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“Bread
or bread?"
By
Dr.
Mickey Anders
South Elkhorn
Christian Church
Lexington, Kentucky
August
2,
2009
Text:
John 6:24-35
About this
time of year, I always have church members teasing me about
“having to go to
sailing camp.” And I always reply
that
it is tough service, but somebody has to do it.
Sure, I love the sailing, and we do teach kids how to sail. But the camp really is so much more than
that.
We spend our
time talking about the wind, the spirit, and the breath of God. Jim McLean always begins Sailing Camp with
these words, “You are not at sailing camp.
You are at a Church Camp that uses sailing as a metaphor for the
Christian life.” In morning watch,
Carol
Pike leads discussions on the wind imagery in popular songs. Jerry Johns gives his Vespers presentations
on the spiritual meanings of the four winds – north, south, east,
and
west. And on Friday, I always give my
sermon from Acts 27, explaining the spiritual metaphors in heavy
weather
tactics, how to cope with the storms of life.
Sailing Camp
is lived on two levels, as is much of life.
On the surface, it’s sailing camp. But at a deeper level,
it is very
much church camp, where our relationship with God is the heart of the
matter.
In our
lives, there is the surface level of things, and then there is the
deeper
meaning. The surface level will only go
so far. It’s the deeper meanings
that
really matter, but not everybody understands that level.
In
an old 60
Minutes interview, Paul Simon of Simon and Garfunkel fame was
interviewed by
Mike Wallace. In the course of the
interview, Paul Simon made reference to their famous song with the
words, "Where
have you gone, Joe DiMaggio? A nation
turns its lonely eyes to you. What's
that you say, Mrs. Robinson? Joltin' Joe
has left and gone away."
In
the interview, he told Mike Wallace that
some time after the song was released, he received a letter from Joe
DiMaggio
in which DiMaggio expressed his befuddlement at what in the world that
song
could mean. DiMaggio wrote, "What do you mean 'Where have I gone?' I
haven't gone anywhere! I'm still around.
I'm selling Mr. Coffee." Then Paul Simon smiled wryly at Mike
Wallace and remarked, "Obviously Mr. DiMaggio is not accustomed to
thinking of himself as a metaphor!"
Margaret
Lovelace was a brilliant high school English teacher in the first
church I
served as pastor. She encouraged me in
my beginning, stumbling efforts at learning to preach.
She loved to say to me, “You must understand
poetry in order to understand the Bible.”
She said that to emphasize that the meanings of the Bible often
lie
somewhere beneath the words. The poet
plays with words and combines them in unusual ways so that the rhyme
and the
rhythm present multiple layers of meaning.
This is
never more true than when we read from the Gospel of John.
The first thing we note is that this writing
is very, very different from Matthew, Mark and Luke.
We must remember that John is writing many
years later than the other gospel writers. He is not writing a daily
diary. He doesn’t tell us
“what I did with Jesus
today." Nor is he trying to present
a historical biography entitled, "Jesus: The Man, His Times, His
Achievements."
Instead, John
is a theological poet, interweaving multiple layers of meaning in every
story. This explains why John is so hard
to read and difficult to understand at times.
John loves
to play with words and mingle metaphors with deeper meanings. That’s why it seems in John that Jesus
is
incapable of giving a straight answer.
In fact, it seems that Jesus never really responds to the
question he is
asked. Like any good teacher, Jesus had
a way of giving better answers than the questions called for.
We get that
sense in this chapter. When Jesus speaks
and acts, the people hear him at one level while he seeks to move them
to a
deeper level. When Jesus feeds the 5,000, Jesus wants the hungry fed,
but he is
deeply aware of a deeper hunger and a better bread.
I want to go
through the conversation step-by-step and show how the crowd and Jesus
put
entirely different meanings on the same words.
In our
story, the crowd pursues Jesus and finds him on the other side of the
sea in Capernaum.
John has
placed the story of Jesus walking on the water just after the feeding
of the
5,000. But the crowd does not know that he
has crossed the lake without a boat, and they ask, "Rabbi,
when did you get here?" What they are
really asking is, “How did you
get here?” But Jesus doesn’t
answer that
question either.
Jesus
replies, “Very truly, I tell you, you
are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your
fill of
the loaves.” As always in John, Jesus ignores the question
and gives the
answer to an entirely different question.
He answers the question, “Why are the crowds following
you?”
Then he
immediately moves into the metaphorical meanings of the loaves, “Do not work for the food that perishes,
but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man
will give
you. For it is on him that God the Father has set his seal.” Jesus tells of a metaphorical food that
brings eternal life. He is trying to get
them to think of the deeper things, of food for the heart, and of the
spiritual
aspects of life.
But the
crowd responds as if they never heard a word Jesus said.
They make no connection to the food that
perishes, the food that endures or the Son of Man.
Out of the blue, they ask another question, “What
must we do to perform the works of
God?”
Perhaps they
were already thinking that Jesus was like Moses, when the people of Israel
received
manna in the wilderness. Maybe they are
thinking, “Moses gave us the Ten Commandments.
If this is the new Moses, what will be the new law that he
requires.” Perhaps they were
remembering the verse from
Micah 6:8, “What does the Lord require of you, but to do justice,
love mercy
and walk humbly with your God?” What
works will Jesus expect?” “What
must we
do to perform the works of God?”
In the other
gospels we would expect an answer in keeping with the question. In Luke, Jesus tells the rich young ruler to
sell all the he has and give to the poor.
In Mark, Jesus tells the disciples to do unto others as they
would have
them do unto them. In Matthew, Jesus
tells the story of the separation of the sheep and the goats, and
concludes,
“Inasmuch as you have done it unto the least of these, you have
done it unto
me.”
But in John,
Jesus responds by focusing the whole debate on his person, “This
is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent.” John has already told us of the importance of
belief in the conversation with Nichodemus, when Jesus says, “For
God so loved
the world that he gave his only begotten son that whosoever believeth
in him
should not perish but have everlasting life.”
Here, once again, John says the main work of life is to believe
in Jesus,
the one God has sent.
The crowd
seems not to hear Jesus at all. They are
still thinking on a different level from Jesus.
Instead of “believe in him” they hear “believe
him.” If Jesus is to be the new
Moses, they think,
then he should perform some signs like Moses did. Isn’t
it ironic that Jesus has just performed
a spectacular sign in the feeding of the 5,000, but they still cannot
connect
the dots. They ask, “What
sign are you going to give us then, so that we may see it and
believe you? What work are you performing? Our ancestors ate the manna
in the
wilderness; as it is written, ‘He gave them bread from heaven to
eat.’”
Jesus
quickly corrects them, “Very truly, I
tell you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but it
is my
Father who gives…” Jesus
makes an
important switch in the verb tense here.
Proper grammar would require Jesus to say, “It was not
Moses who gave, but it was my Father who gave.”
Instead Jesus says, “It was not Moses who gave,
but it is my Father who gives.”
Jesus
recognizes that the crowd has jumped track again. Instead
of hearing him, they have moved back
to a historical discussion about Moses and the manna, a safe rabbinical
discussion of the past. They understand
about Moses, they understand about the manna, but they have no clue as
to the
metaphorical meanings of Jesus’ statements.
Jesus jerks
them back to the present by mixing the verb tenses.
He moves them from “gave” to “give,” by
saying, “but it is my Father who gives
you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is that which
comes down
from heaven and gives life to the world.”
John is
always moving one from fact to faith, from the temporary to the
eternal, from
doubt to belief, for whoever believes in Jesus Christ may have eternal
life. John finds the purpose of life
wrapped up in
allegiance to the Christ.
Jesus is not
talking about historical and factual manna, but he is talking about the
metaphorical “true bread from heaven… that gives life to
the world.” He is talking about
himself, but the crowd
still doesn’t get it.
They said to
him, “Sir, give us this bread always.” The discussion has been far too abstract for
them. They hear the word bread, and they
remember that Jesus gave them a free meal.
It was like the manna that came from Heaven and fed the people
in the
wilderness. Free food sounds good to
them. They want Jesus to give that free
food always. They can only think of
bread for their stomachs, not bread for their souls.
Jesus once
again ignores what they say. His next
sentence has nothing to do with the comment from the crowd. It is as if he gives up on them and lays out
his metaphor as clearly as he can, “I am
the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and
whoever
believes in me will never be thirsty.”
Finally, John makes it clear the metaphor uniquely applies to
Jesus.
Jesus had a
similar problem when he met the woman of Samaria
at Jacob’s well in John 4. Jesus spoke to her about the spiritual
water that he
came to give: “Everyone who drinks of (the water from this well)
will be
thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them
will
never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a
spring of
water gushing up to eternal life.” But
the woman understood it in terms of ordinary water and replied,
“Sir, give me
this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here
to draw
water.”
In that
case, it was the metaphor of the water.
In this case, it is the metaphor of the bread.
But they both are saying to us the same
thing. We tend to think only of the
satisfaction of our physical needs, but the hunger that really matters
is not
the hunger of the body, but the hunger of the heart.
We miss the real meaning. Jesus is
the bread of life and the water that
gushes to eternal life.
Jesus gave the crowd bread for their bellies, but even more
he gave them himself. Like bread that
must be broken and torn apart so that it can sustain life, so would
Jesus be
broken on the cross so that those who believe in him would have eternal
life.
Only Jesus can fill the emptiness within us. Only
Jesus can satisfy the hunger in our
hearts. As the bread of life, he is the
one who can feed us “Till we want no more.”
Only Jesus, the crucified and risen Christ, can offer us grace
enough,
love enough, life with God enough, to fill that deeper hunger in our
hearts.
If we can move from the belly to the metaphor, from the
bread to the Bread, then all that can all be ours.
We must simply live trusting and believing in
Jesus.