The Body and the Bread

Sermon for Sunday, July 26, 2009 Graves Chapel

Lessons for this day: Psalm 145; Ephesians 3:14-21; John 6:1-21

St. Paul writes of the the Lord's "power at work within us" as a force beyond our human ability to imagine or explain, a mystery to us humans, but something we feel nonetheless. This feeling that Christ is dwelling in our hearts Paul calls "the fullness of God." I think it is probably true that all Christians seek to experience that kind of "fullness," but I think it is also true that we don't always know how to achieve it. The indescribable mystery of it makes such a connection to Christ seem unattainable to too many people. I don't believe Christ ever intended for us to have such a hard time experiencing his nearness to us. In so many of the stories about him and in his words, he shows us the way.

This past Wednesday, July 22nd, was the saint's day for Mary Magdalene. Setting aside the recent sensational speculation about her in The DaVinci Code and other such books, we do know that Mary Magdelene was a very important figure in Christ's life. With the exception of Mary his mother, Mary Magdalene is the only woman mentioned in all four gospels. She follows him to the foot of the cross, staying with him until he dies, something most of his male disciples failed to do. On the third day, she rises early to go to his tomb and tend to his lifeless body, and in doing so, she becomes the first one to see the risen Lord. She has been called "the apostle to the apostles" since she hastens to obey Christ's instructions to her, that she should go and tell the others what she has seen. Through her tears and fear, Mary Magdalene cannot at first recognize the Lord, but she knows who he is when she hears him say her name: "Mary." In the gentle tenderness and sweet intimacy of that recognition, we can see and feel the tender nature of the love the Lord has for all of us. Mary Magdalene models what it means to have a relationship with Christ. Knowing that we are known by the Lord, that we are graced and embraced by God's love, and trusting in that love is all we need. That is the fullness of God.

Paul says that in this fullness, we are "rooted and grounded in love" as Christ dwells in our hearts by faith. To be grounded is to be "well-balanced and sensible" according to my Oxford American dictionary. Being grounded suggests having one's feet firmly planted. There is nothing silly or fanciful about grounding; being grounded is just plain common sense. Today's gospel lesson from John illustrates a way in which the Lord offers His very practical kind of grounding. In the story of the feeding of the 5000, Jesus instructs the people to sit on the ground in small groups so that they may be fed.

Hearing this story, we may get caught up in the miracle of it--how Jesus is able to take the five barley loaves and two fish and transform them into such an abundance of food that all 5000 people are plentifully fed and twelve baskets of food are left over. That is indeed a miracle, but it is first and foremost a response to a pressing human need. Let's look at what doesn't happen. Seeing that huge crowd of people, Jesus does not say, "Whoa, that's a lot of people out there, and they seem to really dig me. I wonder what I can get from them? Maybe I should call my agent and the marketing staff and see what we can sell them. I wonder if anyone would be interested in buying bottles of water from the Sea of Galilee? " No, Jesus does not allow the adoration of the multitude to stroke his ego or ignite his greed. Instead of looking at the crowd and wondering what they can do for him, he sees their need and seeks to help them and provide for them.
Nor does he shirk his responsibility. He doesn't sneak out the back way to avoid dealing with the situation. When Philip says, "Six months wages would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little," Jesus doesn't throw up his hands and shriek. After he hears from Andrew about the boy's fish and bread, Jesus simply says, "Make the people sit down." So, all of these many people are asked to be seated in small groups, where they can join together in the shared intimate experience of being fed by the Lord. Jesus reveals his power here, but not in the ways we might expect worldly power to be revealed. His power is found in the fullness of the love he shows his flock by feeding them abundantly.

Nowadays, when we Christians come to the altar to receive communion, we are reenacting Jesus's feeding of the 5000. What does that mean? Like the multitudes who craved the teaching of the Lord, we seek Him out on Sunday mornings. Whatever our backgrounds and differences may be, we join together as we move forward to kneel and receive the bread and the wine. And he fills us. As shocking as Christ's word are about our eating his flesh and drinking his blood, what we receive there is assurance of his love for us. Our ingesting of the bread and wine is a symbolic ingesting of the Lord himself. We physically and spiritually take him into our bodies and allow the Lord to live in us. In this way, he comes to dwell in our hearts. He lives in us, as we live in him. Literally!

Now, as a former high school English teacher, I think I'd better explain what I mean when I say "literally." I have certainly had occasion to point out to students who say such things as "It is literally raining cats and dogs" that poodles and long-haired persian cats are not, in fact, falling from the sky. The expression, "raining cats and dogs" is a figure of speech, of course, and things said figuratively are the opposite of things expressed literally. When I use the term literally, I mean to emphasize that what I have said is factually true. For something as highly symbolic, moving, and meaningful as the service of holy eucharist, I do not take my use of "literally" lightly at all. Ever since that first breaking of bread with the disciples, on that last night in the upper room, when Jesus gave to us the words we still use in our communion services,
we Christians have believed the Lord's promise that he becomes one with us in the eating of the bread and the drinking of the wine. The intention of the symbolism is to present the literal truth that Christ, in spirit and in power, enters our bodies and abides within us always. As the priest says:
"On the night he was handed over to suffering and death, our Lord Jesus Christ took bread; and when he had given thanks to you, he broke it, and gave it to his disciples, and said, “Take, eat: This is my Body, which is given for you. Do this for the remembrance of me.”

"After supper he took the cup of wine; and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, and said, “Drink this, all of you: This is my Blood of the new Covenant, which is shed for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins. Whenever you drink it, do this for the remembrance of me.”

The service of communion is a reminder to us that, since the spirit of the living Christ abides in each of us, then we are truly all one with each other as well as with the Lord. Is there any better way to illustrate that truth than by having us share a meal together as members of the same family? As thousands are fed in communion services here in our country and around the world on Sunday mornings, so the five thousand assembled in groups on a hillside above the Sea of Galilee were fed so many years ago by the Lord himself.

I think Jesus's instructions for the sharing of holy communion go beyond the symbolism of the service itself, however. He repeatedly said to the disciples, "Feed my sheep." Throughout the gospels, he instructs his followers to provide food and care for the poor and hungry. In the epistle of James, attributed to James of Jerusalem, believed to have been the brother of Jesus himself, James gets right to the point. "What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works? Can faith save you? If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, 'Go in peace, keep warm, and eat your fill,' and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? So faith, by itself, if it has no works, is dead." In our society, where greed and consumerism are celebrated and honored, sometimes we are afraid to share what we have with others. Giving up some of our plenty for the aid of others goes against the grain. The story of the feeding of the 5000 should allay our fears; as Christ both shows and assures us, the more we give, the more we will be given. The fullness of the Lord is abundance and abundant love.

Susan Hull