Sermon
8-16-15
Grace and peace to you from God our father and from our
Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ. Amen.
Goodness, Jesus. Enough with the bread already. We get it,
ok? Jesus…. Bread. Jesus, bread. Jesus-bread. Bread seems like it should be pretty easy to understand…
right?
But have you ever actually made bread? Do you understand
the art and the science that goes into this food that has been part of our
diets for thousands of years? Have you ever thought about where bread comes
from?
After church today I can hop in my car and drive down to Shop Rite, and there I can buy any kind of bread imaginable – super white bread,
whole-wheat bread, honey wheat bread, 9 grain bread, pita bread, rye bread,
sourdough bread, Italian bread, French bread, poppy seed bread, you name it,
they probably have it. I can walk in, make my selection, go home, and enjoy it.
In no other time in the history of the world has this been possible, and there
are still many places around the world and in our own country that this is not
the case.
If you or your child recently took first communion
classes at this church, you might remember a little of how that bread was made.
There was some flour sifting, some mixing, some milk and honey and yeast being
added, some shaping. You saw the ingredients come together. You felt the flour
on your hands as you kneaded the dough. You smelled the honey. You heard
laughter as we all tried to keep the mess to a minimum. You may even have snuck
a taste when the rest of us weren’t looking. And then in the oven it goes, and
out pops some of the most delicious bread ever.
But I for one don’t know how bread “works.” I’ve never
thought about how it is that power from a crushed plant, plus water, plus a
fungus could be so delicious. Bread is amazing, if you really think about it. It
is actually alive, then dies, then lives, then dies again, so that WE can live. (This TED talk is where I learned all the following about bread)
The plant we call wheat grows tall and strong, creating
seeds, which over the course of thousands of years, has learned to graciously
release them to us. Seeds, if you remember from your sixth grade science
course, are potential life. Some of these seeds we do indeed save and plant in
the next growing season. But some goes into making our bread.
The wheat was alive, and the seed is potential life, but
then… we crush it. Obliterate it. Take away any possibility for sprouting and
growing. A seed is not dead, but flour is.
BUT THEN we combine the flour with water and yeast… and
it becomes alive again. As the yeast grows, it actually burps and sweats, making
the bread rise up and taste good. Kinda gross, but oh so delicious. This bread
becomes a living thing.
And then, we put in in the oven. The heat makes the dough
solid, and the crust crispy, and the ingredients bond, but it also kills the
yeast. So what comes out of the oven is no longer alive in any way. No seeds,
no yeast. Just… bread.
But then… we eat it. We gather around a table, we laugh,
we cry, and we eat bread. I mean, what Italian meal would be complete without
it?
So the bread comes alive once again, in us. It was alive,
then dead, then alive, then dead, then once again alive. Bread truly is a food
of resurrection.
The men and women who were listening to Jesus that day
could not have told you about all the reasons that bread is bread. They just
knew. They knew it, deep down in their bodies. The women knew with their sweat
and their aching arms and a day’s work what it means to go from crushed seed to
steaming bread to feed their families. The men knew with their sweat and their
aching arms what it means to eat what their women have transformed - from the
seed they harvest to the bread they eat. They knew in their bodies that bread
is more than just bread, and eating is more than just eating.
A woman named Sara Miles knew this too. She might be the
last person that we would expect to see in church: a staunch atheist and skeptic, world traveling war correspondent, lesbian, and single mom. But one
day she walked into St. Gregory’s Episcopal Church in San Francisco,
California, and received Holy Communion for the very first time.
And it changed her life. She describes that moment when
she at the bread and drank the wine, as Jesus happened to her. From that moment
on, Jesus had lodged into her, like a crumb, refusing to be shaken off. She
went home that day shocked and confused at what happened. But she did know one
thing, knew it deep in her body: she wanted that bread again. And again. And
again.
If you recall, all those weeks ago when we first started
the “bread of life” part of the summer, the first part of the story Jesus feeds
people. He takes five loaves and two fish and feed over five thousand people. That’s
about the entire population of Hightstown. Jesus fed all these people ACTUAL
BREAD before he started he even began saying “I am the bread of Life.”
We are what we eat. When we eat bread, we eat death and
resurrection and our bodies continue to life. And when we eat Jesus, we are
eating Jesus’ death and resurrection, and we continue to live in Jesus.
This kept Sara Miles coming back, week after week, to
receive the body and blood of Jesus. She later joined St. Gregory’s, got
baptized, and became an active member on the congregation, eventually helping
to serve communion herself. Then she started a hugely successful food pantry,
which grew to hundreds of people, which became very controversial within the
congregation. But along the way, she realized something.
As she was in yet another meeting about “church growth”
along with one of her priests. As they talked afterward, she said to him, “The
point of church isn’t to get people to come to church… [it’s] to feed them, so
they can go out and, you know, be Jesus.” (p. 267)
We are what we eat. When we eat bread, we grow healthy
and strong, ready for the day. When we eat Jesus, we are also strengthened for
the journey of following Jesus and actually becoming more like him. And so
sometimes we are able to be Jesus for one another.
I experienced Jesus just recently, during the ELCA Youth
gathering. Actually I saw him show up quite a bit, but this particular time was
when the entire New Jersey Synod gathered in one big room. Our time together
closed with worship, and a couple of youth from one of the Mercer county
churches we went with helped to serve communion. As this particular young man
placed the bread in my hand, he said
“the blood of Christ shed for you.”
And these words were more beautiful and meaningful to me than if he had gotten
the words “correct.” They were beautiful and true because they were spoken in
the name of the one who gives all of us life through his body and blood.
This life we receive keeps us coming back for more, week
after week. The rest of the week can often try to defeat us and deplete us.
This is not an easy road, to follow in Jesus’ footsteps when the rest of the
world around us would rather follow something or someone else.
In the end, it’s not about how well we think we understand
what Jesus is saying – that’s where Jesus’ critics got into trouble and missed
the whole point. It takes a lifetime to wrestle with and literally CHEW ON all
that Jesus is and teaches. It’s not really about the “right” words or the
“right” thoughts or the “right” people. In the end, it all comes down to the
promise that Jesus is the living bread and that by eating it we will be forever
with him. That God is with us in a way that we can see and touch and smell and
taste in Jesus. And through us, other people are able to see and hear and touch
Jesus. AMEN.
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