What kind of bread do you bake?
John 6:24-35
So when the crowd saw that neither Jesus nor his disciples were there, they themselves got into the boats and went to Capernaum looking for Jesus. When they found him on the other side of the sea, they said to him, “Rabbi, when did you come here?” Jesus answered them, “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.” Then they said to him, “What must we do to perform the works of God?” Jesus answered them, “This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent.” So they said to him, “What sign are you going to give us then, so that we may see it and believe you? What work are you performing? Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written, ‘He gave them bread from heaven to eat.’” Then Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” They said to him, “Sir, give us this bread always.” Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.
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At the end of a winter workday, I left my building and headed for my car parked three blocks away. A young woman met me halfway down the first block, and she asked for money. This was not new; this happened about once a month in the first four years I worked downtown. My response has changed from “I’m sorry, I don’t have any change for you” to “When was the last time you had something to eat?” Almost always, the response is a polite “I’m fine. Thanks.” and they move on. But this woman replied that she hadn’t eaten anything since the previous day. I asked her what her name was, and she said “Jessica.” She had probably spent a good part of the day around the city center, hoping to find someone to take pity on her.
Jesus said to the people who had followed him to Capernaum “You are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves.” He gets right to the point of calling them out because they were looking for more food, something, anything, to relieve their hunger and make them feel better. These people weren’t part of Jesus’ closest followers, they instead lived in the area. They were smart as well, because they had watched the disciples leave in a boat to cross the Sea of Galilee without Jesus, and figured out that he was meeting the disciples on the other side. They hired boats and left for Capernaum, driven by the experience that they had had the previous day, of eating bread and fish. It didn’t matter to them that Jesus had fed five thousand of them starting with just five loaves and two fish.
When Jessica had said that she hadn’t eaten in almost a day, I asked if I could buy her a meal. Many of the restaurants in eyesight had already closed, and the only nearby restaurant still open was a Subway sandwich shop. She said that would be ok with her. As we walked, she recounted where she was from, and how she had ended up homeless. Jessica was notable for two reasons: one because she was a young woman on the street, where most of the homeless and panhandlers I’ve seen are men over the age of 30, and two because she didn’t produce a flood of rehearsed words recounting her misfortune and being the victim of something or someone. She was being honest, even if she wasn’t telling her whole story.
In Capernaum, Jesus again challenges the crowd around him to “not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you.” He addresses the disconnect between the bread he offered that satisfied their hunger and the bread he was offering them right there that would feed their soul. They wanted their stomachs to be full again, but Jesus was saying “No, I’m not here to fill your stomach. I’m here to fill your heart.” And they must have heard him, because their response was “What must we do to perform the works of God?” But they didn’t quite get it, because they next ask for a sign to show that Jesus is doing God’s work. You can almost hear John slap his forehead as he wrote this story. They couldn’t see the miracle for all of the bread crumbs left behind, and they couldn’t see that Jesus was offering them something far more valuable than food. He was offering wisdom; he was offering purpose; he was offering salvation to the world hungry for for forgiveness and the peace that follows it. But the crowd didn’t understand the difference between barley loaves and the bread of life.
As we approached Subway, Jessica mentioned that she had an application to get a state ID card, and with an ID card, she could start looking for a job. But she needed money to get the card. At the door to Subway, she was a step ahead and held it open for me, but once inside we reversed roles and I told her to get whatever she wanted. The first question from the counter person to her was what kind of bread she wanted for her sandwich.
When we have our pot-luck lunches once a month after the main worship service, we are confronted with two kinds of bread. There is the bread (or cake) at lunch that tastes so good, and fills us like the bread in a Subway sandwich. And then there is the bread that is sanctified on the altar to become a sacrament that brings us into the body of Christ. The bread of communion doesn’t satisfy hunger - I know, because I’ve fasted before communion and walked away from the altar hungry. But that’s the point Jesus is making to the people following him, asking for more bread - have faith in him, and by extension for us to have faith in the eucharistic sacrament that feeds us spiritually, faithfully, so that we walk away full of God’s spirit, full of God’s love. Eating ordinary bread will lead to hunger in a few hours, but the sacrament eaten in faith leads to spiritual fullness that lasts. That difference between barley loaves and the bread of life becomes more apparent on those pot-luck Sundays, where one gives us the strength to find faith in Jesus, while the other sustains that faith. We don’t have a choice of bread as much as we have an understanding that we are fed in two different ways, with two different kinds of bread.
Jessica’s hunger would be satisfied by her sandwich and a drink, but feeding her body wasn’t enough. Her soul needed to be fed as well, so I offered to pay for her ID. All she had to do was wait for me around that time of day, and have faith that I would be there. This is the answer that Jesus gave the crowd at Capernaum when they asked what did they have to do to perform the works of God. Eating bread and fish was the easy part, but having faith in someone that you are depending on for salvation was a lot harder, both to accept and to do. But this is the work we are called to do everyday, both to have faith, and to build faith in others. It starts when we receive the sacrament of Jesus’ body during the Eucharist, and are renewed in spirit and in faith, and continues when we offer bread to others as a sacrament, and ask them to eat it in faith. A sandwich for a homeless woman, sitting quietly with someone in emotional distress, helping someone move to a new home, paying for someone else’s laundry at a laundromat, loving the unloved or unlovable; these are all bread that we can offer to those looking for it, and if we’re going to offer it, it has to be accompanied by faith. We have to give them a reason to have faith, and that faith starts by making it clear that what we do is from unconditional, unselfish love for them. Our actions and words become sacraments themselves that can feed the souls of those in need. That’s what Jesus did when he fed the five thousand, and that’s why the five thousand followed him. His words were a sacrament, not the bread he gave them, and he called on them to understand the difference. They just had to get past the bread to the hard work of having faith in Jesus, who he was, and what he was offering.
I haven’t seen Jessica since the day I bought a meal for her. I understand that from her point of view, there was no reason to believe that I would be looking for her, ready to go the DMV and pay for her ID card. She may not have understood or been ready for the implications of having faith in someone. She may not have seen the path before her to salvation from hunger and homelessness, from aimlessness and hopelessness. But maybe, maybe she will remember the kindness of a stranger, and she will find it a little easier to believe in someone else when they offer her their bread. There are many people around us like Jessica, and not all of them poor, or homeless, or both. They are hungry in spirit, and we have an opportunity to feed them. What kind of bread do you have to offer them? What sacrament can you give them to encourage hope and faith within them?
At the end of a winter workday, I left my building and headed for my car parked three blocks away. A young woman met me halfway down the first block, and she asked for money. This was not new; this happened about once a month in the first four years I worked downtown. My response has changed from “I’m sorry, I don’t have any change for you” to “When was the last time you had something to eat?” Almost always, the response is a polite “I’m fine. Thanks.” and they move on. But this woman replied that she hadn’t eaten anything since the previous day. I asked her what her name was, and she said “Jessica.” She had probably spent a good part of the day around the city center, hoping to find someone to take pity on her.
Jesus said to the people who had followed him to Capernaum “You are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves.” He gets right to the point of calling them out because they were looking for more food, something, anything, to relieve their hunger and make them feel better. These people weren’t part of Jesus’ closest followers, they instead lived in the area. They were smart as well, because they had watched the disciples leave in a boat to cross the Sea of Galilee without Jesus, and figured out that he was meeting the disciples on the other side. They hired boats and left for Capernaum, driven by the experience that they had had the previous day, of eating bread and fish. It didn’t matter to them that Jesus had fed five thousand of them starting with just five loaves and two fish.
When Jessica had said that she hadn’t eaten in almost a day, I asked if I could buy her a meal. Many of the restaurants in eyesight had already closed, and the only nearby restaurant still open was a Subway sandwich shop. She said that would be ok with her. As we walked, she recounted where she was from, and how she had ended up homeless. Jessica was notable for two reasons: one because she was a young woman on the street, where most of the homeless and panhandlers I’ve seen are men over the age of 30, and two because she didn’t produce a flood of rehearsed words recounting her misfortune and being the victim of something or someone. She was being honest, even if she wasn’t telling her whole story.
In Capernaum, Jesus again challenges the crowd around him to “not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you.” He addresses the disconnect between the bread he offered that satisfied their hunger and the bread he was offering them right there that would feed their soul. They wanted their stomachs to be full again, but Jesus was saying “No, I’m not here to fill your stomach. I’m here to fill your heart.” And they must have heard him, because their response was “What must we do to perform the works of God?” But they didn’t quite get it, because they next ask for a sign to show that Jesus is doing God’s work. You can almost hear John slap his forehead as he wrote this story. They couldn’t see the miracle for all of the bread crumbs left behind, and they couldn’t see that Jesus was offering them something far more valuable than food. He was offering wisdom; he was offering purpose; he was offering salvation to the world hungry for for forgiveness and the peace that follows it. But the crowd didn’t understand the difference between barley loaves and the bread of life.
As we approached Subway, Jessica mentioned that she had an application to get a state ID card, and with an ID card, she could start looking for a job. But she needed money to get the card. At the door to Subway, she was a step ahead and held it open for me, but once inside we reversed roles and I told her to get whatever she wanted. The first question from the counter person to her was what kind of bread she wanted for her sandwich.
When we have our pot-luck lunches once a month after the main worship service, we are confronted with two kinds of bread. There is the bread (or cake) at lunch that tastes so good, and fills us like the bread in a Subway sandwich. And then there is the bread that is sanctified on the altar to become a sacrament that brings us into the body of Christ. The bread of communion doesn’t satisfy hunger - I know, because I’ve fasted before communion and walked away from the altar hungry. But that’s the point Jesus is making to the people following him, asking for more bread - have faith in him, and by extension for us to have faith in the eucharistic sacrament that feeds us spiritually, faithfully, so that we walk away full of God’s spirit, full of God’s love. Eating ordinary bread will lead to hunger in a few hours, but the sacrament eaten in faith leads to spiritual fullness that lasts. That difference between barley loaves and the bread of life becomes more apparent on those pot-luck Sundays, where one gives us the strength to find faith in Jesus, while the other sustains that faith. We don’t have a choice of bread as much as we have an understanding that we are fed in two different ways, with two different kinds of bread.
Jessica’s hunger would be satisfied by her sandwich and a drink, but feeding her body wasn’t enough. Her soul needed to be fed as well, so I offered to pay for her ID. All she had to do was wait for me around that time of day, and have faith that I would be there. This is the answer that Jesus gave the crowd at Capernaum when they asked what did they have to do to perform the works of God. Eating bread and fish was the easy part, but having faith in someone that you are depending on for salvation was a lot harder, both to accept and to do. But this is the work we are called to do everyday, both to have faith, and to build faith in others. It starts when we receive the sacrament of Jesus’ body during the Eucharist, and are renewed in spirit and in faith, and continues when we offer bread to others as a sacrament, and ask them to eat it in faith. A sandwich for a homeless woman, sitting quietly with someone in emotional distress, helping someone move to a new home, paying for someone else’s laundry at a laundromat, loving the unloved or unlovable; these are all bread that we can offer to those looking for it, and if we’re going to offer it, it has to be accompanied by faith. We have to give them a reason to have faith, and that faith starts by making it clear that what we do is from unconditional, unselfish love for them. Our actions and words become sacraments themselves that can feed the souls of those in need. That’s what Jesus did when he fed the five thousand, and that’s why the five thousand followed him. His words were a sacrament, not the bread he gave them, and he called on them to understand the difference. They just had to get past the bread to the hard work of having faith in Jesus, who he was, and what he was offering.
I haven’t seen Jessica since the day I bought a meal for her. I understand that from her point of view, there was no reason to believe that I would be looking for her, ready to go the DMV and pay for her ID card. She may not have understood or been ready for the implications of having faith in someone. She may not have seen the path before her to salvation from hunger and homelessness, from aimlessness and hopelessness. But maybe, maybe she will remember the kindness of a stranger, and she will find it a little easier to believe in someone else when they offer her their bread. There are many people around us like Jessica, and not all of them poor, or homeless, or both. They are hungry in spirit, and we have an opportunity to feed them. What kind of bread do you have to offer them? What sacrament can you give them to encourage hope and faith within them?
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