John 6: 24 – 35
8/2/2009

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             In this text, which contains the first "I am" speech of Jesus in the gospel of John, Jesus offers not merely physical sustenance but ongoing spiritual nourishment for those who receive the gifts he offers and believe that he is indeed the one sent by God for the redemption of the world.

Our physical hunger is easily satisfied these days in America. No matter how busy we are, we can find food quickly — fast-food chain hamburgers and tacos, convenience-store hot dogs, sacks of potato chips and cookies, candy bars, mass-made cupcakes — all within easy reach in our urban and suburban areas. We buy them quickly; we consume them just as quickly in our cars, our offices, around kitchen tables already loaded with the mail and the trash from previous rapidly eaten meals. We are so busy that we seldom have time to eat with others. We fill our stomachs, lessen our hunger, and run to the next challenge of the day. Few and far between are the meals shared with families and friends; few and far between are genuine eating experiences in which nutritious food, nourishing laughter and sustaining life are shared around a table.

In Taiwan, a country known for its rich varieties of food, the people also have little time to gather with loved ones and actually enjoy eating food together. But when they do, the meal quickly becomes an occasion. First, families in Taiwan, as in most East Asian countries, gather around round tables in which everyone can share, in equal reach of chopsticks, the bounty placed in the middle. Platters of steamed fish and spicy chicken, plates of tofu with vegetables stir-fried in garlic and ginger, bowls full of soup, noodles and rice — all these dishes and more fill the table. It is very bad manners to interrupt a meal partner’s eating pleasure by asking that food be passed; everyone simply reaches across the table for whatever he or she wants. And together the friends or family members, or best of all — both, chatter and laugh until all have received enough. Not only do they talk about their lives and their work, they discuss food — the food that is before them, the food they ate yesterday, the food they are anticipating. They critique and judge, analyze and argue over flavors, consistencies, temperatures, ingredients. With all this focus on food, the meal becomes an "eating experience" to be relished and enjoyed by all who sit at the table.

As important as food is in Taiwan today, it was just as important to the crowds that followed Jesus centuries ago. In fact, it was probably more important, because the people with whom Jesus talked and worked had so much less to eat from day to day. Often they didn’t know if they were going to have anything eat at the next mealtime, much less what it was going to be. This was true, not only because the people with Jesus had left home and livelihood to go with him, but because even at home there wasn’t much to eat. The peasants of Galilee and Judea depended upon whatever they could coax out of the earth or the sea, whatever they could buy cheaply in local markets, or whatever they could hide from marauding bands of Roman soldiers or local rebels. Even if they had a few coins to trade for food, the lack of refrigeration or modern preservatives ensured that whatever was obtained must be eaten quickly.

Yet Jesus seemed to be changing this food scarcity, the single most significant factor of their daily existence. The day before he engages in this almost non-sequitur conversation with the crowds, he had fed them. With five barley loaves and two fish, as John tells the story, Jesus had provided a great feast for a great crowd, and there were even leftovers. For these poor, hungry people, it was a significant event, a miracle, an eating experience, just as it would have been for any of us fortunate enough to have been there.

So who wouldn’t join the chase after Jesus and his disciples the very next day after the discovery that they had slipped away in the middle of the night? Who wouldn’t want to see a repeat performance? Who wouldn’t want another meal at which all could eat until they were full?

When the people find Jesus, he knows before they even open their mouths what they are thinking. "Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves." These are the first words he says as he completely ignores their question about the time of his arrival. In disregarding their polite conversation opener, he cuts to the chase, speaking aloud their very thoughts about hunger and satisfaction. And in an effort to get them to see beyond their stomachs, he continues, "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."

It is at this point of the story that all of us sitting in this room are invited to place ourselves into the events. Most of us are simply not physically hungry, unless we forgot or didn’t have time to eat breakfast this morning. We have easy access to food even if we don’t take every opportunity to get it. But we are just as spiritually hungry as those Galileans who ran after Jesus. And this spiritual hunger has led us, at the very least, to leave a comfortable bed in a cool house this morning, and at the very most, to make sacrifices out of our own commitments to pursuing Jesus. We, too, may have left behind job opportunities, financial rewards, even valued friendships to follow the way of Jesus. For we have known what it means to yearn for something better or deeper in our lives than the pursuit of a handful of chocolates, a bag of chips or any other fleeting culinary pleasure. We have caught a glimpse of Jesus or his handiwork in our lives and we want to see more, to taste more, to know more. So we, too, have followed him to this place.

Yet, like those people of the first century, in our attempt to assuage that spiritual hunger, we also have often missed the true meaning of the food that Jesus has to offer. We have often chased after the wrong things in our quest for it. We pursue information and knowledge, not wisdom; we pursue the approval of our friends or fellow church members and not the grace of God; we pursue churches with the most entertaining worship and the most status, and not opportunities to serve the people of God. And when we get these things, we think we are satisfied, full. We think our spiritual hunger has been met. But we are wrong.

The crowd huddled around Jesus was beginning to understand that he was not talking simply about loaves and fishes or any other physical need. They were beginning to realize that Jesus was pointing to something of everlasting significance in their relationship with God. So they asked, "What must we do to perform the works of God?" And Jesus answered, "This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent."

There are no herculean tasks to be accomplished, no mighty feats of heroism. There are no mind-stumping exam questions, no tests of skill or cleverness, no prizes of first or second place. Such a simple answer, Jesus offers, yet much easier to say than to do. For this belief requires all our attention, all our trust, all our loyalty, all our love.

The people around Jesus struggled mightily to wriggle out of such all-consuming belief. "Give us a sign," they demand, "just like Moses gave manna to the Israelites." But Jesus will have none of their rationalizing, or ours. After reminding them that it was not Moses but God who gave the manna in the wilderness, he pressed his point: God can provide so much more than earthly bread. God provides the true bread, the food that fills our souls and satisfies our lives. "For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world." And just in case they, and we, missed the point, he adds, "I am the bread of life."

As most of us may have noticed, there is no institution of the Lord’s Supper in this gospel. To be sure, John reports that the disciples and Jesus gathered in a room together where Jesus washed their feet and said a few words of goodbye. But he reports nothing about a meal or words like "this is my body," and "this is my blood," at least not at the farewell scene. No, John reports it here. In Jesus’ invitation to believe that he himself is the Bread of Life is found an invitation to his feast and to his life. And he extends the invitation not just to those hungry Galileans, but to those of us who are hungry, who yearn for the bread Jesus offers always, who yearn only to do the work of believing.

In Taiwan, even after years of abundance, the first greeting people give to friends and family before mealtimes are these words, "Have you eaten yet?" Any time Taiwanese people encounter a friend or loved one before noon or 5 in the afternoon, they say it — "Have you eaten yet?" Some say the question is perfunctory, overused and meaningless. But others disagree. They say it is an expression of a basic concern for one another, a way of saying I care about you and whether or not you have the food you need to sustain your life.

Jesus is asking the very same question with the very same meaning of all of us, "Have you eaten yet?" And he is talking about the food that he has to offer, his very self, that we receive only and always by believing in him. By the grace of God, let us answer "Yes, yes, we have eaten." Let it be so.