“I am the bread of life.” (John 6:48)
Where do we see God? Do we even bother to look for God in our everyday world? I, for one, walk around like a zombie most of the time, my mind on whatever trivial crap I have to do in the moment, and I don’t often let my waiting-to-get-senile brain soak up some of the cool stuff that God keeps throwing at me. And yet, there’s something of the holy in just about everything if we’re open enough to see it.
There’s something of the holy in everybody, too. I’ve been watching the Tokyo Olympics on TV this week, and I find myself wondering just how the heck do those kids do what they do? The women’s gymnastics look to me like something out of the superhero comic books I read as a kid. How do they fly through the air like that? It’s just superhuman!
And then I start to wonder how these God-given gifts were first manifested and appreciated. When did Simone Biles’ parents know their daughter was blessed with divine super powers? Do they ever think as they watch her that the awe they experience can be a way of worshiping God?
In the Gospel lesson for Pentecost 11, Year B (John 6:35, 41-51) we meet some folks who just don’t think the ordinary and the divine have anything in common. The “Jews”[i] really get their boxer shorts twisted when Jesus claims to have come down from heaven. They’re not seeing anything divine in this guy. They know who his folks are, and they’re not impressed with his pedigree. In fact, they’re actually rather offended by the chutzpa Jesus shows in claiming to have a divine origin or connection. To these guys, Jesus’ remarks are just plain old blasphemy. They consider it arrogant to claim any close connection to the Father God. In their tradition, you just don’t want to get too close to God.[ii]
For these religious Judeans, it’s an impertinence to call God by name; nevertheless, here comes Jesus declaring “I AM”—using the name for God—all over the place.[iii] In John’s Gospel, Jesus seems just a little more divine than in the three synoptics. He keeps shoving the one-ness with the Father in everybody’s face. But, if you think about it, where else would we encounter the mystery of God but in a human being, one whom the Hebrew Scriptures tell us was made in God’s image?[iv]
Some Bible scholars[v] think that John’s Gospel was written in opposition to a bunch of early Christians known as the gnostics. These guys thought they were just a little bit more special because they possessed secret, esoteric knowledge of Jesus which the less spiritually mature weren’t capable of grasping. John, in contrast, always seems to be telling us that God is close at hand, an idea which would make those back-pew sitting Judeans really uncomfortable. If you want to experience God, John tells us, start by looking at the person who was willing to give his life on the cross. Even if you have no belief in a divinity at all, you have to admit that a guy who stands up to the oppressive powers of the day in the full knowledge that he’ll be impaled on a piece of wood and left hanging there to die in consequence of his actions is pretty darn unusual. Love like that just doesn’t come along every day.
Looking to Jesus should remind us that an amazing, sacrificial, and superhuman love is both possible and real. God is near, and the best way to experience that nearness is to look for God—not in some theoretical heaven—but in the people around us. I always say that my job as a Christian is to seek Christ, to be willing to see Jesus in others and to try to be Jesus for others. But if I’m not willing to see him, I can never be him.
For me, there can be no other regular reminder of the nearness of God in Jesus than coming with my brothers and sisters to the Lord’s Table. There’s just something both divine and ordinary in sharing a meal.
I’ll admit that I like to eat, and I also like to cook. At least, I like to cook breakfast. Since my daily schedule and diet are different from that of my Bride (and because I’m a dude and inclined to be bit messy), I often cook my breakfast at church. It’s the most important meal of the day, they tell me, so I make eggs and bacon and have toast and fruit and lots of other stuff. When I’ve consumed this delightful repast, I feel properly fortified to begin my work day. Funny thing, however: by lunch time I’m hungry again. But when I share the bread that is the body of Christ, I have all the sustaining power I need to get through life in this crazy world. His love, his sacrifice, and his presence stay with me.
Our God is transcendent and imminent. In the bread and cup, in the Word, and in those extraordinary ordinary folks who surround us—he is always near. Isn't that wonderful?
Thanks for visiting with me this week!
[i] “Jews”
might be translated as “Judeans,” but it basically means the religious
establishment. You have to figure that Jesus, his disciples, and darn near
everyone else we’ll meet in this Gospel is ethnically Jewish.
[ii] You’ll
note that the Holy of Holies in the temple was always curtained off from view.
The name of God could only be pronounced by the priests. The patriarchal heroes
of the Hebrew Scriptures were afraid to look on the face of God. Check out Genesis 32:30; Deuteronomy 5:24; Judges 6:22–23; Judges 13:22; Isaiah
6:5; Revelation 1:17; Exodus 24:10–11.
[iii] I
AM can be considered part of the divine name as in “I am who I am” in Exodus
3:14.
[iv]
See Genesis 1:26.
[v]
Particularly the Princeton scholar Elaine Pagels. See her book Beyond Belief: The Secret Gospel of Thomas (New
York: Random House, 2003). It’s really good.
No comments:
Post a Comment