August 23, 2009 Des Moines

John 6:56-69

Otherwise Lost

In the early ‘80’s, the British punk-rock band The Clash had a hit song that posed the musical question, “Should I stay or should I go? You’ve just got to let me know: should I stay or should I go?”

That – and for demonstrably good reason – seems to have been the question on everybody’s mind listening to Jesus teach, this particular day, in the synagogue at Capernaum. And it doesn’t take a mind reader to understand why some of that larger assemblage of disciples opted to answer that question in the affirmative. It had started innocently enough. A couple of days before, Jesus had somehow seen to the feeding of some 5000 people near the Sea of Galilee, which sort of captivated peoples’ attention. Now in the synagogue but still thinking about all that food, talk naturally connected what had happened with the ancient story of manna appearing in the wilderness to feed the Israelites fleeing Egyptian slavery.

“Think that was something,” Jesus asked? “That was nothing. Eat that bread and you would only get hungry again. But eat the Bread of Life – which would be me – and you will never be hungry again.”

Thinking, I’m guessing, in more economic terms than spiritual ones, the people thought that sounded pretty appealing. Think of all the money a person could save never aging needing to buy food. Think of all the time you would save skipping meals and the hassle of the grocery store.

But then suddenly Jesus turned the conversation sour. “It’s all about eating my flesh and drinking my blood. That’s the way to live!”

“Really,” his listeners responded. Hmmm. Eating flesh? Drinking blood? Ummm, how nice. Could you please direct me to the exit? And could you hurry?”

I can’t really blame them. It sounds a little weirdly like Jeffrey Dahmer in reverse. Chances are, they aren’t the last people to turn up their nose upon hearing Jesus’ words. It is no wonder that the early Christians had to battle accusations of cannibalism!

“Oh my,” responded who knows how many in the crowd that day, “this is hard.” Or, as the New English Bible more comically translates it: “This is more than we can stomach! Why listen to such words?”

More than we can stomach, indeed! Is it any wonder that the walls of children’s Sunday School classrooms are conspicuously absent reproductions of great paintings depicting this story, filled instead with tender representations of Jesus as the “Good Shepherd,” and Jesus welcoming the children to his side and Jesus standing at the door and knocking. Even Peter, the eventual “favorite son” of this story, betrays some ambivalence when Jesus, after watching those others drift away, turns to the 12 and asks, “Do you also wish to go away?” If you look carefully you’ll notice that Peter never does directly answer the question; measuring his response, instead, to an acknowledgement of what he will do rather than betray any hint of what he might rather like to do if only he had a longer list of viable options.

My initial reaction is solidly with the crowd: “this is difficult. Who can bear it?”

The truth is that, while this sort of talk would certainly have violated Jewish sensibilities regarding ritual purity, and more general revulsions in most cultures toward eating other humans, at face value the idea is hardly a novelty. In her book, Pirates of the South China coast, 1790-1810, Dian H. Murray writes that, “To fortify themselves for combat, [pirates sometimes] bolstered their courage by eating the hearts of vanquished foes.” Certain Viking groups apparently followed a similar protocol. And it isn’t too far away from the hunting and dining practices of many indigenous peoples who reverentially eat first the internal organs of the freshly killed animals they hunted, believing that to do so not only honors the blessing of the fallen prey, but also imputes its life force into one’s own.

But though his words apparently confused or distracted, repulsed and maybe even morbidly intrigued some in his audience, the truth is that Jesus wasn’t really on the subject of our culinary habits. As so often happened when he taught, he had shifted into the figurative while his listeners remained stuck in the literal. Whatever goes into our mouth, Jesus was far more concerned with the nourishment of our heart and soul and mind and strength. Ah! A metaphor is such a terrible thing to waste! What Jesus was trying to communicate , I think, is the essential dynamic of making the Spirit of Jesus – his essence and practice and way of being – a part of one’s very self; taking Jesus and the Way of Jesus into ourselves and making him an integral part of who we are. And it has less to do with our teeth and our stomachs, and more to do with our comprehension and transformation.

But if the people listening to him that day got the subject matter all wrong, they had one thing completely right: life on Jesus’ terms is difficult. If your goal in life is simply to be well-fed, happy and carefree – with nary a ripple in your pond – Jesus is not going to be your man. But if you are seeking something deep and real, transforming and everlasting, the “difficult” in this case is the way. Peter recognized the truth, even if he wasn’t always enthusiastic about the implications: “You have the words of eternal life.”

Apart from him, we are otherwise lost.

I’m not trying to argue here doctrinal abstractions or religious orthodoxies. What I’m talking about here is how Jesus lived his life – the larger convictions that shaped him, the reliable behaviors that characterized him, the fundamental relationships that oriented him. Passionately transparent in his understanding about who God is and who we are and how those go together, Jesus constantly demonstrated the way to life in what he did and how he did it; what he said, and what he tried to pass along.

And if we find it hard, well, it wouldn’t be the first nor the last time that the “hard” thing proved to be the “right” and life-giving thing. Perhaps you have heard the story of Patrick Henry Hughes, a student and member of the band at the University of Louisville. Chances are that everyone associated with his inspirational story experienced moments when they felt like saying, “Wow! This is difficult. Who can accept it?” But who, nonetheless, recognized that this difficult way was indeed the way to life.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-qTiYA1WiY8

It must be incredibly hard for this father; hard and tedious, as well, for Patrick. It can’t help but be hard for the band director and the fellow students to accommodate and bring this determined pair along.

Yes, these words and this way are hard, and yet where else would we go? The way of Jesus is, indeed, hard at times – and scary – but the alternatives only look scarier, still.

“Where else would we go – or to whom? Without you we would be otherwise lost. You have the words of eternal life.”

And we, for our part, would have them...and live; the difficulties notwithstanding.