1 Kings 19:4-8
[Elijah] went a day’s journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a solitary broom tree. He asked that he might die: “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors.” Then he lay down under the broom tree and fell asleep. Suddenly an angel touched him and said to him, “Get up and eat.” He looked, and there at his head was a cake baked on hot stones, and a jar of water. He ate and drank, and lay down again. The angel of the Lord came a second time, touched him, and said, “Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you.” He got up, and ate and drank; then he went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb the mount of God.
John 6:35, 41-51
Jesus said to [the crowd,] “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty. Then the Jews began to complain about him because he said, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” 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’?” Jesus answered them, “Do not complain among yourselves. 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. 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. Not that anyone has seen the Father except the one who is from God; he has seen the Father. Very truly, I tell you, whoever believes has eternal life. I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. 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.”
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Yes, we’re still talking about bread today.
Spoiler alert: we’ll still be talking about bread next week. And for a couple weeks after that, too.
Jesus has a lot to say about bread.
It all started, if you remember, when Jesus borrowed a boy’s lunch and turned it into an overflowing feast for thousands of people. This attracted a little bit of attention, and despite Jesus’ best attempts to go off by himself, the crowds follow Jesus, shocked and amazed by what they have just seen.
They follow Jesus to the other side of the sea, where Jesus starts teaching them about the sign they have witnessed. Misunderstandings abound.
The crowds focus on the miracle of bread and the one who gives them bread. Jesus keeps saying that he is the bread.
It’s like one big, confusing riddle: When is bread more than bread? When it’s Jesus.
…yeah, the punchline goes over my head, too.
Last week, I resurrected a sourdough starter that had been languishing int he back of my refrigerator for a few months. I fed the jar of goop each day or two with equal parts flour and water, marveling at how bubbles would form in the expanding mixture within a few hours of each feed. It’s just a chemical reaction, I know, but it felt like a miracle.
And every time I bake bread, it feels like a miracle, too. That a fermented mixture of flour and water, mixed with fresh flour and water and a little salt can begin as a small lump of dough that bubbles up into a a smooth, airy, fragrant batch of risen dough that, in turn, becomes a miracle of bread to feed a hungry belly.
I guess that what I’m saying is that I understand how the crowds can get stuck on the bread, because what is daily bread but a miracle in and of itself?
Bread and water were miracles for Elijah in his self-imposed wilderness exile. Bread and water provided by God, delivered by an angel.
Elijah has run to the wilderness because he fears for his life and he feels like a failure and he has lost sight of God’s call. He prays, saying, “It is enough; O Lord take away my life.”
And in response, God does the exact opposite. God sends nourishment to Elijah, not taking his life, but tending to his needs. God nourishes Elijah so that he might have strength for the journey ahead, a journey that will involve a direct encounter with God, an assurance that his work is not in vain, and a promise that he is not alone.
I don’t think that Jesus is trying to make light of the miracle of daily bread. I don’t think he’s trying to dismiss the miracle of manna, the miracle of bread and water for Elijah, any of the feeding miracles that are a part of Israel’s rich heritage. All of these miracles point to God as provider. All of these miracles reflect a God who cares for God’s creation, who cares about basic needs.
Bread is a miracle. It sustains life. I don’t think Jesus has any intention of minimizing or dismissing this.
But Jesus challenges us to see God’s provision for us in this life not as an end unto itself, but as a sign of God’s concern also for things eternal. Things spiritual. Things transformative.
Jesus offers the nourishment of living bread that sustains us for eternal life. Living bread that brings us abundant life. Jesus offers us not just full bellies, but full hearts and souls, full knowledge of and confidence in God’s love and our belovedness, fullness of joy and spirit and full communion with God.
And, dear ones, what Jesus offers is so vast, so lovely, so unimaginable…that we, like the crowds, sometimes struggle to make sense of it. We struggle to accept it. We sometimes, at best, are reluctant believers in the grace and mercy of God shown in Jesus, the bread of life.
Because we all have things that, like the crowds, cause us to furrow our brows and scratch our heads.
Maybe you get tripped up by the pieces of the Jesus story that make no sense in the rational world: the virgin birth, or miracles like the loaves and fishes, or even the bodily resurrection of Jesus.
Maybe you can’t quite wrap your head around the idea of God-as-Trinity, or you struggle to accept that salvation can come from something as gruesome as the cross, or you have unanswered questions about heaven or new creation or whatever the heck Revelation is all about.
Or maybe it’s bigger than that.
Maybe you can’t always make sense of the idea that there’s a God in the first place, or maybe you struggle with how to believe in a good God when there is so much violence and evil in the world, or maybe you struggle to believe that God could and would actually love you and forgive you and show you mercy.
We all have our hang-ups. We all have reasons not to believe. Jesus knows this. And he will keep feeding you and inviting you to follow him nevertheless.
Jesus will talk about bread until you can’t bear it any longer. Jesus will wash your feet even if you will go on to betray him or deny him. Jesus will not leave you spiritually orphaned or comfortless or without an advocate, even if you need to run away from your Father’s house for a time.
Jesus will invite you to become a disciple by saying to you not “believe or else,” but by saying, “come and see.”
Sometimes we need to see a lot before we follow.
Sometimes we need to see even more before we believe or understand or make peace with what we will never understand.
The good news is that Jesus wants to be seen.
Jesus can be seen in acts of service and compassion. Jesus is seen whenever we are feeding the hungry and clothing the naked and visiting the imprisoned and tearing down the systems of oppression that keep people hungry and naked and held captive. Jesus is seen in acts of selflessness and humility. Jesus is seen whenever the broken are lifted up.
Jesus has been seen in this place.
Jesus is seen in the children singing their hearts out at VBS and in the high schoolers serving as small group leaders on Sunday mornings and in the middle school girls who, for some reason, were willing to wake up extra early to hang out with Adrian (of all people!) for before-school Bible study at Magpie.
Jesus is seen in the gifts of worship and music that are offered here, those who sing and those who read and those who make sure that the paraments are the right colors for the season; those who have committed tirelessly during pandemic to making sure that people can worship at home, and that our weekly stream isn’t just functional, but beautiful.
Jesus is seen in loaves of bread baked and compassionate calls and visits offered to members in need and members in crisis and members who are lonely. Jesus is seen in all the ways that this congregation takes care of one another.
Jesus is seen in the food pantry and the free clinic, in Advent fair trade markets, in our support of Young Adults in Global Mission, in Project Care and partnerships with LSI, in members who march in Pride parades and members who tie quilts and every gift of service offered through this congregation in the name of showing God’s work through the work of our hands.
And as if that weren’t enough…
(Or if you were looking for something more tangible…)
Jesus is seen whenever we come together to eat the bread of life and drink the cup of salvation around his holy and open table. Jesus makes it clear that his body is given for you and for all people. It’s not just a meal for people who have it all figured out. Actually, it’s mostly a meal for all of us who don’t have it all figured out. It’s a meal where we hear, every time, the promise that this gift is given “for you.” And Jesus will keep saying it to you, each and every week, and Jesus will trust that some days, you might actually find the strength to believe it.
“Eat and drink,” Jesus say, “this is my body.”
“Eat and drink,” the angel says to Elijah, “so that the journey will not be too much for you.”
Eat and drink, the real food and the spiritual food, the bread of life and the living water.
Eat and drink, and find the strength to believe.
Eat and drink, and find the strength to see a future filled with abundant life.
Eat and drink, and find the strength to hope and not to fear.
Eat and drink, and grow closer and closer to believing that you are beloved.
Eat and drink, and know that God is with you.
Are you anxious today, about this new season of transition? Eat and drink.
Are you tired today, of each next surging wave of this persistent pandemic? Eat and drink.
Are you feeling acutely aware of these years of wilderness wanderings since the start of our building crisis? Eat and drink.
Are you weary of change and longing for a season of quiet stability? Eat and drink.
Are you, like me, feeling today the weight of memories and shared experiences; are you feeling lots of emotions all at once? Eat and drink.
Eat and drink, so that the journey will not be too much, whatever that journey will be.
For me, the next journey means following Jesus to a new expression of my call to ministry.
For you, the next journey means exploring again the mission and ministry of First Lutheran Church. It means opening new doors to the community, now and for generations to come. It means imagining new ways of sharing Christ’s love here and beyond. Calling pastors. Building a new building. Continuing to worship and witness, to grow in faith and serve in love.
And so, fed and nourished for our journeys, we follow Elijah out of the wilderness and we follow Jesus through this world, our bodies and souls nourished by the food that endures for eternal life, ready to give ourselves as bread for the world and hope for the hopeless.
May your paths be blessed, my friends, and may your steps be sure. May you taste the bread of life and may you see the heart of Jesus and may you continue to believe. May you shine like stars in the heavens, and may God bless and protect you, along this new journey and all journeys yet to come.