Sermon for the Tenth Sunday after Pentecost, Year B, "Picnic and a Boat Ride," John 6:1-21 (Proper 12B, Ordinary 17B)

Sermon 7/28/24

John 6:1-21

Picnic and a Boat Ride

Our gospel lesson today is a text that’s probably familiar to most of you, at least somewhat. And it is one of the rare events that appear in all four gospels outside of Jesus’s death and resurrection. So we get the sense that this story is important. Of course, each gospel writer gives it their own spin, and John, whose gospel is the most different from the other three, also has the most variations in his account of this event. So let’s make sure we read carefully. 

Jesus has been teaching and healing. He crosses the Sea of Galilee with his disciples, and the crowds follow him, because of the healing work he’s been doing - they see it as a sign from God, and also, of course - they want to be healed! When Jesus sees the crowds coming, he turns to Philip, one of the Twelve, and asks, “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?” In other gospels, it is the disciples who raise this question. But John says that Jesus poses this question in order to test Philip, because Jesus already has a plan of action. 

Philip and the other disciples seem a bit overwhelmed by Jesus’ question. Philip notes that even a large sum of money wouldn’t feed such a huge crowd - and Jesus and the disciples evidently don’t have a large sum of money. Andrew has noticed a boy with five loaves of bread and two fish, but what could that amount of food - plenty for a few - do for a crowd of 5000 people? But Jesus simply has them all sit down, and then he gives thanks over the food, and starts passing it out. Everyone somehow eats all that they want, and now there is even food left over. The leftovers gathered, and there are now 12 baskets of leftover food where there was once only 5 loaves and 2 fish. A miracle. 

When the people see the miracle, they call Jesus a prophet, and they want to force Jesus to be their king. They want him to be their leader, their ruler. This isn’t what Jesus is about, though, not in the way they want. And so he withdraws from the crowds on his own. The next verse I’ve never really noticed before, but it caught my eye this time thanks to a commentary by Alicia D. Meyers that I was reading. We read, ‘When evening came, his disciples went down to the sea, got into a boat, and started across the sea to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them.” The disciples just…leave. I’m not sure where they were going. Maybe they had plans already, and knew Jesus would meet up with them. But they don’t go looking for Jesus, as far as we’re told, anyway. They don’t ask him what they should do next. They don’t check in. They just get back on the boat and leave town. 

And then the sea becomes rough and a strong wind is blowing over the water. It’s a dark and stormy night - but suddenly they see Jesus, walking along on the water, coming to them in the boat. They’re terrified. We’re not sure why; they’ve seen Jesus do miracles, after all. But maybe walking on water was just a next-level kind of thing. But Jesus says to them something he says many times, particularly in John’s gospel: “Do not be afraid.” And then suddenly, they’ve reached their destination safely. 

It can be interesting to use this text to consider what we think about miracles, particularly the supernatural kind, the bend-the-laws-of-the-universe kind. Did Jesus miraculously make the food multiply? Or did something else happen? Did Jesus really walk on water? How? Why don’t we see miracles like that today? Or were they reserved for Jesus, never to be repeated? But although these questions can make for an interesting conversation (or sermon), I want to push us in a somewhat different direction today. I think we learn in this passage both something about what we might expect (or not expect) from Jesus, and what Jesus expects from us. 

That’s right: Jesus has some expectations for us, his disciples. In our text, John tells us that Jesus wanted to test the disciples, and see what solutions they would come up with to address the hungry crowds, even though he already knew what he planned to do. How do we feel about that - the idea of Jesus testing us? The other gospel authors don’t mention anything like this, and this idea of the disciples being tested is more consistent with John’s style of writing and his understanding of how Jesus was at work in the world. But still, it’s here for us to wrestle with. I will admit that the idea of God testing us doesn’t really jive with my theology most of the time. It makes God seem too manipulative to me, like we’re being set up, guinea pigs in some divine experiment. I don’t think God is like that. 

But I have to remind myself, and maybe you do too, not to conflate “test” with “trick” or “trap.” Sometimes tests can be designed to be tricks or traps, but they aren’t necessarily the same. Sometimes being tested is a good thing, a necessary thing. We use tests all the time, so that we can assess what people know and what they don’t and whether they’re ready for the next thing. Right now, believe it or not, my nephew Sam is 17 years old, and he’s just about ready to take his road test for his driver’s license. We have to test young drivers to see if they’re ready to be on the road by themselves, for their safety and the safety of other drivers. A road test isn’t a trap or a trick. It’s an assessment. Sometimes a test reveals areas where we’re not prepared. Even failing a test isn’t always the worst thing that can happen. I think of my best friend in high school - it took her three failed road tests before she finally got her license. Now she’s an adult and a mother and a nurse and a more grounded and careful person than she was at 16. She failed a test - and it helped her mature as a driver and a person, and now I feel very safe being her passenger! We might know some things very well, but a test might reveal that we’ve overlooked a particular topic or have an area of misunderstanding. It might reveal that we’ve made progress, but we’re not ready yet to move on to the next thing. Tests can be hard. They can give us some anxiety. But they don’t have to be tricks or traps. 

So when I read here that Jesus is testing the disciples, I ask myself what he was looking for in his disciples. I think he wondered what they had learned so far in their time with him, as they’d accompanied him in his teaching and preaching and healing. And I think he wondered what they were ready for. How far would they follow him? How would they be as leaders themselves? Well: neither the crowds nor the disciples make a good showing, I’m afraid. Because the crowds are too focused on what they want from Jesus: signs and magic and a king. And the disciples are busy fleeing to the other side of the sea without Jesus. A consistent theme in John, and in John 6 in particular, is that the crowds want to know what Jesus can do for them tangibly: they want food, they want physical healing, and they want him to be a king, maybe one who can overthrow the oppressive Roman government. I sympathize with their longings - who wouldn’t want someone to lead who could do those things? Why wouldn’t we want to follow someone who can keep us fed and keep us healthy? But it seems like that’s all they want from Jesus. The crowds seem far less engaged in what Jesus is teaching, less interested in letting their lives be transformed by God. 

And then there’s the disciples, those closest to Jesus. First, even those they’ve already seen Jesus do amazing, unexplainable things, they can’t imagine a solution to his question: “How will we get these people something to eat?” Maybe they’re content to let Jesus figure out the answers. How could they be expected to come up with a solution - they’re not Jesus, after all. Maybe they’re not sure they can trust him yet. Is it all too good to be true? And then, again, when Jesus has withdrawn from the crowds anxious to make him a king, we hear nothing of the disciples. What are they doing? Are they, too, trying to force Jesus into a role? Are they helping manage the crowds? Or standing off to the side, waiting for Jesus to tell them what’s next? I wonder what they’re thinking when they decide, in fact, to leave, to go back across the water to where they came from. Are they ready to ditch Jesus altogether? Are they anxious to be away from the unexplainable events of the day? Just go back to their normal routines? We just know that when Jesus shows up, walking on the water, they’re afraid. Maybe afraid of what this means for them. How can they be good enough to follow Jesus? Yet, how can they do anything but try to keep following? No wonder they’re afraid: awed and dazzled by Jesus, feeling confused, unworthy, incompetent, and yet feeling like what choice do they have but to keep trying to follow him anyway. 

 It’s easy to look at the disciples in the gospels and see all the mistakes they make, and convince ourselves we’d do better. But I think they’re portrayed as they are so that we can take comfort, actually, in knowing that we’re not the first to struggle with fears and doubts in our discipleship. We’re not the first to wonder if we can trust Jesus, and yet also want Jesus to fix all of our problems. We’re not the first to feel incompetent at discipleship, and yet keep coming back to try again. The disciples get it wrong, a lot, and even worse than this. But they keep going. Jesus keeps teaching them. I don’t think they ever feel quite ready. But somehow, they’ve changed our lives, changed the world, millennia later. 

Jesus does test us, I think: checking in on where we are in our discipleship. But I’m reminded of the grades I used to get in elementary school. Not the grades for how well I was performing academically. Instead, there was a whole section on how we were performing socially. Were we learning to be thoughtful, well-adjusted classroom citizens? You couldn’t fail in that section. You could get an “unsatisfactory.” But teachers tended to opt for the more hopeful “needs improving.” Or the encouraging “improving” that might come on the way to “satisfactory” or “excellent.” I think when Jesus tests us, the scale is a little bit more like that. Ready to challenge us where we need improving. But always ready to affirm us, build us up, teach us some more, lead the way, and tell us: Do not be afraid. So, take heart, friends. Jesus wants to know what we’re going to do about the broken-hearted world around us. Probably, we’re going to mess it up. But instead of demanding that Jesus fix it for us, or running away altogether, let’s stay and learn from the teacher, and then practice, practice, until we’re improving, until we’re thriving, until we’re ready for whatever Jesus calls us to next. Amen. 

1. Thanks to Alicia D. Meyers, at The Working Preacher for sparking this line of thought. “Commentary on John 6:1-21.” 

https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-17-2/commentary-on-john-61-21-6

Image: JESUS MAFA. Jesus multiplies the loaves and fish, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=48287 [retrieved July 29, 2024]. Original source: http://www.librairie-emmanuel.fr (contact page: https://www.librairie-emmanuel.fr/contact).

Sermon for the Ninth Sunday after Pentecost, Year B, "Measuring God's Love," Ephesians 3:14-21

 Sermon 7/25/21

Ephesians 3:14-21

Measuring God’s Love

Our scripture lesson for today is from the letter to the church at Ephesus. Some scholars think Paul wrote this letter, and others think it was written latter by a follower of Paul’s in Paul’s name. Who is right on that doesn’t really matter for us today though. What matters is the content of this letter, and what it means for us as disciples today. The author is writing to Christians at Ephesus. The Ephesians are one of a number of new faith communities planted by the apostle Paul and other apostles of Jesus, and many of the communities Paul was connected with were unique because they were made up primarily of Gentiles - that is, folks who weren’t Jewish, and didn’t convert to Judaism upon becoming followers of Jesus. That second part - not converting - was a matter of debate among Paul, Peter, James, and the other early leaders of the church, with Peter and James first believing that following Jesus required being part of the Jewish faith - like Jesus was - and Paul believing that Jesus-followers had freedom from the law in Christ, and therefore didn’t need to be converted - they just needed to be made new in Christ. Eventually Paul and the other leaders sort of agree to disagree and be about ministry in their own ways in their own places. But tensions remain, and there’s a strain for a long time as the early church figures out who it is, how it will be structured, what the rules will be. In the leadup to our text for today, the author is arguing that the Gentiles have become “fellow-heirs” alongside the Jewish community to all of God’s promises. Frequently throughout the epistles, the imagery used is that of adoption - if Israelites are God’s children, then Gentiles are like God’s adopted children. 

Hopefully, you can understand that the image of adoption is meant to convey not some sort of second-class status for Gentile Christians - rather, it is meant to convey the very purposeful extension of the covenant and promises of God to Gentiles because of God’s incredible love and God’s desire to always draw more and more into God’s heart. I’ve been blessed to know several families who have gone through the process of adoption. A pastor friend of mine today is celebrating the baptism of her son, a toddler, who has been with her since infancy, after just finally being able to officially adopt him about a month ago. Every part of the long adoption process has been a labor of love and devotion. And that’s what the author wants the Ephesians to understand - they’re “in,” they’re family, they’re part of the church, they are included in the “boundless riches of Christ,” it’s been God’s plan and hope and passion to have them be part of the body of Christ alongside the Israelites, and they are just as much heirs to God’s promises as anyone else. 

Our author, in fact, gets so worked up about wanting to communicate this all clearly to the Ephesians that by the time we get to our text today, the author is actually kind of interrupting himself with this prayer that focuses on two things: How much God loves them, and how much love they are capable of in return when they are rooted and grounded in Christ. The author prays that readers of this letter would be “strengthened in their inner being” by the Holy Spirit, that Christ may dwell in them, that they would be “rooted and grounded in love.” He prays that the Ephesians might come to understand “what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.” And he concludes with a benediction, calling God one who can “accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine.” After that, the text moves on to chapter 4, and the author returns to a more teaching-style letter. 

So, do we understand how much God loves us? Are we rooted and grounded in Christ, strengthened in our inner beings so that we can live as followers of Jesus? And do we understand that God keeps on adopting and adopting, loving extravagantly and drawing more people into God’s family? One of my favorite decorations in my room at school is from my 6 year old niece Siggy. It’s a long strip of construction paper, measured to the length of Siggy’s outstretched arms, with construction paper cutouts traced from her hands for hands on each end, that is meant to represent a hug from Siggy. And it says, “I love you “this much.”” The point, of course, is that her love for me is as far as she can reach. Big love. I wonder if we get how much God loves us? The author prays that we might get a glimpse of understanding. Sometimes when we talk about the love of God, it becomes kind of trite - we say “God loves you,” but we miss the power behind it, the strength of it, the potentially-life-changing impact of it. 

When have you felt the most simply overwhelmed with how much you are loved? I’ve been thinking a lot this summer about how much my mom demonstrates love for me and others. There are the big things, of course - my mom’s consistent presence in my life, her affirmations, her support of my goals in life. But what I’ve been noticing lately are so many of the little things. For example, she has two kinds of silverware. She loves her silverware with big chunky colorful handles. I once remarked that I preferred the feel of the thinner, plain silver handles. And now, whenever I’m coming home, she’ll get out a couple of sets of the kind I like, just for me, and if she sets the table for me, she uses the silverware I like. I decided to try my vegan cookie stand at the farmer’s market this summer - and every single week, she’s baked cookies with me and been at the stand with me, and rearranged her entire freezer so that I can store things, and bought a special shelf for the guest bedroom for all my ingredients. She does things like this all the time. But - and here’s the astonishing thing - it isn’t just for me, or for her children and grandchildren even that she does these things. She bakes meals for her neighbors and stops by with them. She sends boxes of fall leaves to my great aunt who lives in Arizona and misses the foliage. She takes treats to the office manager at her apartment complex. She brought gifts for the children of the owners of the Chinese restaurant she frequents. I teased her that I think she spends most of her time just sitting around thinking about things she can do to make other people happy. But it’s not really a joke - I think that’s what she does, for real. Because I think what brings her the most joy in life is showering others with love. And when I reflect on her loving nature, I’m overwhelmed. When have you felt the most simply overwhelmed with how much you are loved? 

As loved as I feel by my mother, I imagine that God, who created me and everything I know, God, in whose image I’ve been created, God, who has formed me and knows me - how much must God love me? Not because I’m so wonderful - but because God is “so love”! That’s not trite - it’s overwhelming, to be loved so completely. And it calls for a response. It calls for us to be strengthened, rooted and grounded in this love, so that what God can accomplish in us is more than we can ask and imagine. 

So, when have you felt the most simply overwhelmed with how much you love someone? God wants us to be grounded in Christ, so that we can love like Christ loves. We draw our strength from Christ, so that when it seems like we can’t love the way Jesus loves on our own, we realize we can because of what Christ gives to us. God wants us to love one another like God loves us. God wants us to be like my mother, imagining all the ways we can shower others with love - not just our favorite others - but all of God’s children. And as we’ve discussed, God has a really big family for us to love with lots and lots of siblings for us. That glimpse of God’s love that I get from my mom? God not only loves me that way, but God loves the people of whom I’m not so fond that way too. God loves the folks who drive us crazy, who’ve caused us pain, with the same extravagant love we can barely comprehend, and asks us to do likewise. Sometimes, it seems impossible. But, as the prayer we heard in this letter reminds us, God can do in us what is abundantly far more than we can imagine. 

Friends, I pray just what our author has prayed - that you might start to understand truly, deeply, in your core, how much God loves you, how much God claims you as part of the family, without which the family just wouldn’t be whole. I want you to understand at least a glimpse of how much God hopes and dreams goodness and joy for your life. And then, rooted and grounded in that love, I want you to make it a life priority to make sure others - all the others - understand this too. Because if we can really start to understand the breadth and length and height and depth of the love of Christ for us, of God’s love for us? Confident in that kind of love, what else could we need to change the world? Amen.