in now and anticipate in the days to come. Jesus quotes the commandments that relate to how we interact with the people around us, the commandments that show us how to live in community with one another. 

The Kingdom of God, Jesus says is about belonging, not about what we do or a list of things to check off, but who we are as God’s children, it is about how we relate to one another. 

At the beginning of this reading we hear that Jesus was setting out on a journey. But he wasn’t on just any journey, Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem, on the way to the cross. Come and follow me, Jesus invites us. Following Jesus is not a checklist of qualities or accomplishments, but a way of life that leads to the cross. And it is a way of life that is open to all people, regardless of who they are or where they came from.  

I presented this gospel text this morning to my students on campus this past Tuesday. I find it to be a difficult text, sharper than a double-edged sword as Paul would say, so I wanted to see what they had to say about it. I was expecting them to clap their hands and pump their fists at what Jesus says about the rich, that it is impossible for them to enter the Kingdom of God. I expected them to affirm Jesus’ teaching and say that of course Jesus is excluding the rich from the Kingdom. 

What I didn’t expect was for my students to turn the text around and use it as an example of how expansive God’s love and community truly is… 

God’s kingdom is not a small exclusive club that we earn our way into, but an expansive and inclusive community with people from all sorts of backgrounds that previous generations didn’t think fit into God’s plan. 

My students said “the rich man didn’t understand Jesus— it wasn’t about being rich, it was about his relationship with other people, it was about his status and power— and the fact that he thought he could earn his way into the community. When in reality, he’s already a part of the Kingdom of God, he just has to follow.” 

Each time Jesus is approached by people asking these questions about who belongs or how they “get in” to this community, instead of limiting the qualifications, Jesus expands them. When people approach Jesus about bad behavior or characteristics that might exclude them from the community, Jesus flings the gates wider still. Women, children, the sick, the disabled, and the poor— they are all included in the Kingdom of God. Jesus’ words to the rich man weren’t a critique of his possessions, but an invitation to a new way of life, a life that all people are invited into. 

The word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword. 

Paul is not wrong. But the word of God is sharp because God continues to expand the Kingdom while our own inclination is to make it into an exclusive club. We WANT there to be limits on God’s Kingdom. If there is scarcity, then we can find ways of putting ourselves above others, of denying people this community. If there is a limit to God’s abundance, then we get to decide who is in and who is out according to the rules that we have set up in this world. If we can earn God’s love, then we can feel like we deserve it. 

I’ve told you the story of college students coming into our Tuesday night community and taking food without joining our conversation. I love that story because it demonstrates the hospitality that our students have for the people around them. This last week, a different thing happened— we were actually talking about this passage at Food for Thought and we had lots of extra food. I walked over to invite the students workers in the next room to come grab some food to go if they were hungry. Only one of the students came by and got a piece of pizza. My students said “where is everyone else? Don’t they want food?” 

She said “oh no, they didn’t want to come take your food. They thought they’d have to sit down and join your meeting if they ate the food.” They didn’t feel like they deserved to take part in our meal unless they did something to earn it. One of my students said “No! They don’t have to DO anything for the food! If they’re hungry, they should just come eat!” 

This is what Jesus invites us into this morning. Not eternal life that we can own or earn. We are invited into a new community in the Kingdom of God, simply because of who we are as God’s children. And the Kingdom is not a Marie-Kondo minimalist society, but one of abundance and more than enough for everyone. The Kingdom is not about specially curated furniture pieces, but a table where everyone is welcome and fed. 

Jesus reminds us that it is not about what we do, but it is about what God did, and is doing, and will do in this world. It is God who makes salvation possible. If it were up to us, we’d be in real trouble— as much trouble as a camel trying to get through the eye of a needle. But because we are God’s beloved children, because we have been invited to come and follow Jesus to the cross where he died for our sake and for the sake of the world… the kingdom gates have been swung wide and are ever-expanding. 

And it is right here, in this very community, in worship and at this table, that we are able to see a foretaste of what is to come, a preview of the life we we can live in the Kingdom of God. We don’t have to DO anything for the food. God has already laid it before us in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ Jesus. If we’re hungry, we should just come and eat. Thanks be to God for that. Amen. 

Who do you say that I am? - Redeemer Episcopal Church

 Mark 8:27-38

Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi; and on the way he asked his disciples, "Who do people say that I am?" And they answered him, "John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” He asked them, "But who do you say that I am?" Peter answered him, "You are the Messiah." And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him. 

Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, "Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things." ³⁴ He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. 

For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels."

God of teaching and truth, let us understand Jesus, not as the Messiah we want, but as the Messiah we need in this broken world. And let us and our work be defined by his own sacrifice. Amen. 

This is the first week in many weeks that Jesus is not performing miracles or talking about himself as the Bread of Life. Wow does it feel good to be on this side of that narrative. Finally, we have arrived at one the most important and well-known exchanges between Jesus and the disciples. 

They are on the road again— this time not trying to run away from the crowds or find a place to rest, but on their way to Jerusalem. This narrative of walking and talking serves as an interlude between Jesus’ public ministry and Jesus preparing the disciples for his impending death.   And it’s on the road, on the way, that Jesus asks the disciples “who do people say that I am?” 

As we have moved through Mark’s gospel in this season, we have seen Jesus feed thousands of people with very little food, heal a woman’s daughter without even touching her, and eventually open a man’s ears and release his tongue to that he might hear and speak. These last few weeks, we have seen Jesus perform more miracles and be followed by a larger and large crowd. 

So it is no surprise that people would have begun talking about him. The whispers have started that perhaps he is someone other than just the carpenter’s son. "John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.”

But Jesus wants the disciples’ perspective. They are the ones who have been alongside him all this time. They must have their own assumptions and theories about who he really is. So Peter steps up and makes his declaration of faith: "You are the Messiah.” 

Now if we understand faith, it is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen (Hebrews 11:1). Peter is speaking, not only of what he has witnessed while following Jesus from town to town, but he is speaking his hope for Jesus. He believes Jesus is the Messiah because he WANTS Jesus to be the Messiah. 

Silently confirming the truth of what Peter has said, Jesus instructs them not to tell anyone who he is. 

Then Jesus tells them that the time has come for the son of Man to undergo great suffering, be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, the scribes, and be killed.  

 

But for Peter, there is a drastic disconnect between his naming of Jesus as the Messiah, and Jesus’ actual reign as the Messiah.  Peter can not reconcile who he thinks and says Jesus is with the actions and impending future that Jesus has laid out before them.

 

For Peter and the Jewish tradition of his day, Messiah was an anointed king, a ruler in the line of David that would come to reign over Israel.  He would restore Israel from the Gentiles. He would reclaim their independence and glory as God’s chosen people. He would overcome adversaries and oppressors.  He would rule like no king before. For the Jewish people, this is what they longed for. This is how they interpreted the prophets. And for Peter, Jesus was the hoped-for Messiah.   Challenging authority, leading with confidence and power, teaching and healing in the name of God. So, of course, Peter imagined that Jesus would lead them into a great battle and restore all of Israel to the Jewish people.

 

But the problem is that that’s not what Jesus has told them would happen.

 

Peter confidently declares Christ as Messiah, yet his naming is selfish.  It’s rooted in his own understanding, his own hope and expectation. Jesus, you’re our Messiah, long awaited, and our expected Messiah is what you are and will be for us.

 

Peter certainly isn’t the first, nor the last person to define Jesus from his own perspective, hope, and expectation.  For as long as Christ has been proclaimed, the world has found a way to pigeonhole, define, limit, manipulate, or interpret the proclamation of the gospel to best suit their personal need, agenda, or hope.  For centuries, the name of Christ, the Messiah, the son of God, has been confidently, yet falsely proclaimed to attack, defend, or justify human ambition and action. Human things. And when Christ is interpreted and proclaimed out of personal pride, preference, or perspective, then we abuse both the power and humility of the gospel message.  

Peter’s hopes for a Messiah aren’t drastically different than our own.

 

But the word of warning in today’s Gospel is that Jesus, the Messiah, the son of God and son of man will break all of the disciples expectations and even our own. We don’t get to define Christ according to our own expectations, even in our best of intentions.

 

Rather we are defined by Christ.  We live, move, and have our very being by grace in Jesus, the son of man, the son of God, the Messiah.  And our Messiah is one who exceeds all expectations, leading with humility and grace. Jesus will restore, redeem, and set free, but he’ll do so in the most contrary way to the world’s expectations. Rather than lead with force, and power, conquering adversaries and punishing the oppressors. Jesus will willingly and knowingly undergo suffering. He’ll be rejected with humility and grace. He’ll give up his life for the sake of the world.  So all people might have life and life abundant.

This is our Messiah.  And if we ever hope to faithfully proclaim and worship Jesus as our true Messiah, then our call is to follow Jesus.  To lay down our life, and inward, selfish ambition, expectation, or hope, and follow. We must form our lives not for ourselves or our own greed and expectations, but for one another, for the whole world, and for all of creation. If we only proclaim Jesus as the true Messiah without understand exactly what being the Messiah means: a humble servant, who is willing to carry the cross and die upon it… then being his followers is all for nothing. Unless we form ourselves to his example and take up own own cross, then we can never truly to his disciples. 

…

 

Who do we say Jesus is?  Make no mistake my friends, this is a question that the world is asking even today, and the world is groaning for an answer that is faithful.  Who do you say that Jesus is? What is our response? Is it simply enough to say, “He is the Messiah”? Or will our expectations get in the way?  

 

Some say John the Baptist, some say Elijah, some prophet.

 

Who do you say Jesus is?

Some the Messiah, a king of kings, a mighty ruler. Some say the son of man and son of God.  Some say Lord, healer, and teacher.  Some say redeemer.

 

But perhaps the most powerful answer of all might be, “come, let me show you…” as we humble ourselves to love for our neighbors. 

Amen.

Mystery of the Meal - Redeemer Episcopal Church

 John 6:35, 41-51

35 Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.

41 Then the Jews began to complain about him because he said, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” 42 They were saying, “Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?” 43 Jesus answered them, “Do not complain among yourselves. 44 No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me; and I will raise that person up on the last day. 45 It is written in the prophets, ‘And they shall all be taught by God.’ Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me. 46 Not that anyone has seen the Father except the one who is from God; he has seen the Father. 47 Very truly, I tell you, whoever believes has eternal life. 48 I am the bread of life. 49 Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. 50 This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. 51 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.”

God of everlasting life, help us to embrace the mystery of the meal you have set before us, and the goodness of your son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

We are on our third Sunday of Jesus talking about bread. And we will be talking about it for another three weeks after this too. If you have heard me preach more than twice, you may have noticed that the meal that we share at this table is my favorite thing in the world. It’s my favorite thing to preach about, talk about at parties, lead faith formation classes on, and it is especially my favorite thing that we share together as a community. I love the Holy Eucharist. So a couple of Sundays talking about bread is right up my alley. 

On campus, I talk about the Eucharist a lot too— But mostly in the context of the meals that we eat together. Every single week, we get together for what we call Food for Thought, which is centered around a shared meal. My students think I’m just really enthusiastic about food because I DO feed them every chance I get. 

At the end of the last semester, I invited all of our students out to a restaurant to celebrate making it through the year. It was the only time we were able to meet in person together the entire year. All my students came and many of them brought friends that I had never met before. I ushered them all up to the line to order their food and told the cashier, “I’ll pay for all of it at the end.” My students who know me, knew this was a totally normal thing for me to do, but the new students were flabbergasted. Why would I pay for their meal? Well, that’s just how we do things here. 

My students really do just think I’m a food enthusiast. And I do like eating, obviously. And, of course, this is the reality of ministry with young adults— we are always hungry. And much of the time, students are wondering where they are going to get their next meal. But I think it also tells us something theologically, that our ministry is based around a shared meal— our bodies matter. Being fed is important. Sharing a meal together is holy. And hospitality is sacred.  

In these stories of Jesus talking to the crowds about bread, moves further and further away from the physical bread with which he fed the crowds and becomes more and more theological, and more and more scandalous in what he is telling them.  

But I think it’s important to remember that Jesus DID start with the people’s physical hunger. He didn’t ignore their bodies and tell them that they were encountering the bread of heaven. No, he attended to their physical hunger and fed them with an abundance— so much so that there was more than enough left over. He had to satisfy their physical hunger, so that they might be able to tune in to the hunger in their hearts. They began to understand that they were not hungry for bread and fish any longer, but for Jesus’ teaching, so he began teaching them about who he is and what his life would mean for them and for the entire world. 

This morning, Jesus’ teaching takes a turn when he makes some heavenly claims— “I am the bread of life that came from heaven.” And the crowd seems to have a real issue with this. 

“You’re Joseph and Mary’s son! You’re from this town— we know where you came from and it wasn’t heaven!” 

They felt like they knew Jesus, or at the very least, they knew his parents. And because they were so familiar with him and his story, it made it hard for them to believe that he was extraordinary. Of course he couldn’t have come from God— we know he grew up with normal parents in our normal town. 

Now when the crowd begins to grumble, Jesus has the ability to do what most of us would do in this situation. He could backtrack and make his claims a little less offensive. Claim that he misspoke and that he didn’t mean that he’s ACTUALLY from heaven. He could try to make his claims a little more palatable for the crowd so that they might be able to understand it better. 

But instead he makes his claims even more scandalous, even more offensive. He doubles down and says that not only is he the bread from heaven, but that people will eat of this bread, they will come to him, and they will have eternal life. 

Their physical hunger was satisfied, but their longing for Christ had only just begun.

Jesus’ words here bring to question what it means for the crowd to follow him. Jesus wants to make it clear that walking with him is no peaceful stroll. In fact, he says, it will cost him his life. 

But it is impossible for the crowd to even understand Jesus’ origins. So how will they understand his journey and his destination at the cross? It doesn’t make any sense that Jesus will have to die in order to provide life for the world. They only understand him as ordinary Jesus, the son of Mary and Joseph. They don’t know him as who he who truly was, and is, and is to come. 

“The bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” Those words simply don’t make sense to the crowd. I’m not sure they make much sense to us. Of course, we do have the advantage of knowing the rest of the story— and about two thousand years of people talking about the rest of the story. But perhaps that is the reason we keep telling this story, the reason it has endured for 2000 years, why we keep coming back to church each week to hear it again— because we don’t totally understand it but something in it captures us. 

I think, perhaps, this is why Holy Eucharist is so compelling to me. Because God takes something that is so familiar to us— bread and wine— and it is the body and blood of our Lord… and this simple meal is the beginning of eternal life for us. It is the foretaste of what is to come for us as we continue walking this path with Jesus. We come to this table every week with the expectation that God will be present here, and yet we are surprised and confused every time. What God does at this meal doesn’t make any sense at all. And yet… it is. 

Jesus’ claims that he is the bread from heaven… his claim that the bread he will give for the life of the world is his flesh… they don’t make sense. And yet the people will continue to follow him, continue to long for his teaching. They will follow him all the way until his death on a cross. And then they still won’t understand. But they will continue to chase after this mystery, as we do now. Only to be satisfying by what first kept them wanting more. The ordinary bread that is not just ordinary bread. The wine that is not just ordinary wine. The bread from heaven, here at this table, in this holy community. Amen.