Pentecost 13 B: Looking for God
Dear Partner in Preaching,
Aren’t there moments – maybe many! – when you want to say just what “many of his disciples” said: “This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?”
Once again, it is as easier for me to identify with the crowds who misunderstand and question Jesus than with Jesus himself. Because what Jesus has been saying, and what we have heard these past four weeks, is indeed hard to listen to and hard to understand. That Jesus is the bread of life? That he provides the only food which truly nourishes? That he gives us his own self, even his own flesh and blood, to sustain us on our journey? These are hard words, hard to hear, hard to comprehend, hard to believe.
No wonder then, that many of those following after Jesus now desert him. But at this point we should be careful, as it’s just too easy to write off those who give up on Jesus as people too lazy or unfaithful to believe. But note that St. John calls these folks not simply “the crowds,” as in earlier passages, but rather “disciples.” The people in today’s reading who now desert Jesus, that is, are precisely those who had, in fact, believed in Jesus, those who had followed him and had given up much to do so. But now, finally, after all their waiting and watching and wondering and worrying, they have grown tired, and they can no longer see clearly what it was about Jesus that attracted them to him in the first place, and so they leave.
And who can blame them? More to the point, are we really all that different? I mean, who here has not at one time or another wondered whether you have believed in vain? During the dark of the night, perhaps, watching and praying by the beside of a child or grandchild in the hospital, wondering why he or she is so sick. Or in the early part of the morning, maybe, waking up alone and wondering why your spouse has left you. Or in the latter part of the afternoon, perhaps, while cooking supper and thinking about your family – so full of ill-will toward each other – and wondering why things have not turned out the way you hoped and whether they ever will.
At these times – and my word, but if we’re honest we must admit that there are so many of them in this life that we lead – at these times are looking for God, for some sense that there is a God, and can have such a hard time seeing God that we also are tempted to conclude that the promises we trusted were empty and the faith we once held was misplaced? Oh, perhaps we don’t renounce or desert the Lord openly, we just don’t make the extra effort to get to church regularly, or we reduce what we’ve been giving, are more reluctant to help others, or simply stop praying until, in the end, we end up just like the disciples in today’s reading.
And so I’d wager that the picture St. John draws for us in today’s reading may not a pretty one, but it is a rather realistic one. It is, in other words, a fairly accurate portrait of disbelief, with Jesus surrounded by folks who wanted to believe, who used to believe, who have been trying to believe, but have gone through the motions too long and have finally given up.
At the same time, though, St. John’s picture is also one of belief, of courage, and of faith. For as he writes, after many disciples drew back and no longer followed him, “Jesus said to the twelve, ‘Will you also go away?’ [And] Simon Peter answered him, ‘Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.’”
Where, I have often wondered, do Peter and the other twelve get their faith. Or to put it another way, what makes them different from all those who gave up on Jesus and went away?
Now, in asking this question we must, again, be careful. Because as easy as it was to write off those other disciples as foolish or faithless unbelievers, it is even easier to imagine Peter and the rest as flawless faith giants. And this, as each of the four evangelists point out, was simply not the case. These disciples were also plagued by doubt and fear, they suffered at times from an over abundance of pride and a lack of courage, and they, too, eventually deserted Jesus, and at the very time he needed them the most. So if they aren’t smarter, or more faithful, or more courageous, or, in short, any better than the rest of Jesus’ disciples – then or now – then what it is that sets them apart.
One thing. Listen, again, to Peter as he says the words we say before the reading of the Gospel: “Lord,” he replies to Jesus’ question, “to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” Peter, you see, knew where to look. That’s it. That’s what makes him and the others different – it’s not their brains or the ability or their status or even their faith: they simply know where to look.
And once again, you see, we find ourselves all of a sudden right back in the middle of the our discussion about the sacraments and the significance they hold for our life together. For as Jesus’ real presence in our world, the sacraments are the once place we may look and know for sure that we will find God in Christ there for us.
Now here I want to be most clear. This is not to say that God is not at work in other places in the world. My word, but as believing Christians we confess that this world simply pulses with the presence and activity of its creator: in nature, of course, but also in government, and family, in the work you do and the benefits you receive from the work of others, in our gathering together as families and as a family of faith. In all these places and more God continues to be both present and active creating and sustaining the whole creation.
And yet…and yet each of us knows just how difficult at times it can be to see God in these places. When nature turns violent or government goes corrupt, when the family is a place of discord and the church one of division, when all the things we usually count on come up empty and we no longer know where to turn, then we may hear the sacraments calling us back to see God clearly at work for us through water, bread, and wine, combined with God’s mighty word of forgiveness, acceptance, and life.
Writing in the midst of a controversy about the nature of the sacraments, Martin Luther says very much the same. “Although [God] is present in all creatures,” Luther writes, “and I might find him in stone, in fire, in water, or even in a rope, for he certainly is there, yet he does not wish that I seek him there apart from m the Word, and [thereby] cast myself into the fire or the water, or hang myself on the rope. He is present everywhere, but does not wish that you grope for him everywhere. Grope, rather, where the Word is, and there you will lay hold of him in the right way” (LW 36:342).
“Grope where the Word is.” What a vivid way to emphasize the importance of the sacraments, as they tell us not simply that God is present in general, but that God is present particularly and personally for us! This is the genius of baptism. Because while Baptism is never a private affair, it is none the less personal. We don’t baptize in general, that is, but individual persons joined to the promises of Christ through water and the Word.
And it help explains why more and more churches from a variety of traditions have moved in recent decades to more frequent celebration of the Lord’s Supper, recognizing that week in and week out, in the midst of all the craziness and haziness of life in our world, it’s incredibly helpful to come to church and count on having the elements of bread and wine lifted into the air that we might see and taste God’s particular promises of acceptance, forgiveness, and presence for us.
You see, here’s the thing: although God’s word is most surely apart of the liturgy and hymns, the prayers and our preaching, yet even in these important elements of our shared worship it may sometimes be hidden and hard to hear. Yet in Baptism and the Lord’s Supper God has bound God’s own self to the Word and through the Word to the simple, common, and ordinary elements of water, bread and wine – the very stuff of everyday life – so what we who are simple, common, ordinary, and everyday people may receive him with confidence.
So once again, Dear Partner, I’d suggest that the task in front of us to invite our people to come. Come to God bind God’s own self to us in Baptism and come to receive again the earthly, particular, and powerful promise that God’s will stay with us, hold onto us, and love us forever.
Thank you for your proclamation, Dear Preacher, because each time you speak these promises you are showing weary disciples where to look, where to hear the promise that God’s loves them, where to find just what they need — abundant life! This is why what you do matters to much. It’s that simple, and that profound. Blessings on your words this week and always.
Yours in Christ,
David
Thank you for these thoughts, they are helpful to me.
Mike
Hi David, thanks for this weeks reflection. I’m going to open the sermon with the Clash’s, “should I stay or should I go now” To me that, as you said is often our very human response to living into the Word.
Maybe Peter’s response was/could have been. ” If I stay there will be trouble, if I leave it will be double” Staying with Jesus did not remove trouble from the disciples lives but staying with Jesus made the trouble bearable (?) “not sure that’s the right word?”. Whereas, leaving Jesus mean’t leaving the one who offers to be with us in the midst of trouble and therefor bring as the clash say, “double trouble.”
I visited an ELCA church in MN a few weeks ago while on vacation. I was tempted to go to Woodale Community Church because I knew I would hear music from a full orchestra and a sermon by a pastor for whom that was his only task. But I chose to go to an ELCA church because I wanted and need Holy Communion. The church did not include communion that Sunday because they have a schedule of baptisms on 2 and 4th Sundays and communion on 1 and 3. The pastor explained to me that the Holy Spirit is present in both sacraments so that should be enough. When I read your words about baptism being public but personal, I realized why I didn’t feel fed that day. I needed to receive the gift of the sacrament personally. It is always a blessings to read your writings. Know that they are deeply appreciated!
Thank you David. I was struggling to find a starting point with this passage and your words have given it to me.