I Am the Bread of Life ...

(Read John 6:31-40)

Last Wednesday was Ash Wednesday – 46 days until the height of the Christian church year, the celebration of Easter. And even though some or many of us may not formally recognize the Lenten season, don’t we long in this long winter to greet one another on that morning with those most comforting words, “He is risen!” and “He is risen indeed!”

I’ve chosen to speak on one of the “I Am” sayings of Jesus so that when that great morning arrives again this Spring we will have a clearer understanding from His own words, the words of Sacred Scripture, just who He is.

Although our text seems to get right to the heart of the matter, a little background is needed.

Jesus, the day before he spoke these immortal words, “I am the bread of life,” had fed the multitude – the 5000 – with five barley loaves and two fishes. After this the disciples went on ahead in the boat toward Capernaum while he slipped away for some quiet time alone in the mountains.

And after dark he came walking to the boat on the water – on rough seas – and seems to have teleported the ship and disciples immediately to dry shore. (v. 21)

The crowd, those who had enjoyed the free meal, found him this next day and pressed him for more – pressed him for another free meal, at least, and possibly something else – pressed him for power, to use his power to help them restore their greatness, to take on their Roman oppressors. He engages them in a brief conversation, saying they are not looking for a sign, but for free meals. Their hearts were not inclined toward heaven but toward earth.

What is Lent if not to remind us to examine ourselves, if we are Christians, whether our hearts are so inclined, a time to repent and separate more fully what is of heaven and what is not of heaven in each of our lives.

Jesus tells the people just that – to not work for food that perishes – earthy food, earthly matters, but for heavenly food, heavenly matters. “This is the work of God,’’ he says, “that you believe in him who he has sent.”

But again they ask for a sign, evidence that Jesus has, indeed come from God. They note that manna was provided from heaven. Sure, Jesus had fed 5000 one time, but the manna had fed the entire nation for forty years!

Bread, a constant, reliable source of food, is power. And such power is a worldly, not heavenly pursuit. No doubt this is why Jesus in another passage teaches his disciples to pray, “Give us this day our daily bread …”

What is Lent if not to remind us that we are like the multitude, needing to be reminded again and again and still we don’t quite catch on to the main teaching, that this world is not our home and we need to stop acting as if it were.

Our associations with bread are associations of plenty – because most of us in this part of the world have never known real hunger or anything close to it. The generation that saw the worst of the Great Depression will soon be gone. Our burdens have been those of excess with its own unique travails.

Every Saturday my mom would punch out two large aluminum dishpans full of dough – enough for several loaves of bread, a large pan of buns, caramel rolls, and frequently fried bread dough drenched with butter and Karo Dark Corn Syrup. Our associations with bread are the smells of such days, and such afternoon delights of fresh hot buns melting peanut butter into our mouths.

But through the centuries, bread has meant something else – the very difference between life and death.

I recently completed reading the U.S. Grant trilogy by Lloyd Lewis and Bruce Catton and took note of the many references made to cutting off enemy supply lines, and how important it was for the vast Union Armies to assure that they had a way to get food. The second book Grant Moves South gives this account of men who were hungry for bread when they at last surrounded Confederate fortifications at Vicksburg, settling in for the siege that would break the back of the rebellion.

They had been living off the land, and for several days rations had been skimpy and uneven and many soldiers had been on a straight diet of meat. Now they were in contact with the Union Supply line where transports could bring rations down to the Yazoo landings. As Grant rode along one private soldier uttered the word “Hardtack.” Other soldiers looked up, recognized the general “and took up the call; soon everyone in the vicinity was yelling ‘Hardtack! Hardtack!’ at the top of their lungs … the Army of the Tennessee, saluting its general at the supreme moment of his greatest campaign.”

And in the end, that supply line was able to starve Rebel forces out of Vicksburg, divide the Confederacy in half, and take 30,000 Rebel soldiers out of action for the remainder of the war. Grant, who had served in supply during the Mexican, knew the importance of bread as a weapon.

The Hebrew people knew hunger. Their collective memory, their literature, reminded them constantly of the depravations of exile. Food was a weapon. Food was power. If the Messiah could provide food, they could use more of their energy against Roman occupation.

Could this Jesus, this miracle worker, be the restoration of Israel’s greatness?

Food can be a powerful weapon; some make the claim that America has used food in such a way to dominate. Some make the claim that we, as Christians, have misused our plenty, offering food to coerce conversion, as far away as foreign missions and as close as the nearest soup kitchen – proselytizing with bread.

What is Lent, if not to remind us that Jesus, in effect, says, “I will not be used in such a way. You don’t know who I am!”

32Jesus said to them, "I tell you the truth, it is not Moses who has given you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. 33For the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world."
34"Sir," they said, "from now on give us this bread."

35Then Jesus declared, "I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty. 36But as I told you, you have seen me and still you do not believe. 37All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never drive away. 38For I have come down from heaven not to do my will but to do the will of him who sent me. 39And this is the will of him who sent me, that I shall lose none of all that he has given me, but raise them up at the last day. 40For my Father's will is that everyone who looks to the Son and believes in him shall have eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day."

What is Lent if not to remind us that “Jesus himself is God’s gift of sustenance for time and eternity”?

I am reminded of another instance in Sacred Scripture when bread plays a prominent role. Matthew 4:3-4, during the description of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness, says, “And the tempter came to him and said, “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.”

“But he answered, ‘Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’” (Deut. 8:3)

I can’t read that passage without asking the question, “How many words is that?”
Every word! Our life, or physical death, our eternal state is dependent solely on God, the God who became one of us, lived a life like ours, suffered and bled and died taking our sins upon Himself, giving us faith and declaring us holy because of that faith, and teaching us, step by step, what that holiness looks like when we step into his light, when we do the work of God which is to believe – and that with the faith He has given to us.

What is Lent but to remind us of who Jesus is and what he has done for us, so that on that morning when we affirm that “He is risen indeed” our resolve will be more toward heaven than it was a year ago and less toward heaven than it will be a year from now. The Bread of Life sustains, and more so, it promises unlimited, eternal prosperity.

May God add His blessing to those who hear and receive His word. Amen.

Delivered to ecumenical Ash Wednesday service at St. John's Lutheran Chruch, Jamestown, and the following Sunday, February 21, at Calvary Baptist, Carrington. This is the later version with NIV rather than NRSV text.

Of Fun and Games

I'm not good at fun. At Camp Good News, I have to subcontract that out to qualified indifiduals. That's why Kristi, new to the committee, is in charge of that aspect.

Just tonight we visited about get-acquainted games for Sunday night. She started talking about something they would do with their shoes, throwing one in a corner pile and then trying to get it all straightened out. "Way over my head," I said. She also mentioned something about a nice magazine, from Disney I think, that's just full of good ideas, a magazine she takes and supposed with which I might be familiar.

I told her I had just bought a copy of Calvin's "Institutes."

I have. That part is true. It, too, for this and perhaps all moments, is a long, long reach beyond my capabilities, but somehow allies more my aptitude. I do best in Child Evangelism Fellowship when I stick to their script. I do find myself taking like an Arminian at times, only because I know children and so many adults can go no farther.

Or can they? It is clear most of those who respond to an invitation come from good, Christian homes -- or evangelical churches at least. This week in club ministry I can't help but notice how little interest the others apply to the message. The fun and games, they love, but children with no apparent spiritual bent seem just as impervious to the Gospel message as any godless adult.

Camps that put much emphasis on fun and games do attract a lot more kids. Long rolls are one sure way of measuring success. And the Gospel is preached. And those that will respond will respond. That much we know. While a jet-ski doesn't aid this, I suppose it doesn't no harm either -- any more than our games of tag.

Someone might suggest the jet-ski improves the odds of winning a soul, since it attracts more souls to camp. This seems an attractive notion, until you follow it to the logical conclusion that, in such case, we would win far more souls by paying children to come to camp, rather than charging a fee, in effect, buying salvations from the children!

Odds. Funny to speak of odds in the soul-winning business. What has God ever left to chance -- if there were such thing! Chance that is, not God. Just so we're clear on that.

On taking no thought ...

Paul, in what may have been his last letter, says at the end of 2 Timothy (vv. 16-18), "At my first defense, no one came to my support, but everyone deserted me. May it not be held against them. But the Lord stood at my side and gave me strength, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed ... The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and will bring me safely to his heavenly kingdom. To him be glory for ever and ever. Amen."

That's really all we're promised, isn't it — Heaven. Take no thought for tomorrow, Jesus said. And yet we do. I can't, by fretting over the lack of teen missionaries, improve tomorrow any more than I can worry myself a foot taller.

Yet, with the deadline rapidly approaching, and no applications in, it is difficult to plan the summer. So much depends on recruiting and retaining teens.

I did get an encouraging email from a Trinity Bible College student who is very interested, but she also needs to find a summer job. CYIA pays pretty well for a high school freshman, but when real money is needed, it doesn't look all that attractive -- and then you have to raise your own missionary support, so it is hard.

Sometimes I wonder if we might even be better off without any CYIA. If we skipped training camp, that would give Lori and I another week to teach clubs. I think, if we pushed hard, we could do 20 clubs without CYIA -- four more than we managed last year with two CYIA. I am tempted to send them back, like Paul once did with Mark.

But in the end, Paul was asking for Mark once again (ibid v. 11b), "Get Mark, and bring him with you because he is helpful to me in my ministry." I wonder if Mark did return. We'll know someday, and that day is ultimately all we really need for all our hopes. Lord help me to say this with greater conviction.

To him be glory forever.

Yours in His service,

JG

Late at night in Southeast North Dakota Chapter

Computer time is far too much. Must work earlier or not at all. The Fair One is anxious and lonely. Always the way in the last few weeks of teaching. Like Carl Jung, I think, ultimately you just throw up your hands and cry, "What do they want!"


Want, one supposes, just like the rest of our human race -- what we should not desire -- anything other than God. I wrote a letter today to a prospective summer missionary, encouraging her to do likewise -- to pray so that her will might be bent towards His.

A dose of my own advice, however sage it may seem, is in order. Upstairs to eat crow, I guess. Upstairs, a daunting climb for the half-penitent soul.

Yours in His Service,

JG