Food, glorious food!
John 6:24-35

Lord God, take my words and speak through them, take our minds and think through them, take our hearts and set them on fire with love for you, you who are Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Our beautiful world
Many people will be taking a holiday over the coming weeks, or will have recently taken one. Sadly, with the current economic climate, many who would like to get away will be staying at home this year. One of the advantages of holidays, is that you have more time to look around you, something that even those not going away will hopefully have time for too.

Look around, and enjoy the beautiful scenery our world has to offer. And, yes, I do include this part of the world in that too. But perhaps I’m just lucky, because I really love to look at the big skies and flat landscapes that can be seen in a drive through the quiet roads criss-crossing the Fens.

It’s something to be marvelled at, that this God of love not only creates a functional world to abundantly support human life, but also makes that world incredibly beautiful. It’s as though God has created a vast playground for his children, for them to enjoy themselves. Sometimes that wonderful playground has been enhanced by human beings; at other times, it has been nearly ruined by them. But when God and humans work together in this world, the results are stunning.

Enjoying food
Food is something else we can enjoy more when we have extra time. When we go away, we’ll try different dishes to our normal fare. And even when we stay at home, when Liz isn’t working, we usually change our eating habits, and take more time to really enjoy the food we eat.

Like the world God has created for us, food isn’t simply functional. It is, of course, essential for life, but it can also give immense pleasure. And more than that, eating is a very sociable activity. Many people, when they’re celebrating or when they simply want to meet up together, go out for a meal. The finest meal in the best hotel doesn’t amount to much if it’s eaten alone in a hotel room.

More than functional
So food is much more than something functional which we take merely to keep us alive. It’s also something which binds us together, something which we share as human beings, something which can give enormous pleasure and which tells us we belong.

One of the favourite Biblical images of life after death is that of a great feast, a banquet. Jesus told a story about a banquet given by God where the table groans under the weight of good food, and glasses overflow with good wine. But it isn’t a meal taken in isolation, in a hotel room or at a table for one. The image is of a long table, with plenty of people thoroughly enjoying themselves and the food and thoroughly enjoying the social interactivity with each other. And it’s open to anyone who chooses to drop in, because those for whom it was originally intended didn’t want to eat that way.

Today’s gospel reading
In today’s gospel reading, when the people came yet again searching for Jesus, he was well aware they were looking for more miracles — our reading comes just after the feeding of the five thousand in John’s Gospel. “Very truly,” Jesus said, “I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves” (John 6:26). They were a people who relied on the harvest and who knew what it was to suffer from drought and therefore to go hungry, so they were unable to get past the fact that Jesus had actually produced for them food out of very little. They could only see the miracle and failed to see beyond that. They were unable to see any sign pointing them to God. All they wanted was more food, more bread, more miracles.

Jesus sighs over their lack of insight, their failure to go beyond the superficial, but he starts from where they are. They were dumbfounded by his miraculous abilities, especially the ability to produce food in a country which was relatively poor and where food was precious.

Jesus starts again from that point, building on the little awareness they have and pushing them always towards a deeper knowledge of God, the provider of all.

He goes on to say, “Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life” (John 6:27), and they begin to get the idea that God might provide for them in a hitherto unsuspected way. Perhaps there’s a way in which they can have all this bread for themselves, when Jesus isn’t around. So they say to Jesus, “What must we do to perform the works of God?” (John 6:28) But the answer is unexpected.

We only have to believe
They don’t have to do anything! God’s gift of bread which never fails, which is always there, which lasts forever, is waiting for them. They only have to believe in Jesus. They don’t have to change. They don’t have to repent. They only have to believe. Although it has to be said that when people believe, repentance begins to happen and change begins to occur. But that’s in God’s hands, not something which the people need to initiate. And it’s not the starting point. The starting point is belief.

And this is still the same today. In order to receive abundant gifts from the hands of God, we don’t have to do anything. The only requirement is that we believe in Jesus. But real belief in Jesus isn’t just a form of words which slip easily off the tongue, it’s life-changing.

Jesus is the Bread of Life
It’s a belief that Jesus really is the Bread of Life, rather than a luxury trifle at the end of the meal. We can enjoy a luxury trifle when we feel like it, but we need bread every day. Bread gives us what we need to stay alive, and if we skip it we grow thin and emaciated and lose our energy.

But when Jesus describes himself as the Bread of Life, perhaps he’s also suggesting that there’s a strong communal aspect to Christianity. Although food can be enjoyed alone, and can certainly keep us alive if we eat it on our own, it loses huge dimensions of enjoyment that way, and becomes simply staple food. To really enjoy the benefit of the Bread of Life, we need to consume it together. We need to share our experiences, our worship, our Christianity.

After all, bread comes in many different shapes and sizes, made of different kinds of flour, and with or without yeast. There is bread to suit everybody, no matter what their tastes and what their dietary requirements, so we can all eat together.

Alright for us
That’s all very well for us in the West, who never really experience real hunger. But what about those in the East, who live at subsistence level? When they pray, “Give us this day our daily bread,” and believe in Jesus as the Bread of Life, does it mean they’ll never be physically hungry again?

Perhaps it ought to, if we were properly stewarding the world’s resources God has given us. But until that time, maybe belief in Jesus as the Bread of Life, gives physically starving people the inner resources to cope with their subsistence lives. Maybe Christians in poor countries are spiritually well-fed and don’t know what it is to starve.

Let’s hope we Christians in the West aren’t suffering from a spiritual anorexia, because we’re trying to exist on a luxury trifle.

Amen

The Beggar and the Bread

A beggar came and sat before me. “I want bread,” he said.

“How wise you are,” I assured him. “Bread is what you need. And you have come to the right bakery.” So I pulled my cookbook down from my shelf and began to tell him all I knew about bread.

I spoke of flour and wheat, of grain and barley. My knowledge impressed even me as I cited the measurements and recipe. When I looked up, I was surprised to see he wasn’t smiling. “I just want bread,” he said.

“How wise you are.” I applauded his choice. “Follow me, and I’ll show you our bakery.” Down the hallowed halls I guided him, pausing to point out the rooms where the dough is prepared and the ovens where the bread is baked.

“No one has such facilities. We have bread for every need. But here is the best part,” I proclaimed as I pushed open two swinging doors. “This is our room of inspiration.” I knew he was moved as we stepped into the auditorium full of stained-glass windows.

The beggar didn’t speak. I understood his silence. With my arm around his shoulder, I whispered, “It overwhelms me as well.” I then leaped to the podium and struck my favorite pose behind the lectern.

“People come from miles to hear me speak. Once a week, my workers gather, and I read to them the recipe from the cookbook of life.”

By now the beggar had taken a seat on the front row. I knew what he wanted. “Would you like to hear me?”

“No,” he said, “but I would like some bread.”

“How wise you are,” I replied. And I led him to the front door of the bakery.

“What I have to say next is very important,” I told him as we stood outside.

“Up and down this street you will find many bakeries. But take heed; they dont serve the true bread. I know of one who adds two spoons of salt rather than one. I know of another whose oven is three degrees too hot. They may call it bread,” I warned, “but it’s not according to the book.”

The beggar turned and began walking away. “Don’t you want bread?” I asked him.

He stopped, looked back at me, and shrugged, “I guess I lost my appetite.”

I shook my head and returned to my office. “What a shame,” I said to myself. “The world just isn’t hungry for true bread anymore.”