Christ the King-Epiphany, Wilbraham

The Rev. Martha S. Sipe

August 18, 2024 / Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost / Lectionary 20B

John 6:51-58

In case you didn’t get the message, I just want to remind you that Jesus is the Bread of Life.  Yes, this is the fourth of five weeks in which the lectionary gives us gospel readings from the sixth chapter of John.  The fourth of five weeks – that’s right, there’s one more next week – that focuses on bread.  As Deacon Michael and I were reflecting on this a couple of weeks ago, he said, “Yeah, we’re definitely carb-loading this month.”

Honestly, the first thing that I think about when I hear the phrase “bread of life” is the gift we receive in holy communion.  The icon on your lessons and hymns insert certainly leads us there.  Did you notice it?  The host and chalice, the wheat and the grapes.  However, it’s been clear, in this sixth chapter of John that Jesus isn’t just talking about communion.  When he fed the five thousand and talked about manna, he was speaking of God’s provision for our physical hunger, our physical needs.  He also spoke of spiritual hunger being satisfied by this bread of life – the gift of life for the world, the gift of eternal life.  But finally, in today’s verses, he makes what can clearly be seen as a eucharistic reference:  Vs. 54:  “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day.”  Eating flesh and drinking blood – this is clearly about communion, even though Jesus is not celebrating communion in this story.  As I mentioned, we’re only in the sixth chapter of John; Jesus’ last night with his disciples comes much later in the book.  And in the Last Supper as John describes it there is no mention of a loaf bread or cup of wine, no words, “Do this for the remembrance of me,” but only the story of Jesus washing the disciples’ feet.  So this is, really, the only time that Jesus speaks of the sacrament in the Gospel of John. 

What can be said about the sacrament of holy communion?  Well, a whole lot, right?  Don’t worry, though – I’m not going to offer here a comprehensive treatment of the sacrament.  I only want to highlight two things from Jesus’ words.

The first is to note the graphic nature of what Jesus says.  It’s no wonder that the early Christians were accused of cannibalism.  In this passage, Jesus repeatedly speaks of eating his flesh and drinking his blood.  We take this language in stride because it’s so familiar to us, but I could understand why someone who doesn’t share our traditions might find it rather off-putting!  And it gets worse.  I’m no Greek scholar, but I understand that the word Jesus uses here for “eat” roughly translates “gnaw on.”  Now it’s hard to imagine “gnawing on,” or sinking our teeth into, our little wafer dipped in wine.  That’s why I love the physicality of this image.  It reminds me that God isn’t just some spiritual force; God became a physical person.  And God doesn’t just value our spiritual life; God wants to unite with us physical beings, with all of our flaws and imperfections.  Jesus doesn’t just care about my spirit.  He cares about all of me.  Eating Jesus’ body and drinking his blood also reminds me of the physical sacrifice he made for us.  Think about all the sacrifices that are required, all the work that is contributed, between farm and table.  Now think about all the sacrifices that were required, all the work that was done, between Jesus’ life and our table.  Jesus’ graphic language also reminds me that he is someone we are invited to consume – to chew on, to swallow, to digest, so that he literally becomes a part of us.  Receiving him into our hands takes only seconds – but we feel his effects on us for days, for months, really forever.  Jesus is the bread of life.

My other highlight for you from this passage is to note how the creators of the lectionary frame Jesus’ words.  In v. 51, at the beginning of the passage, Jesus says, “I am the bread of life that came down from heaven.”  Then, in the last verse, Jesus says, “this is the bread of life that came down from heaven.”  All of his words about eating and drinking are encompassed within this idea:  that Jesus came down from heaven.  

Philip Martin, the pastor of Epiphany Lutheran Church in Richmond, VA, tells the story about one of his congregation’s Wednesday evening eucharistic services.  It happened that one Wednesday evening, the women’s retreat committee was having a meeting at the same time as that Holy Communion service in another room elsewhere in the building.  They had made it a dinner meeting and had ordered pizza to be delivered, and they mentioned to Pastor Martin, right before worship, that the delivery man might not know which door to come to.  He told them not to worry—that he would point the pizzas in the right direction.  Worship started, and so did the meeting.  Then, right as the pastor was standing in front of the altar, his arms spread open in prayer and about to bless the bread and the wine for Holy Communion, the large, heavy, red front doors of the church cracked open and the evening sunlight streamed through.  All of the worshippers, as one, turned their heads, focusing on the person who propped open the door with his foot and then started straight down the center aisle of the nave with a stack of steaming hot pepperoni pizzas.  Since there was no one else to receive him, the delivery guy walked all the way down the aisle with those pizzas and met the pastor at the altar.  The service was put briefly on hold so Pastor Martin could show him out the side door.    On the one hand, Pastor Martin reflected, the timing could not have been worse.  At this holy moment of the consecration of the bread and wine, everyone was looking, not at the altar, but at the pizza guy.  But on the other hand, he reflected, it was a great reminder that “the God to whom we pray, the God we worship, the God we call to for life and salvation is a God who comes down to us from heaven.  The God who sends Jesus is not a God who asks us to be a certain way or do certain things in order to reach him, as if our task is to climb to [God’s] holiness.  The living bread comes down from heaven to give life for the world. . . .  [He writes:]  Although those of us in the sanctuary that night didn’t get to eat it, the pizza made us think again how the whole story of Jesus is one about delivery.  It’s not take-out.  It’s not pick-up.  It’s God delivering all of God’s fragile but mighty self into our midst, repeatedly – delivered into the manger, into the humble fishing life in Galilee, into the suffering of ordinary human beings, delivered into our very hands.” (1)

Jesus is the bread of life:  a real sign of his real presence in our real lives; a gift delivered to us from heaven.  Blessed are we who are called to the supper of the Lamb.

1)   https://asermonforeverysunday.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/07/Phillip-Martin-12th-Sunday-after-Pentecost-8-15-2021.pdf