Eleventh Sunday After Pentecost
S. Pentecost 11.24 John 6:22-35
“Jesus answered them, ‘Truly, truly I say to you, you are seeking me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the bread’.”
And that’s our problem too, I think, a difficulty we’ve been contemplating the last few Sundays: how is it that the world sees Jesus, but doesn’t really SEE him? Misses the point of him, almost entirely, you might say…?
Herod had this problem too, which we considered a few weeks ago. He was enticed by John the Baptist’s teaching of Jesus, but more enticed (in a less wholesome way) by Salome’s dancing. When he told Salome to ask him anything, absolutely anything, and he’d give it to her, I had her say jokingly at first (like the Western text does?) “Paint my house” and I think only 5 people laughed. So here’s the joke which I was referencing, assuming you’d all heard it, which clearly was a mistaken assumption…
“A man is sitting at a bar enjoying an after-work cocktail when an exceptionally enchanting, drop–dead gorgeous young woman enters. She is so striking that the man cannot take his eyes off her. The young woman notices his overly attentive stare and walks directly towards him. Before he can offer his apologies for being so rude, the young woman says to him, in a soft, husky voice: ‘I’ll do anything, absolutely anything you want me to do for $100 on one condition…’ Flabbergasted, the man asks what the condition is. The young woman replies: ‘You have to tell me what you want me to do in just three words.’ The man considers her proposition for a moment, takes out his wallet, slowly counts out 5 20s, presses them into the young woman’s hand, looks into her eyes, and slowly, soulfully, says, ‘Paint my house’.”
Some may think that is not the most appropriate story to tell in a sermon. Naturally, I disagree. It’s highly appropriate! While the worldly-minded will think the man could have made better choices with such an alluring offer, those with an appreciation for virtues like chastity and purity of heart will commend the gentleman for making both a virtuous and an entirely practical choice. Getting your house painted for $100 is an amazing deal!
It reminds me of David when he asked “What will the King do for the man who kills Goliath?” And they told him “The King will give him his daughter’s hand in marriage and lifetime exemption from taxes.” And David’s like “Exemption from taxes?! I’ll get my slingshot…” The marriage to Michal, you may recall, was deeply disappointing for both and ended in tears.
Today we pick up the Story right where Mark left us off in his 6th chapter, after Jesus’ feeding the 5,000 with 5 loaves and 2 fish. Before the miraculous nature of the feeding has fully dawned on them, Jesus has sent the disciples to the other side the sea of Galilee in a boat, climbed a nearby mountain to evade the crowd, and in the middle of the night when no one’s around, walks across the sea on the water, scaring the beejeebers out of his disciples floundering in the middle of the sea, and then riding the rest of the way across with them in their boat.
The day after, not finding him on that side, the crowd got into boats and came to Capernaum on the other side of the sea, seeking Jesus. When they find him, they realize that he not only miraculously multiplied the loaves and fish, but apparently has traveled miraculously to the other side of the sea because he had no boat and it’s way too far to walk.
So they ask “Rabbi, how did you get here?” Can this guy teleport, too? Imagine how fast he could paint your house!!!
Jesus answers them, “Amen, amen I say to you, you are seeking me, not because you saw signs but because you ate your fill of the bread.” And we, I suggest to you have the same damn problem.
C.S. Lewis diagnosed it well: we are like children content with making mud-pies in a slum when a vacation at the beach is offered. We content ourselves with drink, sex, money, and ambition when eternal life and joy are on offer. As Cameron in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off says of his father when Ferris wants to take Cameron’s dad’s Ferrari for a spin, “My father worships that car, never drives it, deathly afraid he might scratch it.” And Ferris says “A man with such a screwed up set of priorities does not deserve such a fine automobile.” You know what happens next.
We are like Cameron’s dad in that classic film. The Son of God comes sauntering our way, saying, “deny yourselves, the world forsake, hit the road with me and a rucksack, take up your cross, follow me, for whoever hates his life in this world and loses it for my sake (and the Gospel’s) will find another, far better…
But we’re scared of the scratches that might leave. We’d rather have the alluring stranger paint our house than sweep us off our feet. We don’t want to leave everything like Neal and Jack in ‘On the Road’ to chase the dream of heaven. We certainly don’t want to die!—even if dying is the only way to kill the sin that makes us small-minded, shallow, and afraid of everything—even if Jesus promises to raise the dead, new and better, perfect even, just like him…(!)
The problem, simply put, is: we don’t desire too much from Jesus, no! It’s the opposite: we desire far too little from Jesus. He would lure us to follow him on a Greater Adventure…
The signs that Jesus is God himself, come in our flesh to lead us on an Adventure (literally out of this world!) are right in front of our faces. But it is only, as we said last week, FAITH that sees and that desires the Big Adventure with Jesus; and faith is, as Luther says: extra nos—outside ourselves while…
Sin is, as Luther also says: being in curvatus se, ‘turned in on ourselves’—hoarders, hunkering down in cold dark hovels we call ‘homes’, fearing what’s outside. Jesus turns our eyes outward, luring us to chase after him…
Peter Brown tells a lovely story about Xn backpackers who travel to Chartres Cathedral to sleep in the rafters, hoping for holy, healing dreams…
This is what Jesus has on offer… what he promises to give us when we leave our dreams of home and security behind to travel the magnificent mountain crossroads with him…
The crowd asks: “what may we do, so that we may work the works of God?” and Jesus says… “NOTHING!… this is the work of God: that you may believe in him whom he has sent.” Pascal says the hardest thing for a person is to sit quietly in a room and do… nothing. Which is why faith isn’t just hard. It’s impossible.
By Jesus’ signs—his word going in your ears, his body and blood going in your mouths, he’s doing the impossible nothing of faith to you, for you, right now, giving you holier, grander, healing dreams that all come true in him, as Peace, surpassing all understanding, guards your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.