“Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood
abide in me, and I in them.” (John
6:56)
So here we go, one last time with the Revised
Common Lectionary’s slow and painful slog through the sixth chapter of John’s
Gospel. How many more times do I have to preach on this series before I can
retire, I wonder? But, hey! It’s scripture, and it certainly has something to
teach us if we’ll be patient with it. Unfortunately, there’s so much stuff jammed
into the assigned Gospel for Pentecost 14 (John 6:56-69) that discussing it all
may seem like a lecture in Biblical studies and will probably end up being
dryer than a snake’s fart. I’ll try and make this as painless as possible.
First, this section of John’s Gospel
starts with the rather disgusting quote I’ve cited above. This sounds pretty
yucky, doesn’t it? It’s like Jesus is suggesting cannibalism—which is doubtless
what some of Christianity’s earliest critics imagined. But the folks who first
read this Gospel surely knew that it was a reference to the sacrament of Holy
Communion.
Here’s the dealio: John’s gospel doesn’t
actually have the story of the Last Supper in it the way this tale appears in
the other Gospels. I think—and others may agree—that old John is taking a
little poetic license when he tells the Passion story. He doesn’t have Jesus
break bread and say, “This is my body,” because he figures everybody knew that
story already. Instead of having Jesus eat the Passover meal with his
disciples, he has the night of Jesus’ betrayal and arrest take place before the Passover, and has the
crucifixion occur on the day when the Passover lambs were slaughtered. This
underscores his theology of Jesus’ sacrifice for us. It makes Jesus the “Lamb
of God who takes away the sin of the world,” as he has John the Baptist say in
John 1:29.
Pretty much everyone who read John’s Gospel
in the late first or early second century of the Common Era understood the reference
to Holy Eucharist. There was undoubtedly some divergence as to what this special
meal signified, but I’m thinking all Christian communities observed it.[i] John always wanted his
community to know that Jesus gave his life as an atonement for our sin. When we
take communion—among other aspects of this sacrament—it’s pretty important to
recall that this man Jesus loved humanity so much he was willing to undergo an excruciating
torture and death so we could get our collective act together. If we’re looking
for God, we can find no better place to look than to the flesh-and-blood
reality of sacrificial love.
In verses 60 – 65 John tackles the rather
uncomfortable truth that many early followers of Jesus drifted away from the
faith. If you figure that John’s writing around the year 100 CE, this makes
perfect sense. There had already been a pretty darn nasty persecution of
Christians which became official Roman Empire policy by the time John wrote his
Gospel. If you’re going to get tortured and killed for your faith, you might
want to think twice about it. It took real guts to be a Christian in those days,
and a lot of folks begged off.
This sparks two thoughts in my little
brain. First, being persecuted for being a Christian is a lot more than just
not being able to say, “Merry Christmas” at a publicly sponsored gathering. For
the record, there is no persecution of
Christians in the United States of America. For all those whiney anal sphincters
(metaphorically speaking) who complain that Christianity is under attack in the
US, I suggest you move to Turkey, Saudi Arabia, or Pakistan and try to be a
Christian there. If you meet the
Christians of those nations you’ll come home with a whole new appreciation of
what it really means to suffer for your faith!
Secondly: Not everyone is going to “get
it.” As Jesus points out in the parable of the sower[ii], not everyone who hears
the Gospel is going to stick with it. People come into our communities for
different reasons and different seasons. It’s not our job to judge them, just
to love them. Where this gets sticky in the text we’re looking at is verse 65
where Jesus says, “…no one comes to me unless it is granted by the Father.”
Reading this passage could give rise
to the notion of “predestination.” That is, the belief that God simply decided
that some people were just meant to fry in Hell and there’s nothing you can do
about it.
My answer to this is always in remembering
that John is a Jewish guy. In the Hebrew Scriptures it’s pretty much assumed
that everything that happens happens because God decrees it to happen. For example, Pharaoh acts like a tyrannical, oppressive
bastard because God wants him to—just
so God can have the joy of crushing him later[iii]. This doesn’t seem like
the kind of God Jesus would have us believe in, does it? So, what do we do with
this passage which seems to suggest that only a certain elect are granted to
come to Jesus? Is it because God capriciously decided to create an exclusive
club?
For my money, I think it’s good to remember
that the rain falls on good folks and the bad folks alike. None of us chose to
be born. None of us invented the beauty of this world. None of us created the
air we breathe, the food we eat, or the water we drink. None of us invented
love. Every good thing—and even every bad
thing which we can turn into a good thing—comes from the Creator God. We
didn’t choose to have Jesus suffer on the cross. We don’t choose to have a
gracious God. God just is that way.
I like to look at John 6:65 as a reminder
that I didn’t think any of this up. I’m just fortunate to know God’s goodness
because God happens to be good. I don’t deserve it. I see in Jesus’ sacrifice
the meaning of true love, and I certainly wouldn’t have thought to give myself
up in love like Jesus did if it hadn’t been shown to me first. The Father has
granted it all. I didn’t do anything. I think it’s best, therefore, to view
this passage, not as judgment, but as a reminder of God’s grace.
The really cool passage in this section of
scripture is verse 68 where Jesus asks if the disciples want to bail on him
like some of the others have done. Peter responds, “Lord, to whom shall we go?
You have the words of eternal life.” This final lesson in the John 6 marathon
includes reference to both the Sacrament and the Word. If we’re going to be
Christians, let’s remember that we need a steady diet of both. Religion is both
belief and practice. If you really, really want to walk the path, you need
to experience eating with your fellow repentant sinners around the altar of the
Lord and remembering the love and compassion of Jesus. You also need to feast
on a steady diet of the words of eternal life.
Thanks again for stopping by.
[i] I
wrote more about this a few years ago in a post entitled “I Am the Bread of
Life” posted on August 12, 2012. It’s in the Popular Posts column to the right
if you want to check it out. Better yet, read Rabbi Jesus: An Intimate Biography by Bruce Chilston (New York:
Random House, 2000).
[ii] Matthew
13:1-23, Mark 4:1-20 and Luke 8:4-15—just in case you want to refresh your
memory.
[iii] See
Exodus 9:12 and 10:1. I don’t know about you, but I feel really smart when I use
end notes!
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