St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Wesley Chapel, FL
Preacher: The Rev. Adrienne R. Hymes, Vicar
Year B/Proper 16: Ephesians 6:10-20; John 6:56-69
August 22, 2021
Jesus said, “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them…whoever eats of me will live because of me” (vv. 56-58). For several weeks John’s gospel has focused on Jesus’ teaching about his identity and his life’s purpose. Our passage today focuses on the hearers’ reactions. Described as disciples, the Jews, who were being taught by Jesus in the synagogue about the true food and eternal life, were offended. They could not intellectually grasp what Jesus was teaching, as they continued to wonder, “How can this man give us flesh to eat?” (v. 52)
Jesus repeatedly described the importance and necessity of his flesh, as the only bread that gives eternal life. His flesh, then, is necessary and purposeful. In verse 63, however, Jesus made a statement that might seem contradictory: “It is the spirit that gives life; the flesh is useless.”
In an effort to unpack that statement, I am drawn to the prologue of John’s gospel, when “…The Word became flesh and lived among us…” (Jn 1: 14). The Greek word, logos, means “word,” “reason” or “plan.” So, God’s divine reason or God’s divine plan became flesh in the person of Jesus. Why would Jesus say that the flesh is useless, when it was his human body which made God’s self-revelation to humankind possible?
Jesus’ teachings were about bringing people to belief in him so that the spirit, within the human body, could be restored to God. The soul that feeds on the living bread has eternal life long after the human body is no more. Without belief in Jesus, setting one’s mind on the heavenly things, and accessing them, is impossible. Through the lens of our faith, consider that the flesh is both useless in the heavenly realm, since it is the Spirit that gives life, and we are but dust—AND the flesh is necessary and purposeful for cultivating belief in Christ in the earthly realm.
Jesus’ nativity necessarily required a body. On Christmas Eve, we celebrate human flesh as the necessary and purposeful vehicle by which the invisible God became visible in the newborn Jesus. Jesus’ crucifixion necessarily required a body. Without eyewitnesses to the crucifixion of Jesus, and his bodily resurrection, we would not know about Jesus’ precious sacrifice for the salvation of humankind, and the good news would be no news at all.
The Jews in the synagogue, who had been following Jesus, complained that his teaching was too difficult and responded by rejecting his message. Many left and stopped following him. Their human understanding trapped them in the literal understanding of “eating flesh,” rendering them incapable of accepting Jesus’ spiritual truth. Though some disciples left, Peter and Jesus’ inner-circle disciples, remained with him and affirmed that they had come to, believe and know that Jesus had the words of eternal life and that he was the Holy One of God” (v. 69).
This encounter with Jesus and this mix of disciples illustrates what 20th century German philosopher, Martin Heidegger, described as the “will to know.” This human willingness to know could only be enacted in what he and Danish philosopher, Soren Kierkegaard, called the “leap.” According to Heidegger, it is only in the human being’s decision to leap from the safety of their understanding of life as they know it, that they rid themselves from the blindness of the ordinary. Without the hearers’ putting their own “skin in the game” by their willingness to know, the leap from ordinary human understanding into belief of the extraordinary, divine truths, is impossible.
Eleventh century doctor of the church, St. Anselm of Canterbury, said, “I do not seek to understand that I may believe, but I believe in order that I may understand.” Faith seeking understanding is committing to putting our own “skin in the game.” As our willingness to know Christ increases, our belief is strengthened, enabling the faithful to leap from the bondage of human understanding into the unbounded freedom of God’s divine truth.
When we pray in the Spirit, at all times, as St. Paul said, we are actively using faith to seek understanding; Christians lean on our faith to make sense of our human experience—the human experience that constantly demands decisions that have spiritual consequences.
For so many, this earthly life of flesh is defined by despair and devoid of hope. Life, itself, is nothing more than the means to the end. But, Christians live with the assurance that this earthly life is not the means to the end, but the means to the beginning—the Source of all life—and that God has indeed purposed our useless flesh to be used at this appointed time in human history, to bring about God’s plan for human salvation.
For the sake of those who do not yet know Christ, the baptized carry the burden of salvation which compels us to boldly show up in the world as Christ incarnate—the body of Christ—the Church. When we proclaim the gospel message and live our baptismal covenant, we participate in helping those, who live apart from Christ, to discover a hunger for his heavenly bread; awaken their soul’s “willingness to know;” and launch their leaps into belief in Him. Proclaiming and embodying the gospel is how the Church uses our useful and purposeful flesh, to equip and prepare ourselves, and new believers, to take up, “…The whole Armor of God in order to withstand, not the terrors of this world, but the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil…” (Eph 6:11-12). Jesus’ indwelling in the fleshly bodies that make up the Church, each one of you, is how this world experiences and witnesses God’s Word made Flesh.
I don’t usually keep cash on me, but when I do, I usually see someone who could use it more than I. Recently I saw a sign on the side of the road that said, “Hungry. Anything helps,” but I didn’t see the person with the sign. When I drove back around, I saw the gentleman and gave him all the cash I had with a bottle of water. He shared some of his story with me and left with “God bless you,” to which I responded, “God bless you.” As he limped over to his spot, he looked up to the sky. Just before my window closed, I heard him say, “Thank you Jesus.”
As we build up God’s kingdom here on earth, do not forget that you embody the compassionate Jesus who is present with God’s people to feed, teach, comfort and heal—the Jesus who is love incarnate, visible through your human skin. May we, with thankful hearts, remember that God so loved the World that “For us and for our salvation he came down from heaven: by the power of the Holy Spirit he became incarnate (in the flesh) from the Virgin Mary, and was made man.” Thank you Jesus!
