What was Jesus thinking?  He could have had the coolest, most happening church in town!  Why was he acting like that? 

Jesus started off this extended Bread of Life teaching, with the Feeding of 1,000’s, compassionately providing for the needs of all those people at the end of the day before dismissing them to go home.  And now, 5 Sunday’s later, he’s told them so many hard and difficult teachings, so many revealing truths, that he’s whittled his mega-church down to just 12, the twelve disciples!  What was he thinking?! 

“Those who eat my flesh,” he said, “and drink my blood, abide in me, and I in them.”  Lord Jesus!  Can’t you just tell a few nice pastoral stories about finding lost sheep?  Maybe give us a blessing, like, blessed are the poor, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness?!  Instead, Jesus tells the truth, the prophetic truth about who God is, and what God’s up to in the world.  His word, is his weapon.  He overcomes violence and ignorance, without sword or deceit.  He isn’t in it to make nice, to go-along-to-get-a-long, or to have fame, or even a bigger church. 

“…eat my flesh and drink my blood…”  “When many of his followers heard it, they said, ‘This teaching is difficult; who can accept it’?”

I have to tell you, when I was a pre-teen growing up, I had a problem swallowing certain foods.  Promise you won’t laugh if I tell you.  But I hated liver!  The thought of it made me nauseous!  Beef liver especially, which was a regular meal at our house.  And, having an iron deficiency at that age, sometimes my mom went out of her way to make liver, just for me.  Some people think it’s a rare delicacy, my mother told me.  And, there was one recipe, with a redeeming quality – Liver with Bacon on top.  I mean, who doesn’t like bacon?  But, what to do with that liver?  I actually grew to like poultry liver as I got older, and at Thanksgiving time I used to eat it with my mother-in-law.  She was delighted to share with me, as ‘her daughter’ wouldn’t come near the stuff!  My mother-in-law boiled it up just to use the broth in the turkey gravy, and so we’d pluck the liver giblets out of the pan together, and chew with satisfaction. 

But beef liver… eww, I can still smell the distasteful stuff, if I take, even just a moment, to conger it up… never could get used to that!  So what I did – and, you might want to cover your kid’s ears at this point – I was pretty young, mind you, but I fooled my parents for a long time.  I chewed it loudly, like I was really enjoying it, but didn’t swallow.  Chewed it just enough to be able to kind of store it in my cud, in the back of my jaw, and then, bidding my time till supper was ended, I’d make a bee-line for the bathroom, spit it out, and flush it down.  I was terrible, right!? 

When Jesus repeatedly said, “… eat my flesh and drink my blood,” the word he used for eat was specific in the original bible language, not the same word normally used for how we eat, but he used the term for how animals ate, the kind of eating a cow would do, loudly, like chewing your cud, which made it all the  more offensive, and which ‘helped,’ no doubt, ‘contributed,’ to driving away his congregation! 

So, eating his flesh and drinking his blood is more than just a reference to holy communion, as we talked about last week.  Surely it is that: Jesus offered himself in the bread and wine again, at the Last Supper, as a final and more complete reminder of the Eucharistic meal we still share and celebrate.  But the offense of the loud sloppy chewing is also his way of lifting up, and pointing out, the truth about the world we live in.  Because God has sent me, and I live because of God, said Jesus, so whoever eats me will live because of me.  Eat me, says Jesus, don’t eat up the world you live in!  Don’t be fooled by the institutions and thinking of this world, that chew up and devour human flesh, people, and then, let them be flushed away. 

A friend told me about a spiritual exercise she’d participated in, in which everyone was invited to picture what it looked like to follow Jesus – Jesus the truth teller, the one who doesn’t seek a mega-church congregation, but brings the prophetic word of God into our lives, the bread of life that came down from heaven.  And the picture was, following Jesus until he abruptly walks off the side of a cliff – the hard truth about his self-sacrificial, giving of his life, for the world.  And who wants to follow in those footsteps?!  Really, what was Jesus thinking, telling the truth about a world where the justice of heaven might take hold, that the meek might inherit the earth and all may be feed with the bread of life?  Eat me, follow me, and let go of the powers that continue to chew up and devour people and spit them out!  Does this offend you, Jesus asked them?  But he offers no apology.  Why didn’t he back off and offer some nice luke-warm half-truths to keep the 5,000 on board – eat crow if you have to, do what it takes!? 

What does it mean to you, to follow Jesus?  What brought you here?  What keeps you going, keeps you coming back?  What feeds you here, to send you out, to live as a person of God, for the sake of the world?  How does it all fit together and feel right for you? 

For me, as you know, it’s about eating good food, and, keeping it down!  Good food taste-wise, good food quality-wise, good food justice-wise.  For, as we know how the world’s population, now 7 billion, continues to grow exponentially, feeding everyone, is an ever growing concern.  The US has led the way in technological production, quantity-wise, supporting a mega-corporate model, but, at a high cost, and at the expense of depleting the richest top soil, practically in the whole world, and risking public health with chemical fertilizers, mono-crops, and genetic engineering, that are increasing the odds of food chain collapse, and which always affects people of color, and the poor in general, disproportionately hard.  Jesus told that truth too. 

Good food to me, means, food that is truly sustainable in every way: it must be environmentally sound, economically viable, and socially equitable.  Socially equitable is especially a concern in our global economy.  From as far away as the Middle East where the discrimination of the Dividing Wall on the occupied West Bank, keeps Palestinian fruit and vegetable farmers from their land, and they are held up at military check-points, while their crops rot in their trucks, to the undocumented workers American companies hire to do the hard labor of bringing in our grapes, avocados and crops of all kinds, who are at the whim of often scrupulous employers whether they will be compensated fairly for the work they do – it is hard to swallow the food we buy in our supermarkets, and keep it down, when injustice is rampant.  I don’t know about you, but for me it’s about as palatable as beef liver!

Jesus could not abide the kingdoms of this world that do not reflect the justice of the realm of God.  As the bread that came down from heaven, Jesus told the bold and honest truth about eating good food and keeping it down, food that gives life to the world, equitable to all people – and, that didn’t sit well with some.  Eat me, and live, he said. 

Food tastes better when shared with friends around the table of grace, the table where everyone is welcome, and all are filled with the bread of life, come down from heaven. 

What does it mean for you to follow Jesus?  What does that look like?  What are truth tellers, like Jesus, thinking?!  Is he palatable in our world today?  Can the spirit of Jesus live in us, so that in all we do, we reflect the peace and justice of the realm of God?   

I usually don’t sign up for the Rewards Cards, but my first time to Panera Bread I went for it, thinking, what if I do come back, then I’ll want to have the Rewards from this purchase accounted for, right?!  It was a new outlet, in my neighborhood, I should be a supporter, maybe even a regular!  So I went through the rig-a-ma-roll of signing up, negotiating what personal information they really needed, and finally ordering a sandwich, I found it quite tasty and fresh.  

Soon my first Panera Rewards notice arrived in my Inbox.  It was designed as a personal invitation.  Unfortunately, somewhere along the line there was a miscommunication about my name.  The email started out, Hello Frances!  It made me wonder if the person who thought I looked like a Frances, instead of a Fred, was bending my gender and saw me as female, or somehow effeminately gay, which amused and flattered me no end!  Or maybe the person behind the counter who miss-heard my name, simply had a guy-friend called Frances or Fran?  But anyway, the sandwich of the week that Panera was inviting me to, about Fresh Avocados, was even more eye-catching to me: Hello Frances, There's something special about avocados, especially this time of year. They're creamy, buttery, and just perfect for the NEW Roasted Turkey & Avocado BLT.  You can almost taste the sunshine in this creative recipe that showcases the light, fresh and simple goodness of avocados.

Certainly sounded good!  Turkey, chicken and bacon meats, enhancing the creamy, buttery avocados – ummh, fresh, if not truly light! 

Lady Wisdom in our first reading from Proverbs sends out a similar invitation: “she has slaughtered her animals, she has mixed her wine, she has also set her table… her servant-girls… call from the highest places in town… Come, eat of my bread and drink of the wine I have mixed..!”  Later, in a bit of gender bending of his own, Jesus would step into this wisdom tradition and fill Lady Wisdom’s shoes, “Amen, amen, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you… I am the living bread that came down from heaven.” 

So when Panera sent this personal invitation to me, Frances, I didn’t expect that they would have known about, the Summer that Avocado sandwiches Saved me and my friends.  It was after my first year of seminary, where I had heard about Crossroads Africa, a non-church organization started, ironically, by a Pastor.  Its mission was to build cultural bridges between American students and African communities, one at a time, sort of like a mini-Peace Corp.  Originally my group of seven was assigned to Zanzibar, that island paradise off Tanzania, but the project fell through for lack of funding, and we were reassigned to western Kenya.  It was a very rural area and we helped to build a two-room-secondary-school that was just underway as we arrived.  Our village was tiny, and our arrival, being cobbled together at the last minute, had not been well thought through.  The town motel, our accommodations, was a cement-made encampment with about six rooms on each side facing one another in a courtyard, with a big cistern on the far end.  No electricity, no furniture in our rooms.  We slept on the floor, and our water supply for drinking, cooking and bathing was that Cistern full of rain water, which we pretty much drained in that summer of record drought. 

Every morning after breakfast we walked across the field to the building site on the edge of the river and worked hard carrying buckets of water up from the river’s step embankment to mix into concrete and pour into the forms that made the blocks that we would carry to the local project manager who laid them, one row at a time, as the edifice took shape and grew into itself, a big window on each side of the two-room secondary school, that the waiting children of the village, were eager to inhabit. 

At lunch break we dragged our beaten bodies back to our abode.  There were no restaurants in this berg, btw.  Every day we went to the village trading-post, a store right out of Little House on the Prairie, but with a much darker skinned clientele.  And every day, we soon found out, as we bought supplies for lunch, it was the same fare, and rarely changed!  Because of the drought, the shelves were half bare, but somehow they always had two things, avocados and bread.  I had never eaten Avocado in my life, not even Guacamole, but that summer, I learned to love avocado sandwiches!  Perhaps it wasn’t a Panera Roasted Turkey BLT, and avocado sandwich, but as hungry as we were, they tasted like steak sandwich!  Of course, truth be told, by the end of the summer, like a boring room-mate at the end of the semester, I was ready to try a new one! 

When I returned home from Kenya, and my family greeted me, they were shocked!  I hadn’t realize it myself, but slowly and surely, I had lost weight.  Avocado’s are eaten as a vegetarian sandwich in a number of African countries, because of their distinctly high fat content among all vegetables.  But I guess building a two-room secondary school in combination with, avocado sandwich, is still not quite enough to maintain.  I must have lost 10 or 15 pounds, and I guess it showed.  At our Kenyan motel, however, we had no scales to measure, and no mirrors to see! 

And so, it made me appreciate, all the more, the one lavish meal I was served while in Kenya, the day our local friend Robert invited me to his home.  A thatched one-room hut, he sat with me, while his mother brought in a large bowl of rice and beans, but mixed with generous portions of meat.  It was delicious, piping hot, and must have cost them a lot.  Later I learned it was goat meat.  They had killed the fatted goat, for me, the white man guest – given me their finest, to welcome me to their village and thank us for our help.  While the country grew thin, the land parched for a drink, I ate like a king.  No Rewards Card could touch that moment with a ten foot pole!  My aching back, from carrying buckets of water and cement blocks all day, suddenly melted away. 

In the tradition of Lady Wisdom, Jesus offers us the finest of meals, I am the living bread that came down from heaven… whoever eats me will live because of me.  The obvious connection, of course, is with our meal of Holy Communion that the church has eaten every first day of the week since Jesus instituted this meal with the Apostles, at the Last Supper. 

Today, Jesus turns the message of the Bread of Life reading away from the spiritual food he offers to us, toward his flesh and blood, to remind us it is not just other-worldly, but incarnational.  Jesus is the incarnate word, or wisdom of God, came down from heaven to live an embodied life as one of us.  Our faith life is nothing if it does not take on flesh and blood, just as Jesus did.  As God’s own, we are given scales to measure, and mirrors to see.  We can talk about how much we believe in God and Jesus, but if we do not feed the hungry, or clothe the naked, are we really, of God? 

The summer that avocados saved me and my friends, I gave thanks for the avocados of life that came down from heaven to our little village, while, my family and friends back in the states, who worried about me, as they read in the papers about the severe drought in East Africa, gave thanks when they saw my fleshly body return, however slight. 

In Lady Wisdom’s invitation in Proverbs, just as in Jesus who followed in her impressive footprint, there is an urgency to the offer.  The offer is always an invitation to the fullness of the life of God, right here, right now.  Do not waste your time on the things that are not of God!  The bounteous banquet set before us, that costly meal served to us in love, for free, is our life-blood, why would you not turn in here, as Lady Wisdom says?!  Jesus, our complete meal, picks up her call, Come, he says, Come Francis, come all!  Eat of my bread and drink of the wine…!  Come, eat like kings and queens.  In the midst of drought, and malnutrition, and the threat of death, why wouldn’t you put some meat on your bones, and walk in the ways of God, the way of insight and life?!  Jesus, the wisdom-Rewards-Card to end all Rewards Cards, has become for us a self-giving, fleshly, avocado-rich, incarnate meal, of justice and peace, filling us with life, today and always!   

“I am the bread of life.  Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty… and the bread that I will give for the life of the world, is my flesh.”  It seems that, Living deeply into the metaphors of the Christian faith is not for the faint of heart. You need an inspired heart, a flexible mind, and, even a steady stomach, to read the Gospel of John.  (Gail Ramshaw)

When Kim and I got married, it was a very home-made affair.  After 4 years of college followed 4 years of seminary, we were in debt, not yet employed, and couldn’t afford a lavish celebration.  Nor did we ever envision one, really.  We liked the idea of inviting our seminary community, students, staff and faculty, the Saturday before our graduation, to a little pre-party at the seminary Refectory.  The marriage service was home-made too, featuring our class-mates, and recent graduates, in the roles of officiant, organist, bread and cake bakers, table setters, photographers, and wedding party.  After vows were exchanged, there was a home-made parade from Bond Chapel back to the seminary, carrying our green LBW hymnals on the way, marching behind the home-made banner Kim’s sister created for us. 

Originally however, the reception was in doubt!  When I told Jerry, our beloved seminary chief, that I wanted to include raw beef and onions on the menu, he looked so offended, I thought he was going to throw us out!  But, this is a long and cherished tradition in my family, I explained, we can’t be married without it!  Really, raw beef and onions?  Are you serious, people eat that?  How do you keep it from spoiling and making everyone sick, Jerry finally asked, understandably his greatest concern?!  Well, no one ever got sick before, I said, as Jerry rolled his eyes!  Long story short, it was delicious, and, thank goodness, there were no reported cases of gastro-intestinal distress!  Raw beef and onions is a delicacy to some, and an abomination to others.  If you like it, you don’t even notice it sitting there – an obvious affront to vegetarians, and a public health disaster waiting to happen!  You need, an inspired heart, a flexible mind, and especially, a steady stomach, to walk up to that mound of red meat adorned with onion, spread it on rye bread, and casually gulp it down!

In the last days of Kim’s mom’s life, before the fast growing small cell lung cancer did its worst, we called Hospice and asked for their help, as they told us we should.  That very afternoon, a hospital bed was set up in the middle of the living room and Kim’s mom was lovingly positioned there.  Kim’s two brothers soon arrived, joining her sister, Kim and I.  At first, walking into that room was a rude shock.  You can’t miss a hospice bed in the middle of the living room, a sign that death is near – maybe not today, or even tomorrow, but soon.  She was already on a morphine pump, feeling no pain, and in and out of reality.  Silence was the most common greeting Kim’s sibling brought as they walked in, along with nervous laughter, and of course, tears.  But gradually, the view took on normalcy, you forgot the constant hum of the respirator machine in the next room giving her oxygen.  And the nurses were wonderful, appropriately lively or concerned, helpful and ever reassuring.  And so our somber conversations turned to birthday celebrations in the family, and teasing with Kim’s mom about her political tastes, as Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld kept coming on the evening news, cheerfully updating us on the progress of the Iraq war!  

But the real miracle was, it became the first time Kim’s siblings all stood together civil-y in the same room since they were kids.  And from that was sparked an anniversary celebration every year after, which would have made Kim’s mom very pleased!  Over time we came to recognize that while dying was surely happening in the living room, a lot of living was taking place in the dying room.  And we learned to see more clearly, that the signs of life are all around us. (Audrey West) 

The crowds around Jesus have some definite confusion in their ability to see Jesus as the bread of life in the 6th chapter of John.  “Isn’t this the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?”  It seems that, producing a feast from just a few barley loaves and fish is one thing, as long as your stomach is full, but claiming to come down from heaven, to be born from above, is quite another.  They, of course, had not had a chance to read the Prologue to John in the very first chapter, that, “The word became flesh and lived among us.”  It’s sort of like a hospital bed, interjected in the midst of the living room.  The often missed scandal of Jesus offering his flesh to save us, in the very beginning of the story, John’s take on Jesus’ nativity and birth, is now thrown right in our faces!  It is his whole life, Jesus himself, offered for us in love, for the life of the world!  We have since come to call this word made flesh something more palliative – the Incarnation, or a sacramental communion meal, and of course, the bread of life. 

Why don’t you just give us the bread you promised, the crowds say, and we’ll leave you alone!  Their stomachs were filled on the hillside, but now Jesus tells them, they missed the point, just like their ancestors who ate their fill of manna in the wilderness, and who grumbled all the way to their death, never reaching the promised land.  “I am the bread of life… for the world,” says Jesus.

Last week I pointed out how bread, and a lack of it, in 2010, led to the Arab Spring in 2011.  The bread of life, can sometimes be the bread of death when not shared, not respected and cared for.  But that is only half the story, actually less than half.  In this increasingly global world we live in, wheat is in the minority, and it is rice that is the staple crop of over half the world’s population, and 95% of developing nations, of The South.  India the largest producer is followed closely by China and Indonesia.  And, Southeast Asia, the Caribbean, parts of Africa, the Middle East, and Latin American, also live by rice as their staple.  For them, the bread of life would make little sense.  Jesus would have to be the rice of life!  Rice is the elephant, or bed, in our American living rooms!  As Christians in a multi-cultural world, country and city, we can’t afford to look past this sister symbol.  Living deeply into the metaphors of the faith, is not for the faint of heart. You will need an inspired heart, a flexible mind, and a steady stomach.   

Christ is calling us to ever new ventures by the power of the Holy Spirit, on a journey to a new land, nourished at the table of our justice-and-peace-making rice cake of life.  We are transformed by the shocking metaphors of death beds turned life giving, and raw beef turned into lovely wedding fare. 

Already in pre-Columbia Mexico, el Día de los Muertos, or, Day of the Dead, was celebrated at the end of July-beginning of August, which now happens around All Saints Day, Oct 31 to Nov 2.  It was, and still is, a joyful gathering, with parades and costumes anticipating and celebrating the time when the veil of death is so thin that our ancestors and loved ones, come back to visit.  And one of the traditional foods is “bread of the dead,” shared with them,  humorously shaped into skulls and crossbones, and sometimes used in games where the one who discovers toy skulls and crossbones inside, wins a prize.  The Day of the Dead faces up to the cycle of life, the bed in the living room, to remember, re-live, and enjoy, life, even as we recall the death of our loved ones.   

Here, around this table, we are not only deeply grateful for Jesus sacrifice on our knees, but standing and joyfully dining, we are uplifted by the bread, and the rice, of life which brings us together and unites us, our banquet that fills us up with leftover baskets, overflowing.  What was dead is now living!  The flesh that shocks us, the unpalatable death bed in the living room, now brings us together, as we live, for the life of the world.  As we live deeply into the metaphors of our faith, with an inspired heart, a flexible mind, and a steady stomach.  

If you know Jesus, you know God. Yet, ironically, if you know God, you don’t necessarily know Jesus.  You might know Mohammad, or Buddha, or Abraham.  But, here’s the kicker, even if you know Jesus, Mohammad, Buddha or Abraham, still, you may not know God at all. 

Who is God for you?  Where do you find God?  Is God spirit or person?  Belief, lifestyle, or creed?  Hope or chimera? 

One of the few Jesus stories that’s in all four of the gospels – Matthew, Mark, Luke and John – is the feeding of the 5,000.  This story, which Pastor John Roberts preached on last week, is the basis for the next four weeks of gospel readings all from the 6th chapter of John, for a total of five Sunday’s.  That gives us these next four weeks to figure out who Jesus is, as the Bread of Life.  Is this too much time for such a simple theme as bread?  Or, not nearly enough for such a complex aesthetic as life?  How important is it to know the Bread of Life?  If we know the Bread of Life, will we know God? 

My mom is someone who loves good food, bread – sure - but especially desserts.  If you know me, you know I have the same weakness for sweets!  But my mom is so funny – whenever she sits down to dessert, whether home-made or store bought, chocolate or fruity, she always says the same thing, ummhh… this is my favorite! 

And who isn’t a food lover, especially in this city of great restaurants – famous chiefs opening new venues all the time, local favorites that have been around since forever, from hot dogs to foie gras, we have it all!  In our Logan Square neighborhood we have Lula’s, a trendy, hipster-infused hang-out that has a new menu every time you go.  Though, bordering on the pretentious, the things they do with spices and herbs are truly amazing.  From Bread Pudding French Toast, currently on the Brunch menu, with caramel sauce, peach compote, raspberry coulis, whipped sour cream, and pecan praline, to the Dinner menu’s Parsnip Risotto, with marcona almond, wild mushrooms, smoked pecorino, and spring onion dashi, the fussiness in not fake, but actually, out of this world.  Whenever I dine there, I always find myself remarking on the way out that I could die and go to heaven! 

I also like simple, well done, meals.  Nothing is more filling and delicious than the Frugal Gourmet’s Lentil Salad, a great summer meal, which, you’re lucky, I don’t mind saying, if you’ve tasted it when I’ve brought it to pot luck – haha! – it’s just chilled cooked lentils with parsley and scallions, olive oil and lemon juice, and four spices, black pepper and garlic, coriander and cumin.  And yet, a moderate bowl with a slice of your favorite bread, is not only a meatless meal with complete protein value, but always delicious and satisfying.  It’s filling, so that you never feel like snacking in between meals.  

What’s your favorite meal?  What fills you up, or keeps you coming back for more? 

The crowds that go after Jesus, who have just had their fill on the hillside, fed with the Bread of Life, have what is sometimes called, a famished craving.  Like the latest restaurant opening, they are drawn to Jesus for the fabulous meal, but do not see the sign pointing to God.  And so they come back repeatedly for more tasty meals and treats – they’ve eaten, but not been filled or satisfied.  “You’re not looking for me because you saw signs,” Jesus says, “but because you ate your fill of the loaves,” what he calls “the food that perishes.” 

It reminds the crowds of when Moses led them out of slavery into the freedom of the promised land, and how he produced manna for them, along the way, in their 40 years of wandering in the wilderness.  “Moses gave them bread from heaven to eat,” they remind Jesus proudly.  Can he do this?  Is Jesus as good as Moses?  Will he be their king?  But, I wonder?  Did they really eat that well in the desert?  Were they satisfied?  I seem to remember something about complaints, it wasn’t as good as the food the ate in Egypt, in captivity!

Jesus, who invites them to come to him, does not, and will not, indulge their famished craving, their appetites for bland or sugary food, the kind that lifts you up, before it slams you down!  “Amen, amen,” Jesus tells them – let me remind you, “it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven…”  And with that, our taste buds suddenly turn sour, and that comforting place in our brain that tells us the sugar rush is out of this world, is interrupted!  We may even take offense.  What do you mean Moses didn’t give us the manna?!  But, if we are open to the Holy Spirit, if we do not take offense, we may find that Jesus is about to turn us! 

Who gives us our bread today?  How is it made, and who sets the price?  Why do some countries and cultures do better at feeding their people than others? 

Bread is only water, salt and yeast, and of course, wheat.  What can possibly go wrong with this simple recipe?  Of course, there are other ingredients that go into the bread equation we don’t always count, like petroleum, both in production, often by huge combines instead of the many hands of labor as in times past, and in getting the bread to market, sometimes thousands of miles away.  There is also the climate: sun, air, water and soil, which can be affected by drought and flood. 

And so, for example, when in the 12 months leading up to the Arab Spring last year, wheat prices rose drastically due to petroleum speculation and multiple world-wide crop failures, Egypt was hugely affected.  One in five Egytians live on less than $1 a day.  Combine that with the high unemployment for young people, and they were ready to take to Tahrir Square.  When President Mubarak stepped down after 18 days of protests and a 29 year reign, they thought they had died and gone to heaven!

But success turned into famished craving, when some of the protest leaders failed to get on the ballot, and the military conspired to take back control of government  and writing a new Constitution.  Bread was the trigger for all this, on their walk to freedom, but the road to the Bread of Life looks to be a long and winding one! 

And yet Jesus is always about making a way, to turn us!  Bread is important, it’s vital in fact.  But bread alone is not enough to fill us up or keep the peace.  The one who Jesus calls Father, the one who sent him from heaven, from above, who is the creator of us all, the true giver of life, our motherly-father, our parent and progenitor who provides and then frees us, who gives us enough, blesses us, and then says to us, share – this one, this power beyond all knowing, gives manna, the dewy morning meal, to all.  As the Exodus story goes, whoever hoarded the manna, or tried to save some for later, that is, not share it, was not allowed to stay in the company of journeyers, on the way to the promised land.  It is like the punishment of death for Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden for eating the forbidden fruit.  And so we find too that there is death all around us, starving people in our streets, oblivious obese over-fed people in high places, and in a report this weekend, the highest rates of poverty in America since “the war on poverty” was declared 50 years ago.  “Inequality” is too good a name for what we live with today, all because, you might say, we don’t know where our manna comes from, and how to share. 

Jesus, the Bread of Life, points us to this power that is both very near to us, and totally other – our meal and salvation for whom we could die and go to heaven!  Not everyone who claims to know Jesus, however, or Mohammad or Buddha or Abraham, have understood the sign of our times, or the God it points to.  Bread is simple food.  Bread is also as complex as our politics and our diverse ecosystem – it is the staff of life or the sentence of death.  We share the Bread of Life around this table.  It fills our bellies, it satisfies our craving, it points us to the source of life, the living one who empowers us to be the body of Christ in the world.  It is that simple, and that overwhelmingly beyond our knowing.  And even in the face of sometimes large injustices and sinfulness, those who continue to feed at the trough of a famished craving, and refuse to share, we say yes to the Bread of Life, and let it do its work in us.  Jesus continues to invite us to the table of grace.  Jesus turns us and forms us, to love and share, share and love.  “Whoever comes to me will never be hungry,” he says, “and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”