Come, Let Me Show You - Sermon on Mark 8:27-38 - 09.16.2018

Listen to the gospel and the sermon here.  Mark 8:27-38

27 Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi; and on the way he asked his disciples, "Who do people say that I am?" 28 And they answered him, "John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets."29 He asked them, "But who do you say that I am?" Peter answered him, "You are the Messiah." 30 And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him. 31 Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. 32 He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. 33 But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, "Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things." 34 He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. 35 For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. 36 For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? 37 Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? 38 Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels."

Who do you say that I am?  This is one of the most notable conversations of Jesus, and certainly one of his most memorable interactions with Peter.   Who do you say that I am? It is a question within scripture that I suspect most of us are familiar with. Some say you are John the Baptist, some say Elijah, some say a prophet, or other.  But, you, Jesus asks, who do you say that I am?

Today we find Jesus and his disciples on the road again.  They are making their way from Bethsaida to Caesarea Philippi, where Jesus will begin to transition to Jerusalem.  This moment of walking and talking serves as an interlude between Jesus’ public ministry and Jesus preparing the disciples for his impending death.   And it’s on the road, on the way, that Jesus asks the disciples “who do people say that I am?”

So the disciples offer some answers based on their experiences with the crowds.  They’ve witnessed first hand all that Jesus has done and they no doubt have an ear to the ground and the rumblings of the crowds.  They have a handle on the crowds expectations and interpretations of who Jesus is. Some say John the Baptist, some say Elijah, some a prophet, or other…

But you, inner circle, whom I have called to be my disciples, my followers, first hand witnesses...who do you say that I am?  Peter steps up and quickly replies, you are the Messiah! Without hesitation, out of Peter’s mouth comes this declaration of faith, You are the Messiah!

I suspect most of us think nothing of it because, of course Jesus is the Messiah...we know that.  Why wouldn’t Peter know that?

“You are the Messiah.”  I often wonder what makes Peter respond in such a way?  I wonder what it is that allows…empowers him to respond to Jesus with such a profound and decisive   proclamation of faith?   His response is more than a recitation, or simple answer. Rather it is a response of faith and confession. And I always wonder, why now?  What changed for Peter that helped him to see and understand? I mean, he and the disciples don’t have the best track record for knowing who Jesus is...So what changed?

Somewhere along the journey, Peter has come to know and profess Jesus as the Messiah.  That’s who Christ is….or, for Peter at least, the Messiah is who wants Jesus to be.

We often praise Peter for proclaiming Jesus as the Messiah, but I think that’s only because we A) know the ending of the story, and B) have a different understanding and expectation of a Messiah because we know the ending of the story.

And as confident as Peter may be in declaring Jesus as the Messiah, it all blows up in his face when Jesus tells them that the time has come for the son of Man to undergo great suffering, be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, the scribes, and be killed.   This doesn’t sit well with Peter, so he gets in Jesus’ face and rebukes him. You’re wrong, Jesus! No Messiah of mine will be defeated! My messiah absolutely will NOT undergo suffering. He surely wouldn’t be rejected by those in power. And my Messiah absolutely will not, cannot be killed.

For Peter, there is a drastic disconnect between his naming of Jesus as the Messiah, and Jesus’ actual reign as a Messiah.  Peter can not reconcile who he thinks and says Jesus is with the actions and impending future of Jesus as the Messiah.

Jesus responds, “Get behind me Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things!”  This exchange isn’t about Peter’s deep love for Christ and the prospect of a broken heart if he has to watch his friend, mentor, and rabbi die.  No, Peter’s reaction is because the future Jesus paints is NOT the future Peter wants or expects of Jesus as Messiah. Peter is selfishly professing who he wants, needs, implores Jesus to be rather than understanding who Jesus says he really is.

For Peter and the Jewish tradition of his day, Messiah was an anointed king, a ruler in the line of David that would come to reign over Israel.  He would restore Israel from the Gentiles. He would reclaim their independence and glory as God’s chosen people. He would overcome adversaries and oppressors.  He would rule like no king before. For the Jewish people, this is what the longed for. This is how they interpreted the prophets. And for Peter, Jesus was the hoped-for Messiah. Challenging authority, leading with confidence and power, teaching and healing in the name of God. Nothing was going to stop Peter’s expectation of Jesus as Messiah.

But the problem is, that’s not who Jesus is.  That’s no what Jesus will do. In fact, nothing to this point in the gospel of Mark has given any indication to Peter that Jesus will reign in this way.  Rather, Peter has set his mind on human things, selfish desire. Calling Jesus the Messiah carried such connotations and expectations, and every one of Peter’s expectations were crushed when Jesus told him what is to become of the son of man.

Peter confidently declares Christ as Messiah, yet his naming is selfish.  It’s rooted in his own understanding, his own hope and expectation. Jesus, you’re our Messiah, long awaited, and our expected Messiah is you are and will be for us.

Peter certainly is the first, nor the last person to define Jesus from his own perspective, hope, and expectation.  For as long as Christ has been proclaimed, the world has found a way to pigeonhole, define, limit, manipulate, or interpret that proclamation to best suit their personal need, agenda, or hope.  For centuries, the name of Christ, the Messiah, the son of God, has been confidently, yet falsely proclaimed to attack, defend, or justify human ambition and action. Human things. And when Christ is interpreted and proclaimed out of personal pride, preference, or perspective, then we abuse both the power and humility of the gospel message.  

And I’m not saying we should fault Peter.  After all, Peter’s hopes for a Messiah aren’t drastically different than our own.  How often do we pray for Jesus to come and rescue us from our troubles. Or pray for Jesus to guide political leaders and elected officials.  How often do we call upon Christ to bring justice to our enemies and righteousness to our actions. How we often do we call upon Christ to end war, calm creation, give meaning and understanding, demolish hatred, and restore us as God’s chosen people.

But the word of warning in today’s Gospel is that Jesus, the Messiah, the son of God and son of man will reign, rule, and resurrect well beyond any of our preconceived notions, preferences, expectations or understandings. We don’t get to define Christ, even in our best of intentions.

Rather we are defined by Christ.  We live, move, and have our very being by grace in Jesus, the son of man, the son of God, the Messiah.  And our Messiah is one who exceeds all expectations, leading with humility and grace. Jesus will restore, redeem, and set free, but he’ll do so in the most contrary way to the world’s expectations.   Rather than lead with force, and power, conquering adversaries and punishing the oppressors. Jesus will willingly and knowingly undergo suffering. He’ll be rejected with humility and grace. He’ll give up his life for the sake of the world.  So all people might have life and life abundant.

This is our Messiah.  And if ever we hope to faithfully proclaim Jesus as our true Messiah, and have confidence in our understanding of the son of God in doing so, then our call is to set aside our selves, and follow.  To lay down our life, and inward, selfish ambition, expectation, or hope, and follow. For naming the messiah is empty if only abstract. It is in the concrete action of serving and following our Messiah that will give faithful understanding to our proclamation.  

This is what Jesus instructs when he tells the crowd to “deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.  For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.”  Jesus would have Peter, the disciples, and the crowds turn from their selfishness. Dissolve and preconditions, expectations, or understandings they may have for their Messiah..and follow.  

Who do we say Jesus is?  Make no mistake brothers and sisters, this is a question that the world is asking, and the world is groaning for an answer that is faithful.  Who do you say that Jesus is? What is our response? Is it simply enough to say, “He is the Messiah”?

Well Brothers and Sisters, first it starts much like it did for Peter when Jesus bid him to come and follow.  We too, in the waters of baptism have been named and claimed, marked with the cross of Christ, sealed by the holy spirit, and called to be visible witnesses of the kingdom of God.  

Raised in faith, we too are taught and formed.  We read and discuss the stories of Jesus. We hear Jesus’s sermons and teachings.  We learn from his miracles, parables, and healings. We too, like Peter, come to know, understand, believe in, depend on, follow, and proclaim Jesus as the messiah, the risen son of the living God. Our Faith in Jesus Christ and our ability to proclaim as witnesses to God’s blessing of grace and love is empowered by our daily, tangible experiences of the living God in Jesus Christ.

In worship we are invited to Christ’s table to be consumed by the body and blood of Christ. We are filled again and again by the Spirit, We are fed and nourished, and we are sent out by God to follow Christ with a greater hunger. We follow Christ with a hunger for justice. We follow Christ as he serves a ravished world with love and grace. Follow to feed the hungry, care for the poor, clothe the naked. Follow the Messiah as he advocates for the outcast, gives voice to the oppressed and stands firm in the face of injustice.  

We are called and sent as a church, a body of individuals, empowered by our experience of the living God through the Spirit, to be visible and verbal witnesses to the world that Jesus IS the Messiah, the son of the living God.

It is through this calling that we respond answer who Christ is.  In faithful following and witness to Christ, our naming becomes a confession.  

So, “who do you say Jesus is…”  Some say John the Baptist, some say Elijah, some prophet.

Who do you say Jesus is? Some the Messiah, a king of kings, a mighty ruler. Some say the son of man and son of God.  Some say Lord, healer, and teacher.  Some say redeemer.

But perhaps the most powerful answer of all might be, “come, let me show you…”

Amen.

© Pastor Daniel Locke, preached Sept. 16, 2018 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Jacksonville, FL

Restoring Faith - Sermon on Mark 7:24-37 - 09.09.2018

Listen to the gospel and the sermon here. 

Mark 7:24-37

24 [Jesus] set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice,²⁵ but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet.²⁶ Now the woman was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter.²⁷ He said to her, "Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs."²⁸ But she answered him, "Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs."²⁹ Then he said to her, "For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter."³⁰ So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.³¹ Then he returned from the region of Tyre, and went by way of Sidon towards the Sea of Galilee, in the region of the Decapolis.³² They brought to him a deaf man who had an impediment in his speech; and they begged him to lay his hand on him.³³ He took him aside in private, away from the crowd, and put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue.³⁴ Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, "Ephphatha," that is, "Be opened."³⁵ And immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly.³⁶ Then Jesus ordered them to tell no one; but the more he ordered them, the more zealously they proclaimed it.³⁷ They were astounded beyond measure, saying, "He has done everything well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak."

Sermon

Bennet Alexander Locke, today you will be baptized.  Washed in the waters of grace, claimed by God in the name of Jesus, and sealed by the Holy Spirit.  You will be made clean. Holy. Sacred. New and beloved. You will be named. Bennet Alexander Locke, child of God.  In this sacrament, Jesus promises you life and life eternal. Life rich with the love of God. Life characterized by forgiveness and mercy.   Life that is free from sin, death, and the devil. Free to live in the abounding grace upon grace that only our God can offer.

In a just a few moments, as Bennet is presented for baptism, we will all make promises on Bennet’s behalf.  As the body of Christ, Bennet’s new and extensive family, we will affirm our call to love, support, nurture, and abide by Bennet in his new life in faith.  Family, friends, and sponsors, along with the whole body of Christ will respond to these promises with a resounding and zealous, “we will.” 

Our response is both an affirmation to Bennet of our love and support in his new life in faith, as well as a re-affirmation that we too have been claimed by God, made new in the waters of life.  In baptism we celebrate God’s eternal and abiding promise to never, ever leave us forsaken, orphaned, or alone. 

And thanks be to God that there is absolutely nothing that I, you, your family or friends, the community, or society can do to separate you from the love of God.  God claims. God names. And God abides forever, opening to us the way of everlasting life.

In 1526, during the heart of the protestant reformation, Martin Luther produced a new, revised order for the Rite of Holy Baptism.  For the most part, his new order for baptism was simply a German translation of the preexisting Latin liturgy for baptism. 

And while much of Luther’s liturgy is still practiced today, there are elements of the original liturgy we currently omit.  Mainly, the rituals related to exorcism. Rebuking the devil and freeing the child’s body from demonic-possession. Setting the child free from the power of the devil, making way to be filled with the Holy Spirit. 

And so first, the priest would blow into the child’s eyes three times saying, “Depart thou unclean spirit and give room to the holy spirit.”  Later he would place salt on the child’s tongue saying, “receive the salt of wisdom, may it aid thee to eternal life.”  Lastly, the priest would spit onto his fingers, sometimes add clay, then touch the child’s nose and ears and say “Ephphatha, that is, Be thou opened.  But thou, devil, flee; for God’s judgment cometh speedily.”

So, dad, sorry! I mean Pastor John, that feels weird, may I call you dad? Ya know what let’s meet in the middle with Father.  So, Father John, when you baptize Bennet in a little while, you would not be out of bounds to blow in his eyes, put salt on his tongue, and spit in his ears.  

"Ephphatha," that is, "Be opened."

In today’s gospel lesson, Jesus is still in pursuit of some peace and quiet.  Some down time. And if you’re joining us today for the first time, I think it’s worth knowing that Jesus has been chasing a quiet moment to rest for quite some time now.  

In fact, it was July 22nd, our gospel text said, “So Jesus and his disciples went away to a solitary place.”  They never made it to that solitary place. Rather, the opposite happened. His popularity grew, and as he moved from shore to shore, hillside to hillside, and town to town, the crowds have been relentless in their following. 

So today Jesus travels further into Gentile territory in the region of Tyre.  Let’s be clear, this was not Jesus’ primary mission field. We previously learned that his mission was first to the Jews, so surely, he’d be able to escape and hide in Gentile territory.  

I imagine Jesus, exhausted and weary from the journey, mentally and physically drained…overwhelmed with all of the people...  I imagine he’s probably a bit fed up with people challenging him or not understanding the things he says.  So he finds a house to escape notice, and I picture him hanging is robe, removing his sandals, rubbing his feet and letting out a sigh of relief that finally, just for a moment he can rest.  Nope.

Please sir, please please please, I need your help.  My daughter, She is possessed by a demon, and I don’t know what to do.  I have heard about the power you have to heal people. I am pleading to you as my last hope. Please, you have to help me! 

Now it should be said that by all cultural standards and norms, this woman has absolutely no business talking to, let along approaching Jesus. She’s a woman and women don’t speak to men.  She’s the wrong race and religion to talk to Jesus.  She’s unclean because her daughter is possessed.  And yet, there she is, broken hearted, and breaking every boundary to beg this Jesus guy, whom she had only just heard about, pleading him for help.

And in that I think we can appreciate this woman’s desperation.  She was a mother with a critically ill child. No cure or worse no certain diagnosis and therefore no hope for cure.  

She was an outcast in every possible way.  She was beyond desperate, ready to admit defeat that her daughter was doomed to suffer in mind, body, and Spirit.  She lived in fear of her child dying, and as a result she literally had nothing else to lose. 

And our text tells us that she immediately heard about Jesus, and that was more than enough to restore her hope.  So she seeks out this Jesus guy. She came and bowed down at his feet, and she begged him for help. She crossed every possible boundary, risking her whole-self, riding this sliver of hope.  Please sir, you have to help my daughter.

I’ve only been a father for 6 weeks, but it did not take but a second after Bennet was born for me to know that I would do absolutely anything for my son.  Especially if he was sick and there was no cure in sight. Especially if I was desperate and losing hope. And especially if I heard that there was even a sliver of hope that I could find him help.  

Ya know, before 6 weeks ago, I don’t think I every really appreciated the raw, desperate, and vulnerable plea this woman makes to Jesus, the social and cultural sacrifice she makes to beg at the feet of a man she had only heard about.  Please sir, I’ve heard about you. You have to help my child.

Jesus will go on to heal the woman’s daughter, freeing her of demonic possession.  And despite the cultural, social, economic, religious, physical, and endless boundaries that would preclude her from every interacting with Jesus, her daughter is healed.  Her daughter’s health is restored. Her status and life restored and made whole. She is freed to live. 

And I think the significance of this story is not so much Jesus’ ability or willingness to heal the daughter, but rather the immense hope that came to the woman upon simply hearing about Jesus.  Hearing the story of Jesus was enough to restore her hope and faith.  Sure Jesus gives her a hard time when she pleads for help, but ultimately it is the story of Jesus that gives her desperation hope, and leads her to the one and only one who can heal her child.  

In the second half of our gospel lesson, they bring to Jesus a man who is deaf and has a speech impediment.  Again we find someone begging on behalf of the other for Jesus to heal them and make them whole.  So Jesus takes the man aside, puts his fingers in his ears, spits, touches his tongues, and says “Ephphatha, be opened.”  Immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly.

Again, in Gentile territory, bending the norms of both cultural and societal expectations, Jesus is found offering healing, in perhaps the most expected moments.  These are stories of faith and hope, restoration and wholeness.  These are stories of Jesus interacting well outside cultural expectations to offer a new life to desperate, vulnerable, and broken people.  

This is what Jesus does.  And despite his request for them not to spread the word and rile the crowds, they can’t help but share.  The more he ordered them to keep it quiet, the more zealously they proclaimed it. In the same way that hearing about Jesus restored hope for a hopeless mother, the people zealously proclaim the astounding power of Christ. 

..

In just a moment, Bennet will be washed in the waters of baptism.  He will be claimed by God, marked with the cross of Christ, and sealed by the Holy Spirit.  Most of all, he will become an heir to God’s salvific story.  The story of God’s redemption for God’s people. A story that begins in his baptism as we bring him to the font, begging God to claim him into the body of Christ, and God does just that.  

God redeems us from sin, death, and the devil.   God cleanses us from all unrighteousness, casting away any demons, and bringing us to new life.  God washes us and says Ephphatha, be opened. 

Be open the story of God’s salvation.  Be open to plain hearing and zealous proclaiming.  Be open to the power of God’s story to restore hope and offer healing. And it will be part of our promise to Bennet, and to one another, to listen and proclaim the stories of God’s healing power. The stories of God’s grace and forgiveness. The stories of God crossing all boundaries to offer hope and life.  

And we don’t just share these stories for Bennet’s sake, or our own sake, or even God’s sake really.  We zealously proclaim God’s story for the sake of the world.  Especially today, to a world that is desperate for hope and vulnerable to false witness.  Especially today in a world that thrives on cultural, social, economical, political, racial, gender, sexual, and religious boundaries.  A world in which we are discouraged from crossing or  approaching, let alone begging for help from anyone outside the expectations of our boundaries. 

And so we are called to proclaim, zealously, to the world, a love that is boundless and limitless.   To tell the story of a God who tears down borders, brushes away the line in the sand, bridges the isle, and causes the devil to flee.  A God that created us, not so we might live within certain personal boundaries, but that we might all be made new in the one body of Christ.  One baptism of faith. 

Because the truth is, my friends, we are all beggars, desperately seeking the one who offers healing.  We all come as beggars to the baptismal font, longing to be free from sin death and the devil.  We all come as beggars to the table, longing to be fed and nourished, loved and healed.  We all come as beggars, burdened by sin, pleading to God for forgiveness and mercy.

And the good news my friends, is that God never, ever leaves us in our begging.  For our God is one who abides and overcomes any and all boundaries. Our God redeems, restores, and heals.  Again and again, God forgives, renews, feeds, and loves.

That is God’s story.  For all people, in all lands, in all times and places.  And on this day, Bennet Alexander Locke, as you are baptized by God into the body of Christ, you will be our witness to this powerful story of love and healing.  May we hear the good news, may our hope be restored.  

Amen.

© Pastor Daniel Locke, preached Sept. 09, 2018 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Jacksonville, FL

Late Nights, Diapers, and Talks About Stewardship

In the final seconds of July, Sarah and I welcomed Bennet Alexander Locke into the world.  It was, by far, the happiest moment of our lives. Each and every day since then continues to be a celebration of life as we rejoice to God over our precious gift.  We are truly blessed, and we thank God for this new bundle of blessing. We are also grateful to you, our community of faith, for the continued love and support. Lastly, and we might be biased, but we think he is the cutest kid in the whole-wide world! It is safe to say we are smitten.

Let’s be honest for a moment, raising a newborn is truly a learning experience.   I doubt that anyone will be surprised when I say this, but newborns require a lot of attention, energy, and resources.  Resources! Oh my, the number of diapers, wipes, and sheer amount of laundry is impressive. To be clear, I knew this would be the case, but I never expected Bennet to treat it like a game.  Some days I am convinced that he accepts a self-challenge to surpass the previous day’s resource totals. I imagine he wakes up some mornings and thinks, “today is the day that I set a new record and empty out the supply!” 

Somewhere around the 10th day of his precious life, Bennet and I were hanging out in the middle of the night, which is one of his favorite things to do.  It was sometime in the early AM and mid diaper change. No details necessary, but Bennet and I were in the midst of a battle-- one of those challenge moments.  Finally I threw my hands up and I said, “Bennet, I think it’s time you and I had our first conversation about stewardship and what it means to be a good steward.”

Stewardship, really?!  What a silly thing to teach my 10-day old son.  My exhaustion-induced comment was a culmination and expression of my own frustration.  Obviously my newborn has no concept, understanding, or even imagination of stewardship, and yet it was my chief concern in that moment.   This (changing) table-side chat with Bennet developed into a deeper conversation about children and stewardship with Sarah the next morning. 

It is remarkable how having a child of my own changes, or at least enhances my concern for the future.  Suddenly there is a revelation-- a conviction, really-- that the decisions we make today greatly impact the future. And I’m not just talking about budgeting, debt, college funds, and allowances, but the way we use and misuse the resources God has given us in creation will affect our children’s lives.  Suddenly I have a deeper appreciation and concern for melting ice caps, drastic changes in weather patterns, rising temperatures, carbon emissions, deforestation, natural disaster, trash accumulation, recycling, and financial planning. This is stewardship. 

Becoming a father is not only a gift from God, but it is an exercise in faithful stewardship. It is a commitment to faith that we (the whole body of Christ) will care for this remarkably good creation.  Faith that the decisions and choices we make now, on behalf of our children and our grandchildren, our nieces and nephews, and our friends’ little ones, will preserve, sustain, and appreciate the gift God has given us.  Faith that our children will grow up in a world that daily teaches them about being a steward. 

Our commitment and call to stewardship is so much more than diaper changes, laundry cycles, or even money.  Our commitment and call to stewardship isn’t really even a choice. It is a gift of our creator and a foundational characteristic of our very being.  It is who we are. Stewardship is a life-long, daily way of living that appreciates, cares for, preserves, and boasts the very good creation that God has bestowed upon us.  Stewardship goes well beyond the here and now.

So, dear ones, as the children among us grow, laugh, challenge, and learn, it will always be a good time for a conversation about stewardship.  And I ask God to help and guide us, so that we may be good and faithful witnesses for our children and their just-beginning lives in Christ.

Originally published in the St. Mark's Messenger, September 2018.  Read the full Messenger here.

To whom can we go? - Sermon on John 6:56-69 - 08.26.2018

Listen to the gospel and the sermon here. 

John 6:56-69

56 Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.⁵⁷ Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me.⁵⁸ This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever."⁵⁹ He said these things while he was teaching in the synagogue at Capernaum.⁶⁰ When many of his disciples heard it, they said, "This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?"⁶¹ But Jesus, being aware that his disciples were complaining about it, said to them, "Does this offend you?⁶² Then what if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before?⁶³ It is the spirit that gives life; the flesh is useless. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life.⁶⁴ But among you there are some who do not believe." For Jesus knew from the first who were the ones that did not believe, and who was the one that would betray him.⁶⁵ And he said, "For this reason I have told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted by the Father."⁶⁶ Because of this many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him.⁶⁷ So Jesus asked the twelve, "Do you also wish to go away?"⁶⁸ Simon Peter answered him, "Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.⁶⁹ We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God." 

Today is our fifth and final week with a gospel lesson from the sixth chapter of John.  For more than a month we’ve been reading, hearing, and discussing the 6^thchapter of John.  The entire chapter is dedicated to a discussion about Jesus being the bread of life, a new manna from heaven for all people.  A heavenly bread that offers eternal life to all who eat of it.

In today’s final installment, the sixth chapter of John culminates in a moment of decision for the dedicated crowd that has been following Jesus.  As Jesus wraps up his discourse on heavenly bread, he connects the dots between God providing bread from heaven and him being the bread from heaven. He then goes so far as to teach that eternal life is synonymous with the eating of his flesh and drinking of his blood. 

This whole thing started 60 verses ago as Jesus crossed to the far shore of the sea of Galilee to find a moment of rest.  He climbed the hillside and barely sat down before he saw a great crowd of people following him. Jesus tested Philip.  Philip, how are we going to feed these people?   Recall Philip saying, Jesus even if there were a place to buy enough food, we don’t have the money.  There aren’t enough resources. You’ll remember that Jesus then takes a small amount of food, 5 loves and two fish, from a boy in the crowd.  He lifts it up, blesses it, breaks it, and feeds the crowd. All eat enough that they are fed to satisfaction, and the disciples collect 12 baskets left over.   It was a moment of pure abundance. 

In that moment of feeding on the mountainside, the crowd received not only food to eat, but affirmation of their decision to follow Jesus.  They had let everything behind, family, work, and home to trail Jesus. To see what sign he might offer next. This feeding event served as a catalyst for the crowd.  

So over the last 5 weeks Jesus taught about the bread from heaven and the bread of life.  He’s taught us about the benefits of the bread from heaven, living bread and everlasting life.   He’s named himself as the new manna, the bread from heaven that will feed and give eternal life. 

And in today’s final segment of this entire discourse, this decision making moment, Jesus makes one final connection that some consider to be one step too far.  “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.”  “I am the bread from heaven and those who eat of my flesh and drink of my blood will have eternal life.”   …Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood will have eternal life.

There’s a popular anecdote that circles around with this text.  I don’t know if it’s true, but the story goes that as a pastor was presiding over the Eucharist one Sunday morning, he referenced this passage of scripture.  And once he lifted the bread and the wine and said whoever eats of this flesh and drinks of this blood will have eternal life. And almost immediately a young girl in the front of the church exclaims, eww yuck! 

Flesh and blood…ew! Yuck!  Can’t fault her. When we really think about it her response seems rather appropriate.  I would imagine that within the gathered crowd, at least one person audibly gagged or scoffed at the idea of gnawing on Jesus flesh and blood.

And it’s not just that Jesus’ proclamation sounds distasteful, but the crowds gathered would have easily made the connection to the Old Testament in which such an act was considered cannibalism.  It was unlawful and unclean. And in this culminating moment, when many of his disciples heard it, they said, "This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?"

Some Left

So it is this moment in the sixth chapter of John, when Jesus proclaims that eternal life comes through the eating and drinking of Jesus’ flesh and blood that some of the disciples say, “nope, I’m out.”  

This teaching is too hard.  It’s too far. It’s too much.  Feeding us on the hillside with such little food is one thing…healing people is one thing…preaching bread from heaven is one thing... but chewing our your flesh for the promise of eternal life is where we should draw the line.  So Jesus, thank you for this adventure, I appreciate the fish and the bread, but we’re going to head back now.

Hard teaching

"This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?"  Jesus offers his whole self, body and blood as nourishment for the journey. Like manna pouring from heaven for the Israelites wandering in the desert, Jesus offers himself as food for the journey.  His own body and blood to sustain and nourish them. I don’t blame them for leaving.  That is a hard teaching to hear. 

Honestly, I find comfort in their honesty and conviction.  These disciples who had dropped everything to follow Jesus were buying in whole-heartedly.  They were growing in faith, listening and learning...seeing and believing...but this moment was too far, the teaching was beyond their comfort or belief.  It complicated their understanding thus far.  So they walked away. 

Who among us, despite our life in faith hasn’t walked away? Or at least been tempted to walk away? Thanks Jesus, it’s been interesting and enlightening, but I’m just not with you anymore?  That teaching is too hard. I can’t accept it.

Being baptized, confirmed, or even a regular worship-attendee doesn’t make us immune to the difficult moments in life in which we can’t accept Jesus’ teaching. The deep, vulnerable moments of life that challenge our comfort or conviction. Moments when faith seems distant, arbitrary, or trite.  

When the teaching of Jesus is hard to hear. To know. To believe. I suspect we’ve all been there...ready to walk away...when the teachings of Jesus are hard to believe and we refuse to accept them. 

Jesus teaches eternal life even through death, but when you’re standing bedside by a loved one at or in the waiting room during an emergency.  

God created all things good and for good, right?  Yet we life in fear of that creation... violent hurricanes, like Irma, Katrina, and Lane...wildfires consuming California and forgiving no one in the way, earthquakes, volcanoes and typhoons…

We know good and well that Jesus teaches that we should love god and love our neighbor, but headlines...every single day challenge our faith school shootings, mass tragedies, senseless violence, wandering refugees, desperate immigrants.  

Jesus teaches peace, yet faithful as we may be we have never known a time without war or fighting.  Teenagers today have never lived a day without us being at war. 

Jesus offers healing, but even the strongest in faith shutter at disease, illness, and addiction. 

Jesus teaches of an inclusive kingdom, but our society and culture celebrate exclusivity.  

Faithful as we are, the world thrives on diversity, disparity, inequality, injustice, and oppression. 

Jesus teaches us who we are, but even our very identity in Christ is at risk when overwhelmed with loneliness, exile, bullying, despair, and depression. 

For me, it was 2007.  4 agonizing years of wandering in and out of hospitals, clinics, trials, and treatments, and cancer ended my mother’s life.  Absolutely the most brutal, pain staking moment of my life. And I knew the Jesus taught eternal life.  I knew that Jesus was abiding in my mother.  I knew that God loved me and my mother. I knew, even though I didn’t want to admit, that God didn’t cause my mom’s cancer or even take my mother’s life.  And if I had any reason or motivation to walk away from God during those 4 years, they were affirmed on January 30, 2007. It was a decision moment. Where a vulnerable moment of life directly challenged my conviction of faith.  Death and grief were too heavy for me to keep on following. The teachings were too hard, and I couldn’t accept them. 

In these vulnerable, decisive moments of life, when the teaching of Jesus seems so hard and our faith is challenged...the easy response is to walk away.  Turn around. Thanks, Jesus, for the journey thus far, but I think we’ll bow out now. 

... 

And yet, here I am.  Here each of you are.  Here we are. Again and again.  Choosing to walk on this holy ground, to be in the presence of the Lord.  To hear, pray, sing, confess, eat, and drink. 

To follow, if even hesitantly, to follow Jesus. Listening to the teachings and promises, regardless of how much we may resent them at times.  But why? Why would we keep coming back?

⁶⁷ So Jesus asked the twelve, "Do you also wish to go away?"⁶⁸ Simon Peter answered him, "Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.⁶⁹ We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God." 

You notice that Peter didn’t answer yes or no.  Peter, without hesitation says, “Lord, where else would we be?  Where else would we go? To whom else would we turn?” 

You. You alone have the words of eternal life.  The world may challenge that at every turn, but you Lord, you are the Holy One of God.  You alone have the words of eternal life. Where else would we go?

Peter isn’t saying that they have no other options.  Well, Jesus, you’re our last and only choice so there’s no reason to leave.  No, Peter confesses that Jesus, despite the hard and challenging teaching, Jesus is the Holy One of God.

And sure being a follower may be characterized by risk.  It means confessing teachings of faith that rub up against a culture and society.  It means pushing back against a world that that is so quick and so ready to render faith in Christ obsolete. .  

Certainly we don’t always understand.  In the synagogue that day, they couldn’t understand Jesus offering himself, body and blood, as nourishment and as promise of everlasting life.  We still don’t fully understand it. 

We may not always understand Jesus’ command to love or show peace.  We may not get turning the other cheek or serving the last, lost, and least. Because sometimes the teaching seems too hard to accept.

Yet here we come again and again, following Jesus, not because we’re out of options, but because deep within, Christ has claimed us, and in Christ we have no need, no desire to walk away. 

We may never fully understand that power of God, but we come again and again, following Jesus as best we can. We listen.  We taste. We see. We tell. In this moment we experience Jesus, through flesh and blood, bread and wine. God only knows exactly what happens in that meal.

But Deep within our core we come with sure and certain hope to experience Christ.  We come again and again.

Because to whom else can we go?

Lord, you and you alone have the words of eternal life.  Amen

© Pastor Daniel Locke, preached Aug. 26, 2018 @ St. Mark's Lutheran JAX, FL

This is Christ's Table - Sermon John 6:51-58 - 08.19.2018

Listen to the gospel and the sermon here. 

John 6:51-58

51 I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh."⁵² The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, "How can this man give us his flesh to eat?"⁵³ So Jesus said to them, "Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.⁵⁴ Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day;⁵⁵ for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink.⁵⁶ Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.⁵⁷ Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me.⁵⁸ This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever." 

This is Christ’s table and Christ is the host.  All are welcome to the altar rail, to stand or kneel as you are able.  Communion will be served by intinction. You may take the bread, dip it into the wine or grape juice, and consume.  

Communion is something we do every single week during worship.  It is an essential part of our worship service and an even more important practice in our Christian living.  For most Christians, Communion is considered a sacrament of faith, therefore it is a transformational experience within our worship.  In that significant moment, when the body and blood are offered and consumed, we partake in a heavenly banquet. With all the saints, past and present.  We receive a glimpse, a foretaste of the feast to come. And it is so much more than just a ritual of eating and drinking together. When the elements of bread and wine are given, we not only consume them, but the very presence of Jesus consumes us.  Christ fill us with grace and forgiveness, promise and hope. In the sacrament of communion we are reminded of God’s enduring promise of fruitful, eternal, and everlasting life. That whoever eats of this bread and drinks of this blood will have eternal life.  There is a reason we commune every single week.

Certainly the risk is then that such a regular practice can become routine.  Mundane. Expected and uneventful. We risk going through the motions, doing what we’ve always done and will always do without fully appreciating or accepting the promises expressed in communion.  We risk becoming indifferent or apathetic to the significance of the meal, rarely pausing to consider the gift we’ve been given. There is a reason we commune as often as possible. 

For us, as Lutherans, communion is one of two sacraments: Eucharist and Holy Baptism.  I suspect we’re familiar with both sacraments, we’ve seen them done and participated in them, but how often do we deeply reflect?  Intentionally dwell on their significance? How often do you faithfully process what takes place in the sacrament of Holy Communion?

Alright, put on your catechism hat for a moment of Lutheran 101 review.  For us, as Lutherans, What makes a sacrament a sacrament? Is it the ritual?  The words? The motions? Is it because Luther said so? I won’t ask you to answer out loud, but think for a moment, what makes a sacrament a sacrament.  Specifically, for today’s purposes, what makes communion a sacrament? After all, if we are to participate in the rite of Holy Communion every single week, one might argue we should understand it’s significance as best we can.   Luther actually says, “it is contempt for the sacraments that condemns, not lack of the sacraments” 

I see some minds turning.  What do we believe makes a sacrament a sacrament?  Luther teaches, and the church confesses that there are three criteria, components that make a rite a sacrament. 

First, there should be a physical element.  An earthly, visible element. Something we can see, touch, or even taste.  This is the component we’re most familiar with, right? Bread, wine, and water. Done.

Second, a sacrament is something Jesus commands us to do.  We might easily recall Jesus’ commissioning the disciples where he commands them to go out into the world, baptizing all nations in the name of the father, son, and holy spirit.  We might also easily recall Jesus commanding the disciples on a Thursday night in an upper room to “do this in remembrance of me.” A command by Jesus. 

So far, a sacrament is commanded by Jesus...go and baptize...do this in remembrance of me... and it has some type of physical, earthly, element...bread, wine, and water.

Arguably those two are the easiest for us to reflect upon and understand.   But it’s the third component that is so often overlooked. 

Third, a sacrament is connected with God’s promise, the word of God, which gives faith.  A sacrament, and in today’s case, communion is an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace given to us.  This means that by Christ’s command and through the earthy element, God’s promises are given to us. Graced upon us. Washed over us.  Consumed within us. 

Element, commanded by Jesus, Connected to God’s promise. 

For the last 5 weeks we have been trudging along in the 6th chapter of John.  It all started a few weeks ago as Jesus climbed the hillside for a bit of rest and the crowds followed him.  Jesus tested Philip and asked how they would feed everyone. So from 5 loaves and 2 fish Jesus blessed, broke, and fed all 5000 until they were satisfied.  They collected 12 baskets of leftover food. From the point on the crowd, especially the Jewish authorities have been entrenched in a conversation about Jesus and bread.  About Jesus and being fed. About Jesus and being filled with life.

We’ve heard Jesus say, “I will give you bread from heaven.” and “I am the bread of life”  ..Jesus makes the connection and says “I am the bread from heaven. He says “I am the living bread” and today he tells them “The one who eats this bread will live forever.” 

Our tendency whenever Jesus talks about bread is to interpret it in light of communion.  We understand him to be making allusions to the last supper and the institution of communion.  And that’s an easy connection for us to make. But if we consider the crowds gathered on that day, they have no memory, experience, or even concept of Jesus and the last supper becasue it hasn’t happened yet.  In fact, as John goes on in his gospel writing, there is no account of the final supper. No command to “do this in remeberance of me.” So chapter 6 is it. This is John’s moment of teaching with regards to Jesus and the bread of life.  This idea that Jesus, God’s son, is a sustaining source of life, a new manna from heaven. Jesus is the bread of Life, from God, for all people, by which we are fed and nourished and gifted eternal life. That is Jesus has been teaching in the 6th chapter, and it is what we have been unpacking the last few weeks.

And today’s excerpt from the 6th chapter of John narrows in on that third criteria of a sacrament.  The promises of God within the meal. Whereas the disciples and authorities are concerned with what the bread looks like and how they will receive it, Jesus offers a litany of benefits to eating.  

“Whoever eats of this bread will live forever”

“Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life”

“I will raise you up on the last day” 

“Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them” 

^“whoever eats me will live because of me” 

“The one who eats this bread will live forever." 

Jesus’ focus is on the promises received in the eating and drinking of the body and blood of Christ.  Jesus is proclaiming a promise of life. God’s promise of eternal life. Jesus is focused on life and living, now and in the future.  Present and not yet. For all who eat and drink will be filled with the grace of God and lifted up on the last day.

These are the gifts and promises of God given at the altar rail.  Promises of eternal life in Christ. Promises of health and salvation.  A promise that as much as we consume the bread and wine, Christ consumes us.  Fills our very being to the fullest with grace upon grace. In this meal, it is God’s promise to abide with us forever and ever amen.  When we but taste the bread and wine, the body and blood of our Lord, we join the whole company of saints in celebration of an eternal promise.   Like the Israelites desperately wandering the in the wilderness, God provides manna from heaven, food for the hungry, strength for the weak, hope for the journey.  Christ is our manna from heaven, the very sustenance by which we live, breath, and have our being. 

And we journey to the altar rail, where one and all come to Christ’s table.  Christ invites us to come, taste, and see not because that’s what we’ve always done.  Not just because Christ commands it. Not just out of guilt, routine, practice, or obedience.  We come to the altar rail, arms stretched out, because deep within we are desperate for the promises of God.  Desperate for the body and blood of Jesus to fill us again and again with grace, mercy, forgiveness, hope, and life.  We are wilderness wanderers, and we should be racing to the altar. Fighting our way to the front of the line, not because there won’t be enough to go around, but because we feel that we can’t get enough of what God promises in this holy sacrament.

Throughout the gospel Jesus regularly encounters people of God around the table.   Jesus accepted an invitation to dine with Levi, a tax collector. He accompanied Zacchaeus and remained at this home.  Twice in Luke’s gospel Jesus dined with Pharisees and risked ridicule. On the road to Emmaus Jesus accepted an invitation to dine with mourners and hear their story.  Again and again Jesus shares in a meal with sinners, tax collectors, lawyers, rich elites, poor peasants, oppressed, and the outcast of society. 

And in the end, it is Jesus who flips the script and becomes the host.  In this meal, Jesus host. Jesus prepares a banquet, a feast, and invites all people to experience the gift of grace.  And this table is open, welcoming, and unconditional. Christ welcomes all to the table that is abounding in steadfast love and overpowers all boundaries.  It is christ’s table and Christ is the host. All are welcome to come, taste, see, and be consumed with God’s promise of life and life everlasting. 

And friends, when we truly reflect, embrace, and embody the fullness of God’s promises in this meal we are changed.  We are transformed. We are made alive in Christ, here now and forever. In the meal Jesus nourishes us in faith, forgives our sin, and empowers us to be faithful witnesses of the good news.  The sacrament is life-giving not only because Jesus is the host, but also because Jesus is the one given. The bread from heaven. And whoever eats of this bread will live forever. This is the promise of God, and the reason we come again and again to the rail, every time we worship.  

Amen.