Proper 16 (B) + In relation + 8.26.18

M. Campbell-Langdell

All Santos, Oxnard

(1 Kings 8:[1, 6, 10-11], 22-30, 41-43; Psalm 84; Ephesians 6:10-20; John 6:56-69)

Today we hear the last gospel based on the “Bread of Life” discourse in John. And we hear the result of peoples’ reactions to Jesus presenting himself as the son of God. Jesus’ words are simply hard to swallow. He is talking about others eating his flesh as if it were bread.

Now it is hard for us to remember that before anyone knew about the Eucharist, about receiving spiritual food in the form of physical bread and wine, this would sound super weird. Having some fellow just start talking about us eating his body might sound a lot like cannibalism. And for devout Jews, the “word” that is hardest to swallow is Jesus seeing himself as the Son of God. All things we accept now as Christians, but were very hard to handle without understanding the bigger picture.

I can understand why so many people were thrown off with Jesus’ words. Cannibalism is creepy. Surely I am not the only person who as a teen was super freaked out when I learned about the Donner party? In that context we kind of understand why people say “I’m out” when what Jesus says begins to get hard to grapple with.

Perhaps because we are in the back to school time of year, this passage brought to mind the beginning of the school semester with a particularly strict teacher. I recall my writing teacher my very first semester of college who made it clear that the average English score at Vassar was a C. This to a bunch of kids who rarely got below a straight A or A- in high school. This was one of the times when the teacher would put out some of the strictest guidelines and hardest teachings in order to make sure the class knew he or she meant business. Usually at the end of the semester, that was my favorite professor, in part because I had put the most of myself into my work.

In a way, this is Jesus in this passage. Not giving the people what they want to hear, but what they need to hear in order to truly understand who he is and what having him in their lives can do for them.

And if I am honest, sometimes this is Jesus in my daily life. Not telling me what I want to hear but challenging me to look beyond and push myself a little harder spiritually and at times physically and emotionally to break through to where he calls me to be.

Sometimes we want to say to Jesus “Peace! I am out.” But the truth is, these are exactly the moments when the rubber hits the road.

When we are called to stay in relationship.

I am always struck by the poignancy of this passage. Jesus has been healing people, feeding people. He is not just a charismatic speaker. He has performed several miraculous acts by the time he lays down this particular truth of his selfhood. And yet the moment what he says gets a bit weird, several people just leave. They have no patience, no bandwidth for hanging in there with the unexpected or the unwelcome truth.

And he turns to the disciples and says, “Will you go away, too?” This part always tears me up inside just a bit. Because by now, Jesus loves these people. They are already his chosen family. But he has to know, will they walk this road with him? Do they really care enough to stay engaged when the going gets tough?

Will they stay in relationship? And they will. Because he has the words of life. They know, no matter how hard his word is to swallow, it is the only true fountain of life in this world.

At clergy conference this past spring a speaker spoke about family and congregational systems and how to reduce anxiety in them. She said that even if we don’t agree with someone, or if they make us anxious, we must stay in relationship with them. A lot of us questioned this in the case of people who make us actually feel physically or emotionally unsafe, and I think that is a valid point. Sometimes staying in relationship is just via prayer or at the distance of a letter. But the speaker encouraged us to keep talking with those with whom we do not easily get along. To great them at the peace, yes, but also to have a brief conversation at coffee hour. We may not speak about much of substance at any given time, but just staying in communication of some sort keeps the door open for healing and lowers anxiety.

And, in a way, we need to take this tack with God. Sometimes we go through hard things and we say, “hey God, what’s up with that?” but if we keep talking to God; keep praying and engaging with God, eventually we may see a glimpse of what God wanted us to know, even if it is simply that God is with us, in the good times and the bad times.

What I take from this passage in John is that we must remain faithful to God and each other by staying in relationship as best we can.

This is not always easy at all. The other night I was listening to the radio and happened to hear a brief interaction between a mother and a radio host. She said her son had died of a drug overdose, and she said something heartbreaking. That she understood that her son just could not figure out how to live in this world sober.
Life is beautiful, but it is also filled with pain for many of us. So many of us feel we need a filter. The true strength is when we can ask God to be that filter for us more than any other thing.

I think that sometimes when I read this passage we read today in Ephesians, about the armor of God, I think it is about how we need to show up in the really especially hard moments of life. But what if it really has to do with the strength—the spiritual armor—that we need to show up in everyday living? The strength we need to keep showing up?

 And who knows? Perhaps, showing up, staying in relationship with each other and with God as best we can, we might, somehow, eventually stumble into the paradise of God’s kingdom, together?