Give Us This Bread

            There is something mysterious, and yet very tangible at work in our world-- and in our lives.   It’s a power, or energy if you will.  It flows around us and within us and among us in a kind of two-way street. This unseen energy is a power of attraction reaching out to the emptiness in our human lives..

            That power or energy is invisible and universal. We can't hear it, smell it, taste it, or touch it. We can only feel it—calling to us from God. We can only know it—pushing us toward God-- from the very depths of our beings.  We know it, feel it, in many ways. We call it by many names.

I read about a rabbi who died in England. His obituary told of his life, how when he was a young boy, he and his family were prisoners in a Nazi death camp. In the camp, the prisoners were given just barely enough food to survive - some grain, a bit of stale bread, and a few grams of lard each week. Despite their harsh environment, this boy's family continued to observe the Sabbath. Somehow managing to scrounge up a piece of candle and a little food each week, they said the Sabbath prayers and pronounced the Sabbath blessings.

            One week, however, there was no candle. So, when the evening came and the Sabbath was at hand, the boy's father took some of their precious lard and molded it around a bit of string. Lighting this makeshift candle, he began to lead his family in the prayers and blessings.

            His son was enraged. When the prayers were done, he confronted his father. "How could you do that? How could you waste what little lard we have to make a candle? It's the only food we have."

            His father answered, "Son, without food we can live for several days. Without hope, we cannot live an hour."

            We hunger for hope. We’re looking for a reason to get up and out of bed every morning and get on with the process of living-- because it will be worth it to do so. We yearn to believe that perhaps today, perhaps tomorrow, perhaps even in a day we cannot see— it will have been worth it.  “Without hope, we cannot live an hour."

We hunger for purpose.  We want to understand that there was a reason we were born in this time and place and cosmos. We want to know that there are things that we can accomplish to make this existence rewarding, or just simply a bit better—for ourselves, or those we encounter or those we love, or for what we stand for. We’re want to know that we are accomplishing something in our lives, contributing by being here on this planet.  Without a sense of purpose, how can we go on living, even for an hour?

We hunger for meaning— for the feeling that we are not just here on this planet as a result of blind accident or random chance. We yearn for the certain knowledge that we are  somehow connected to something (or Someone) greater than us, that there is sense and ultimate justice in the Universe. We want to know that we are known and accepted and loved by the One who made us.  Without meaning in our lives, why would we want to live, even an hour?

Hope, meaning, purpose-- we hunger for all those things with an aching in our spirits that can only be healed by the touch of the Divine, that can only be fed by the Living Bread that does not perish.  Bread of hope, bread of meaning, bread of purpose—Bread of Life.

Preachers talk about feeling the presence of God in our lives. But if you think about it, it's really more properly a sense of the absence of God in our lives that burns within our hearts. It's a deep spiritual hunger we cannot assuage that will eventually bring us to our knees before our Maker. It's an emptiness in our lives that we are seeking to fill that brings us to church each Sunday. We seek to fill it with prayer and worship and fellowship. We come to church, to Christ's Table seeking to feed that hunger. Frederick Buechner comments that even the blackness of the preacher’s robe reflects that emptiness.

            The saints have spoken of it as a very real-- almost physical yearning. Augustine was talking about it when he said our hearts are restless until they find their rest in God. Just as the emptiness in our bellies creates a yearning in us for food, so does the emptiness in our lives create a yearning that draws us to the Living Bread.

            In this discourse on the Bread of Life found in John’s Gospel, Jesus uses the physical hunger of the crowd to point to this deeper hunger. Our Lord has begun by reaching out to the crowd on the mundane level of bodily need. He fed that hunger in his listeners. Oddly enough, the crowd seems to take their miraculous feeding as a matter of course. They don't take it as a Sign of His Divinity, as John does telling us the story. It's more along the lines of "good trick, now what's for desert?"

            Maybe that's the real point of the reference to manna during the Exodus --that they were just as dense as their ancestors. The Hebrew children in the wilderness couldn't see the hand of our Maker in the miracle of the manna. Their descendants couldn't see the hand of our Maker at work in Christ Jesus when he fed them.

            Since Jesus has begun ministering on the level of physical food, the crowd no doubt is anticipating that He'll do supper as well as lunch. But instead, He begins to speak of Bread on a deeper level. From the bread that fills an empty belly, Jesus moves to Living Bread that fills an empty soul.

He tells them. The God who fed their ancestors manna so long ago, was the same God who fed them earthly bread the day before. And that same God has planted within them a hunger for heavenly Bread-- the Bread of God's own word, the Bread of truth, the Bread of life, spiritual Bread, the life-giving Logos that nurtures and fills the nagging emptiness with our hearts and souls.

            It's that hunger for Bread, that deep-seated need for hope, that yearning for meaning and purpose in our lives, that restlessness with the way things are, that dissatisfaction with the way we are that draws us to our Maker. That's the root of the power from God that Jesus speaks of. That’s the ultimate drawing invisible power-- our awareness that on our own, you and I are incomplete, broken-- and our instinct that the only way for us to become whole is through deep communion with the One who made us.

            It ought not to surprise us that there are invisible powers in the universe. The very air around us is filled with power. Stop a moment. Listen. What do you hear? Nothing? Yet we all know that with the turn of a knob I could fill this sanctuary with music-- country, folk, rock, reggae, jazz or classical. I could bring us the sound of monks chanting plainsong half a continent away, twenty-five years ago, or a symphony orchestra performing right at this very moment. . Yet we don't marvel at that. We accept as a given fact the mysterious invisible power in the very air around us that we call radio. With the proper  passwords, you and I can bring whole libraries, store inventories, music catalogues, go to meetings in other towns, visit with people in other countries. We accept the invisible power of WIFI and the Internet without question. The power, the vibrations are there. We all agree.

            It doesn't surprise us that there are other, equally strong invisible powers in the universe as well. There is a drawing power in nature that's very clear for those who care to look. Babies are born and they begin to grow. Tree shoots spring up from underground roots and begin to stretch up toward the light of the sun. Plants flower, butterflies flutter by, fish swim, animals roam. Lovers embrace, and the clouds chase each other across the sky even the very planet we stand upon rotates in space. Yet how often do we stop and marvel at the drawing power of nature?

            Physicists and biologists tell us that there is an invisible power within each of us-- and they believe in everything that lives. They can measure an electrical charge that we all carry in our very bodies. They can measure it in every animal, every bird, even plants. It is, they believe, the very energy of life. That unseen but essential life energy is there-- measurable-- just as long as there is life within us-- and not a moment longer—scientists seek to measure that loss of energy at the moment of death.  Is that so difficult for us to believe?

            We accept that there are invisible powers in the universe. So the power of God in Christ Jesus ought not to surprise us. Jesus speaks of that Divine power that draws all men and women to God through Him. John Wesley called it prevenient grace-- the little spark placed in every baby that naturally draws us toward our Maker.

            It is just enough grace to make us just hungry enough for the Divine that we can almost instinctively reach out for it in time of need, and grab hold of the Salvation offered to all people. It is the original blessing that is the antidote to original sin. It is the power, the hunger, the restlessness that can only be met by feeding upon the Living Bread.

            When Jesus tells the crowd that's how it is, that's who He is, they can't believe it. They deny Him.

            "We know him. That's the carpenter's kid. We remember his mother and his father.”

            Jesus doesn't react to their skepticism by defending himself, or counter-attacking.

Rather, He goes on to reveal an even deeper truth. He began by supplying physical bread.  Then he spoke of Bread as the nurturing power of God's Word. Now he identifies Himself with that Bread. He identifies His true origin.

            "I am the Living Bread. God the Great I AM has sent me. God has placed within you a hunger and within me the means to fill you. Feast on the Word of God within me. Feast on what I tell you. Feast on my energy, the drawing power that our Maker has placed within me. Feast on my life and be filled. Feast on me."

            Jesus’ teachings and life and power draw us to Him. And it will draw us to one another, if we allow it. Orthodox, Anglican, Catholics, and Protestants; Whites and people of all different colors; Asians and Europeans; Americans and Russians; LGBTQs and straights; first, second, and third worlds; poor and prosperous-- we need to come together. We desperately need to dialogue and begin to understand the madness of our apart-ness and the infinite possibilities of our togetherness under our Maker.

            We have a long way to go. The conversations must begin. But those of us who have found Christ, have at least the beginnings of a common language.

            There is, we know, an unseen power all around, and among, and within us. We call it the power of the Holy Spirit of God. It is capable of changing the face of the earth.  It is capable of changing us—and making us whole.

The Holy Spirit is a Spirit of Unity. God the Holy Spirit is not particularly interested in divorces-- but the Spirit loves a good wedding. God is continually calling us to unity with one another—just as God is continually calling us to unity with God’s own self.        As you and I move toward unity with our sisters and brothers in this world—we’ll find that we’re moving closer and closer into unity with our Maker and our Maker’s Will.

When you and I move to meet the needs of the needy, rescue the lost, lift up the fallen, heal the broken ones, minister to the lonely and infirm and addicted, we’re not being a good person—we’re becoming disciples-- God’s people—Christians—“little christs”. And we’ll begin to know hope, and purpose, and meaning in our lives.  We’ll begin to find unity within.

 When you and I stand up for racial and economic and social justice with our voices and votes and monetary support, we’re not just doing a good deed—we’re doing God’s Will.  And we’ll find that we’ve begun to feed that spiritual hunger within us. 

When you and I reach out to an estranged neighbor with reconciliation and forgiveness, we’re not just doing the right thing-- we’re responding to the call of the Holy Spirit for unity in the world.  And we’ll find we’re actively participating in the Divine Plan.     When you and I take a foster child into our home, or become a Big Brother or Big Sister, or even just teach Sunday school, we’re not just being good Christians-- we’re feeding Christ’s sheep with the Bread of Life. And we’ll find ourselves in deeper communion with Him.

            When you and I commit our lives and hearts to Christ Jesus, we’re not just buying our way into the after-life – we’re fulfilling our deepest potential as God’s children. And we’ll find that we’ve discovered at last the real reason we were placed on this planet and we’ve begun to fulfill it-- by becoming those whom our God always wanted and designed us  to be

            Jesus revealed it to us. That’s the nature of that unseen power within Him-- and the hunger for it within us.  It is the drawing power of our ultimate origins. Our Eternal Parent calls us home. It is the home from which we all came, and the home to which we shall one day all return.

            You and I are surrounded by that drawing power. It is within us, and among us, and flows through us. It explains the feeling we sometimes get that we're missing something ultimately important, that the colors we see are not necessarily all the colors there are, that the sounds we hear are not necessarily all the music there is.

 It explains our deep feelings at times that this world is indeed, not our home—nor is it our ultimate end. It explains our uneasiness with the way things are, with the way we are. It explains our undefeatable willingness to hope.  It explains our unquenchable hunger and thirst for justice, and our unrelenting desire for existence to make sense.   

            We feel it in our hunger for unity with God, and with one another. We feel it in our conviction that the love of God we encounter in Christ Jesus is but a foretaste of the eternal love yet to come when the Divine drawing power will have finally brought together all of the family of humanity-- celebrating in that eternal Shalom of Christ, nurtured by the Bread of Heaven and forged by His blood, by human tears and sweat, and by the transforming, drawing power of the Spirit.

            Jesus is that Bread. His Altar—His Table awaits.  Jesus calls us, draws us to His service, to His love. Let us begin. Let us invite the Spirit into our hearts. Let us begin to allow ourselves to become all that we are and all that we can become. Amen.