At last Writely, the (admittedly fairly basic) online collaborative word processor that Google bought some months back, is now up and running. (Thanks to ineedhits for the tip-off.) Real possibilities for doing documents together – as with other things like Google Spreadsheets or competitors. (Methodist ministers in a circuit could do a lot of the ‘circuit plan’ together this way and save some time.) Unusually Writely didn’t ask for my Google account sign-in – I had to sign up as if I had no prior contact with Google.
Sermon, John 6:51-58
I’ll be having a week’s blogging holiday from Saturday. So I’ve tried to write Sunday week’s sermon ahead of time. I can’t say I’m completely happy with it – while I am content with the direction and content it lacks colour and illustration. It’s a bit too much like a Bible study argument right now. Hopefully leaving it to marinate will produce ways I can amend it. In the meantime here it is so far:
To view the Bible passage in a separate window click here.
Introduction
The BBC completes tonight a three-part series on The Miracles Of Jesus, fronted by Rageh Omaar. Miracles are a topic of conversation. But as one preacher commented in 1999,
If Jesus were alive today, he wouldn’t be allowed to get away with half the miracles he performed. It’s not just that we live in such a sceptical, rationalist age. It’s all the red tape as well. Here are a few examples.
Turning water into wine
This would provoke immediate protests from the drinks industry, who would argue that it was unfair competition, amounting to a monopoly. It would also be denounced by various Christian bodies as irresponsible and likely to lead to drunkenness.
Feeding the multitude
Serving bread and fish to thousands of people at an outdoor event would require the approval of government health inspectors, to ensure that the food had been prepared by qualified food handlers in a hygienic environment. Baskets of leftovers would also need to be disposed of properly.
Walking on water
This could only be done if it were preceded by a disclaimer that nobody should try this at home, particularly not children or young people.
The miraculous catch of fish
Fish stocks are now rigorously conserved to protect against over-fishing, and such large catches would undoubtedly exceed the fishermen’s quotas, leading to stiff penalties.
Healing a man born blind
This apparent act of kindness would lead to all sorts of problems with the government Benefits Agency. All disability benefit would immediately be stopped, and the man in question would probably face an investigation into whether his previous claims had been genuine.
Raising the dead
Environmental health officers wouldn’t be happy about this one, as there are stringent rules governing the proper disposal of bodies. There would also be major difficulties when the recently deceased tried to use their credit cards.
[Simon Coupland, Spicing Up Your Speaking, #75 p187f.]
Well, hopefully we can smile at these. But it isn’t just the red tape problem, the miracles of Jesus are often more than just the acts themselves, especially in John’s Gospel, where they are called ‘signs’. It is not just that Jesus fed five thousand men, plus women and children, as in the story that the Lectionary Gospel readings have been following for the last few weeks. It’s enough for the crowd to have been physically fed, but it isn’t enough for Jesus. His subsequent conversation (if not argument!) with the crowd centres around his teaching that he is the Bread Of Life.
So it’s not enough to defend or celebrate the miracle: we need to ask, where was Jesus pointing us towards with this sign? In this case, he tells us quite specifically.
1. Life
Jesus says,
‘I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live for ever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.’
[verse 51]
What does he mean? His Jewish audience picks up on the word ‘flesh’ and proceeds to have an internal dispute:
‘How can this man give us his flesh to eat?’
[verse 52]
They misunderstand and think he’s talking about cannibalism. It was something the Early Church was often to be accused of when they spoke of eating Christ’s body and drinking his blood.
And we misunderstand it, too. We assume Jesus is speaking here about Holy Communion. But that is not the context. This is not the Last Supper. And Jesus speaks not of his ‘body’ as in the texts about the Lord’s Supper but his ‘flesh’. When he says that ‘the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh’ he is specifically referring to his death. He is saying that his death on the Cross will bring life for the world. ‘Eating of his bread’, then, means believing in Jesus and particularly trusting that his Cross brings life.
Life comes through death. It’s the supreme Gospel paradox. The Gospel promise in John is for ‘eternal life’. And this eternal life is not just life for the future but a future life that starts now. In John Jesus speaks about eternal life in the present tense.
What is that eternal life? It is knowing God. Just eternity will consist of knowing God, so we begin that knowledge now.
And that knowledge of God which begins now is made possible by Jesus’ death. His death does that in a number of ways. One is this: our knowledge of God is impeded by sin. In some mysterious way that Christians debate Christ died for our sins on the Cross. Sin, which is the opposite of God’s character, is dealt with in love and grace. Those who believe Christ has done this and trust their lives to him find that God says, ‘Welcome!’
Another way in which the Cross opens us up to the knowledge of God is this: Jesus said (also in John’s Gospel) ‘Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father’ (John 14:9). If you want to know what God is like, look at Jesus. And we see him supremely on the Cross. To the Greek enquirers who wanted to see him (John 12:21) he said in summary that the best place to see him in glory was on the Cross.
We see the Father in Jesus and we see Jesus best on the Cross. And what do we learn there? We find love, grace, mercy, humility, sacrifice. These become our core knowledge of God. This is what God is like. And we learn it at the Cross. No wonder in his First Epistle John made the most basic statement of all about God when he said, ‘God is love’ (1 John 4:8).
Feeding on the flesh of Jesus – that is, believing in Jesus and the benefits of his Cross – brings us into the knowledge of God. The barrier of sin is broken down and the Cross shows us what God is most truly like. The Cross helps us to know a God of sacrificial love.
What does this mean for us? First of all it is an encouragement. It brings us comfort and assurance in the certainty of God’s great love for us and the world.
But secondly it brings a challenge to us. If Christ and his Cross bring us into this particular knowledge of God and his love, we who receive that life then begin to live that life. God’s gift of eternal life – knowing the God of sacrificial love – is not meant simply to be a blessing to us. It is meant to be lived out. Those who are blessed this way are called to live this way. We have this life in us (verse 53). If we feed on the bread of life we shall be people who love God and love others. This will be the sign that we have received the life of God.
So how are we doing? Is this how we are known? Does the life of God become known through us? How do people regard us as individuals/ And what about ‘our’ church? The litmus test for any church, surely, is, would the community notice if it were closed down? How are we perceived in Hatfield Peverel or Broomfield? The answers to these questions will give a good idea as to whether we truly feed on the bread of life.
2. Loyalty
What we’ve talked about is a lasting thing, for Jesus goes on to say:
‘Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.’
(verse 56)
It’s that word ‘abide’ (or ‘remain’ in other translations). It’s not a flitting in and a flitting out. Jesus does not want us to be like the little girl sitting in the field pulling petals off a flower, alternately saying, “He loves me, he loves me not.”
Further, we abide in Jesus and he abides in us. It’s mutual. It means a relationship of loyalty and fellowship [Colin Kruse, John, p 175.] Jesus is loyal to us, and we are loyal to him. Jesus seeks fellowship with us, and we seek it with him.
And I don’t know about you, but for me that truth casts a helpful light on all the exhortations we hear to be better Christians. Do you ever feel battered about the head by all the calls to live better, pray more, give more, be a more courageous witness, and so on? Do you ever leave Sunday worship feeling hopeless and just wanting to give up?
It seems to me that we talk a lot about the need for greater commitment, and it’s right that we do in some form or another, because sometimes we seem to have accepted very low standards of discipleship in the community of Jesus. But if all we ever do is put the emphasis upon us and what we must do, then we merely ladle more guilt on people’s heads.
So when I read of this mutual relationship of loyalty and fellowship between Jesus and us, I start to find hope. It isn’t just that I am called to be loyal. Nor is it simply that I need to be berated over how much or little fellowship I have with Jesus. I need to hear the fact that Jesus is already loyal to me. I need the proclamation that he is already seeking out fellowship with me. He is committed to me. He wants my friendship.
Remember, God takes the initiative. We respond. To go back to John’s First Epistle, ‘We love because he first loved us’ (1 John 4:19). The loyalty and the fellowship are mutual, but God in Christ makes the first move towards us.
So yes, it can be tough to hear the call to be loyal to Christ. That can mean all sorts of things, some of them very challenging. We may find aspects of that call quite daunting. But he doesn’t just think, “What difficult and terrible things can I call those Christians to do? Ah, I know – they’ll hate that!” and then sit in heaven watching almost gleefully as we fail. That isn’t Christ. He is committed to us first.
Jesus has already shown his loyalty and commitment to us by being born of the Virgin Mary: ‘The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.’ (John 1:14) He took that commitment as far as the Cross. When he calls us to a similar loyalty it is on the basis of what he has done for us: after the Resurrection he said, ‘As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.’ (John 20:21) That’s why we respond positively, even to challenging calls to loyal commitment – because Jesus has stood by us and continues to stand by us.
It’s similar with the call to fellowship. Preachers can remind us time and again how important it is to build a good devotional life of Bible reading, prayer and other spiritual disciplines. It just seems such a slog sometimes. Maybe we’ve been falsely led to believe that every time of personal devotion is meant to be like being with Christ on the Mount of Transfiguration. But perhaps it is all reduced to a grey sense of obligation. And there isn’t much oomph in obligation.
But the initiative in establishing fellowship again comes from the divine side of the relationship. Later Jesus would say in another context, ‘If anyone loves me, he will obey my teaching. My Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him.’ (John 14:23) We’ve already said that we can only love after God first loves us. Now that we love, we learn that the Father and Jesus come to us. We don’t come to them for fellowship. They come to us. So when we hear the call to approach the Throne in prayer and worship it comes because God has already moved towards us.
Even if not every experience of prayer is exciting or dramatic, what remains true is that the summons comes because the Father and the Son have already come close to us. No, more than near to us – they have made their home in our lives. The call to fellowship is simply a call to have conversation with those who are already in the house.
The relationship, then, is one of loyalty and fellowship, or what Steve Chalke has called ‘Intimacy And Involvement’. Radical commitment in the world and (‘loyalty’, ‘involvement’) and deep personal spiritual devotion (‘fellowship’, intimacy’). Some Christians prefer one over the other. Some like to get their hands dirty. Others enjoy prayer and worship. We aren’t given an either/or choice, however. And the reason is because both are but reflections of God’s nature as revealed in Christ. These are how Jesus has revealed God to us. The Incarnation and the Cross show the level of his loyalty to us. The Resurrection shows that he has an ongoing commitment to fellowship with us.
How, then, can we not want to respond? For indeed the loyalty we show Christ and the fellowship we share with him will be outworkings of the life he gives us. That life will be seen in the world and joyfully shared with him.
Technorati Tags: Rageh+Omaar, miracles, bread+of+life
links for 2006-08-08
-
Interview with Jim Collins who wrote ‘Good To Great’ – a business book that has influenced church leaders in the USA. Collins recognises that business practices do not easily translate to the voluntary sector. A lot of highlights in the interview: average
One Further Resource On Spiritual Abuse
BALM ‘Bullied and Abused Lives in Ministry – a Resource for Damaged Ministers’
Technorati Tags: spirutual+abuse
Websites On Spiritual Abuse
Collected from the latest issue of Leaders’ Digest:
Safe In Church
Spiritual Abuse Recovery Resources
Christian Recovery International
Network Counselling Service (founded by Dr Roger Hurding who taught me Pastoral Counselling)
Churches’ Child Protection Advisory Service (I’ve been on one of their day conferences – excellent)
Technorati Tags: spiritual+abuse
Sermon, John 6:24-35 ‘Bread Of Life’
Here is tomorrow’s sermon.
To view the Bible passage in a separate window click here.
Introduction
She was the most severe manager I ever had at the office, and the only one who didn’t let her staff address her by Christian name. Mrs A D Freeman. She never let on what the A, let alone the D, stood for. A rumour went round that A was for Agnes, and she didn’t like the name.
She lived to work, and expected her staff to do the same. The idea that many people didn’t live to work but worked to live was foreign to her. It was probably dishonourable in her view.
And our passage today raises that kind of question: what do we work for? Not necessarily in the sense of paid employment and careers but in this sense: where do we put our energies? What matters to us? What are our deepest values and most precious concerns? What are we devoted to?
For the crowd catches up with Jesus after the feeding of the five thousand. You may recall from last week that Jesus knew they wanted to make him king by force, and so he slipped away. But when they find him and ask him when it was he had got to Capernaum [verse 25], he replies:
‘Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For it is on him that God the Father has set his seal.’
[verses 26-27]
What food are you working for? asks Jesus. Food that perishes or food that endures for eternal life? Food that spoils or food that satisfies? It’s a question that bears asking today. And it bears asking of us.
1. Food That Spoils
The crowd had been fed from the five barley loaves and two fish. They took it as a sign that here was their military Messiah. This prophet would free them from the Romans like Moses who gave the manna had freed their ancestors from the Egyptians.
But Jesus resists. He knows that their ambition is for food that spoils. This ‘food’ of a military Messiah came with a use-by date. That date proved to be AD 70, when the Jewish uprising was ruthlessly crushed by Rome.
And it was ‘food that spoils’ in a spiritual sense. This might have brought political freedom had it worked, but with it would have come the poisons of vengeance and hatred.
So what has a ‘use-by date’ today? Well, just working for food and the basics does: not that it’s unimportant, but only to do that reduces us from abundant life to mere existence.
Others work for the weekend. It isn’t just young people who do so and go clubbing, only to be poisoned by alcohol and drug abuse. It’s also the middle-aged whose weekend is consumed by DIY, as if the beautiful home they create is an oasis or a sanctuary. Yet even a place like Broomfield has social problems. Just read the latest issue of the Broomfield Times and how Police Community Support Officer Lucy Smith reports on the level of nuisance behaviour and criminal damage. When the English make their home into a castle it’s food that spoils.
Or similarly, what about working for possessions? You just need a fire or a burglary or suffer a reduction in your income to know that this too is food that spoils.
Making career advancement our goal is of the same ilk. It can make us into ugly characters. We distort our identity when we are defined by our work. And it’s all vulnerable to failing at interview or redundancy. It has a use-by date.
Some may pour their energies into sexual pleasures, but the phase of a relationship that is established by the heady feeling of being ‘in love’ passes and then the relationship requires hard work. Alternatively it’s one night stands and treating people as disposable objects. Hardly ‘food that satisfies’ – it’s dehumanising, behaving as no more than an animal.
All of these and more are lifestyles that Christians have regularly exposed as not being what God wants for human beings. But how often do we settle for ‘food that spoils’ in church life? More often than we care to admit, I suggest.
We are contaminated by the consumerism of our society and if we’re not careful it affects the way we express our faith. Every time we use the expression ‘my church’ we need to walk a tightrope. Those of us who now worship in a nice building face particular dangers here. If we mean, ‘This is where I belong and is the base from which I work out my discipleship’, we remain balanced on the tightrope. If we say ‘my church’ as if in some sense we own it, then we fall off. It is Christ’s church and he wants it back. Unless our words and deeds acknowledge Jesus as Lord of the church we have settled for food that spoils.
My teenage description of the church was that it was ‘a God-club where God had been voted off the committee’. And God Club is what we have often made church. We make it the centre of our social life. We like church, because it is full of ‘people like us’. We exclude others on social grounds.
The desire for status infects the church, too. I don’t just mean ministers who think it’s their call to climb the greasy pole of the hierarchy and attain greater position and power. The same happens in the local congregation, where individuals enjoy power, don’t let go of jobs, dominate committees to the point that others are afraid to disagree, and generally behave like big fish in a small pond. Isn’t that altogether too pathetic to be food that satisfies?
If we ever wanted a prophetic warning that so many of our church habits have a limited shelf life, it came many years ago in Henry Drummond’s nineteenth century book ‘The City Without A Church’. This title is inspired by the text from Revelation where John says of the new Jerusalem, ‘I saw no temple therein’. Thus he says,
John, in his Revelation, holds up to the world the picture of a city without a church as his ideal of the heavenly life.
There is no temple in heaven. Its temple is the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb [Revelation 21:22]. Do we need any further proof that all our church games will not satisfy spiritual hunger?
2. Food That Satisfies
So what does Jesus say? He says,
‘This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent.’
[verse 30]
Not exactly work, is it? He calls people to feed on ‘the bread of God that God sends’ [verse 33] and then says, ‘I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.’ [verse 35]
Believing in Jesus provides eternal, satisfying sustenance. But what does this believing in Jesus involve?
Well it clearly means more than believing in his existence. The crowd know he exists and no sane historian ever troubles to doubt that. Jesus is attested to outside the Gospels by chroniclers of first century life. He’s not an invention. It has to be more.
It has to be a matter of believing in Jesus in the sense of trusting him – in fact, of entrusting our lives to his care and his direction. When we do that, we shall no longer be empty inside:
‘Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.’
[verse 35]
The ‘food that spoils’ leaves us empty inside – it cannot satisfy, it cannot fill or fulfil. But faith in Jesus means
‘there is no longer that core emptiness that the initial encounter with Jesus has met.’
[D A Carson, The Gospel According To John, p 288]
Our hunger for acceptance is met in the forgiveness of our sins at the Cross. No more need we wonder whether we are loved when we receive the gift of God’s forgiveness through repentance and faith.
Our hunger for relationship is met in being connected by the living God. There may be an ache in our hearts for certain human relationships but none can surpass the astonishing interest that the God of the universe takes in us.
Our hunger for purpose is met, too. For Christ brings us in on the divine enterprise of the kingdom of God. We are partners with him in bringing all things under the loving and compassionate reign of God. We do that not only in our church roles, but in every part of the world that we occupy, even when doing the most ordinary of jobs. Hear Henry Drummond again from ‘The City Without A Church’:
When Christianity shall take upon itself in full responsibility the burden and care of cities – the Kingdom of God will openly come on earth. People do not dispute that religion is in the church. What is now wanted it to let them see it in the city.
…
In every city throughout the world today, there is a city descending out of heaven from God. Each one of us daily building up this city – or helping to keep it back.
Now what better purpose could we want for our lives than that? It’s a majestic mountain in contrast to the ant hills of human ambition. And it’s open to people of all backgrounds. Take this story that Brian McLaren tells in his recent book ‘The Secret Message Of Jesus’ about a man named Carter, a seventy-five-year old African-American taxi driver in Washington, DC:
Back in 1994, Carter served as taxi driver for a man from Malawi, Africa. Because Carter wasn’t “just a taxi driver” but instead was “a taxi driver in the kingdom of God”, he treated his guest with special respect as only a taxi driver in the kingdom of God can. The guest introduced Carter to some other Malawian friends, and soon Carter the taxi driver was invited to visit Malawi, which he did, in 1998.
There, Carter saw poverty he had never before imagined. He prayed, “Lord, help me bring some joy to this village.” And God answered his prayer. First, Carter realized that there was no road in the village – just a narrow path, rutted and muddy. … With a proper road, people could get around better, and elderly and sick people could be transported to the hospital. He had brought some money, so he offered to pay for gas and oil and drivers if the people of the village would do the work. Soon Carter’s generous spirit – the spirit of the kingdom of God – became contagious, and someone provided a grader and then more and more people volunteered to help. Three days later, they had built a proper road a mile and a quarter long.
A year or so later, he returned to the village. A young man had been falsely accused of stealing and was stuck in jail. Since Carter seeks the kingdom and justice of God wherever he goes, he got involved, and soon the young man was set free. On this same visit, Carter met a boy who needed medical care that was available only in a distant city. Carter made it possible for the boy to get treatment on a regular basis by finding and convincing – who else? – a driver to take him.
The next year, he went back again and this time helped some young men improve their farming. (Carter is not an agriculturalist, but he used money he had saved from his job as a taxi driver for the kingdom of God to buy them some additional seeds.) He made connections and got twenty-six soccer balls donated to the children of the village, because in the kingdom of God, fun and play are important things. Carter knew this. He even helped them get uniforms, because in the kingdom of God dignity and pride are also important things.
On another trip, Carter the taxi driver’s generosity inspired a shopkeeper in the village to donate money to help some sick children get treatment for ringworm. Soon a Bible school was launched, and it grew from seventeen to eighty-five students quickly. No wonder – when you see signs of the kingdom of God coming to your village, you want to learn all about it!
Roads, rides, seeds, ringworm medicine, soccer balls and uniforms, a Bible school – these are all signs of the kingdom of God in that little village. Carter told me, “I don’t do any of this myself. God is doing it through me.”
[Brian McLaren, The Secret Message Of Jesus, pp 87-89.]
Carter. Just a humble taxi driver in the world’s eyes. Which do you suppose he is eating – food that spoils or food that satisfies?
And which are we eating?
Technorati Tags: bread+of+life, Broomfield, Henry+Drummond, The+City+Without+A+Church, D+A+Carson, Brian+McLaren, The+Secret+Message+Of+Jesus
Sermon, John 6:24-35 ‘Bread Of Life’
Here is tomorrow’s sermon.
To view the Bible passage in a separate window click here.
Introduction
She was the most severe manager I ever had at the office, and the only one who didn’t let her staff address her by Christian name. Mrs A D Freeman. She never let on what the A, let alone the D, stood for. A rumour went round that A was for Agnes, and she didn’t like the name.
She lived to work, and expected her staff to do the same. The idea that many people didn’t live to work but worked to live was foreign to her. It was probably dishonourable in her view.
And our passage today raises that kind of question: what do we work for? Not necessarily in the sense of paid employment and careers but in this sense: where do we put our energies? What matters to us? What are our deepest values and most precious concerns? What are we devoted to?
For the crowd catches up with Jesus after the feeding of the five thousand. You may recall from last week that Jesus knew they wanted to make him king by force, and so he slipped away. But when they find him and ask him when it was he had got to Capernaum [verse 25], he replies:
‘Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For it is on him that God the Father has set his seal.’
[verses 26-27]
What food are you working for? asks Jesus. Food that perishes or food that endures for eternal life? Food that spoils or food that satisfies? It’s a question that bears asking today. And it bears asking of us.
1. Food That Spoils
The crowd had been fed from the five barley loaves and two fish. They took it as a sign that here was their military Messiah. This prophet would free them from the Romans like Moses who gave the manna had freed their ancestors from the Egyptians.
But Jesus resists. He knows that their ambition is for food that spoils. This ‘food’ of a military Messiah came with a use-by date. That date proved to be AD 70, when the Jewish uprising was ruthlessly crushed by Rome.
And it was ‘food that spoils’ in a spiritual sense. This might have brought political freedom had it worked, but with it would have come the poisons of vengeance and hatred.
So what has a ‘use-by date’ today? Well, just working for food and the basics does: not that it’s unimportant, but only to do that reduces us from abundant life to mere existence.
Others work for the weekend. It isn’t just young people who do so and go clubbing, only to be poisoned by alcohol and drug abuse. It’s also the middle-aged whose weekend is consumed by DIY, as if the beautiful home they create is an oasis or a sanctuary. Yet even a place like Broomfield has social problems. Just read the latest issue of the Broomfield Times and how Police Community Support Officer Lucy Smith reports on the level of nuisance behaviour and criminal damage. When the English make their home into a castle it’s food that spoils.
Or similarly, what about working for possessions? You just need a fire or a burglary or suffer a reduction in your income to know that this too is food that spoils.
Making career advancement our goal is of the same ilk. It can make us into ugly characters. We distort our identity when we are defined by our work. And it’s all vulnerable to failing at interview or redundancy. It has a use-by date.
Some may pour their energies into sexual pleasures, but the phase of a relationship that is established by the heady feeling of being ‘in love’ passes and then the relationship requires hard work. Alternatively it’s one night stands and treating people as disposable objects. Hardly ‘food that satisfies’ – it’s dehumanising, behaving as no more than an animal.
All of these and more are lifestyles that Christians have regularly exposed as not being what God wants for human beings. But how often do we settle for ‘food that spoils’ in church life? More often than we care to admit, I suggest.
We are contaminated by the consumerism of our society and if we’re not careful it affects the way we express our faith. Every time we use the expression ‘my church’ we need to walk a tightrope. Those of us who now worship in a nice building face particular dangers here. If we mean, ‘This is where I belong and is the base from which I work out my discipleship’, we remain balanced on the tightrope. If we say ‘my church’ as if in some sense we own it, then we fall off. It is Christ’s church and he wants it back. Unless our words and deeds acknowledge Jesus as Lord of the church we have settled for food that spoils.
My teenage description of the church was that it was ‘a God-club where God had been voted off the committee’. And God Club is what we have often made church. We make it the centre of our social life. We like church, because it is full of ‘people like us’. We exclude others on social grounds.
The desire for status infects the church, too. I don’t just mean ministers who think it’s their call to climb the greasy pole of the hierarchy and attain greater position and power. The same happens in the local congregation, where individuals enjoy power, don’t let go of jobs, dominate committees to the point that others are afraid to disagree, and generally behave like big fish in a small pond. Isn’t that altogether too pathetic to be food that satisfies?
If we ever wanted a prophetic warning that so many of our church habits have a limited shelf life, it came many years ago in Henry Drummond’s nineteenth century book ‘The City Without A Church’. This title is inspired by the text from Revelation where John says of the new Jerusalem, ‘I saw no temple therein’. Thus he says,
John, in his Revelation, holds up to the world the picture of a city without a church as his ideal of the heavenly life.
There is no temple in heaven. Its temple is the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb [Revelation 21:22]. Do we need any further proof that all our church games will not satisfy spiritual hunger?
2. Food That Satisfies
So what does Jesus say? He says,
‘This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent.’
[verse 30]
Not exactly work, is it? He calls people to feed on ‘the bread of God that God sends’ [verse 33] and then says, ‘I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.’ [verse 35]
Believing in Jesus provides eternal, satisfying sustenance. But what does this believing in Jesus involve?
Well it clearly means more than believing in his existence. The crowd know he exists and no sane historian ever troubles to doubt that. Jesus is attested to outside the Gospels by chroniclers of first century life. He’s not an invention. It has to be more.
It has to be a matter of believing in Jesus in the sense of trusting him – in fact, of entrusting our lives to his care and his direction. When we do that, we shall no longer be empty inside:
‘Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.’
[verse 35]
The ‘food that spoils’ leaves us empty inside – it cannot satisfy, it cannot fill or fulfil. But faith in Jesus means
‘there is no longer that core emptiness that the initial encounter with Jesus has met.’
[D A Carson, The Gospel According To John, p 288]
Our hunger for acceptance is met in the forgiveness of our sins at the Cross. No more need we wonder whether we are loved when we receive the gift of God’s forgiveness through repentance and faith.
Our hunger for relationship is met in being connected by the living God. There may be an ache in our hearts for certain human relationships but none can surpass the astonishing interest that the God of the universe takes in us.
Our hunger for purpose is met, too. For Christ brings us in on the divine enterprise of the kingdom of God. We are partners with him in bringing all things under the loving and compassionate reign of God. We do that not only in our church roles, but in every part of the world that we occupy, even when doing the most ordinary of jobs. Hear Henry Drummond again from ‘The City Without A Church’:
When Christianity shall take upon itself in full responsibility the burden and care of cities – the Kingdom of God will openly come on earth. People do not dispute that religion is in the church. What is now wanted it to let them see it in the city.
…
In every city throughout the world today, there is a city descending out of heaven from God. Each one of us daily building up this city – or helping to keep it back.
Now what better purpose could we want for our lives than that? It’s a majestic mountain in contrast to the ant hills of human ambition. And it’s open to people of all backgrounds. Take this story that Brian McLaren tells in his recent book ‘The Secret Message Of Jesus’ about a man named Carter, a seventy-five-year old African-American taxi driver in Washington, DC:
Back in 1994, Carter served as taxi driver for a man from Malawi, Africa. Because Carter wasn’t “just a taxi driver” but instead was “a taxi driver in the kingdom of God”, he treated his guest with special respect as only a taxi driver in the kingdom of God can. The guest introduced Carter to some other Malawian friends, and soon Carter the taxi driver was invited to visit Malawi, which he did, in 1998.
There, Carter saw poverty he had never before imagined. He prayed, “Lord, help me bring some joy to this village.” And God answered his prayer. First, Carter realized that there was no road in the village – just a narrow path, rutted and muddy. … With a proper road, people could get around better, and elderly and sick people could be transported to the hospital. He had brought some money, so he offered to pay for gas and oil and drivers if the people of the village would do the work. Soon Carter’s generous spirit – the spirit of the kingdom of God – became contagious, and someone provided a grader and then more and more people volunteered to help. Three days later, they had built a proper road a mile and a quarter long.
A year or so later, he returned to the village. A young man had been falsely accused of stealing and was stuck in jail. Since Carter seeks the kingdom and justice of God wherever he goes, he got involved, and soon the young man was set free. On this same visit, Carter met a boy who needed medical care that was available only in a distant city. Carter made it possible for the boy to get treatment on a regular basis by finding and convincing – who else? – a driver to take him.
The next year, he went back again and this time helped some young men improve their farming. (Carter is not an agriculturalist, but he used money he had saved from his job as a taxi driver for the kingdom of God to buy them some additional seeds.) He made connections and got twenty-six soccer balls donated to the children of the village, because in the kingdom of God, fun and play are important things. Carter knew this. He even helped them get uniforms, because in the kingdom of God dignity and pride are also important things.
On another trip, Carter the taxi driver’s generosity inspired a shopkeeper in the village to donate money to help some sick children get treatment for ringworm. Soon a Bible school was launched, and it grew from seventeen to eighty-five students quickly. No wonder – when you see signs of the kingdom of God coming to your village, you want to learn all about it!
Roads, rides, seeds, ringworm medicine, soccer balls and uniforms, a Bible school – these are all signs of the kingdom of God in that little village. Carter told me, “I don’t do any of this myself. God is doing it through me.”
[Brian McLaren, The Secret Message Of Jesus, pp 87-89.]
Carter. Just a humble taxi driver in the world’s eyes. Which do you suppose he is eating – food that spoils or food that satisfies?
And which are we eating?
Technorati Tags: bread+of+life, Broomfield, Henry+Drummond, The+City+Without+A+Church, D+A+Carson, Brian+McLaren, The+Secret+Message+Of+Jesus