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| Basket of Bread, Salvador Dali |
A sermon preached at the Sung Eucharist at St Stephen Walbrook on Thursday 26th August 2021 based on readings from Ephesians 6:10-20 and John 6:56-69.
Good News in a Nutshell
Our history is full of events that remind us that bread can change the world. The Great Fire of London, the anniversary of which falls next week, is one example. In the Gospel reading, Jesus again tells the disciples that he is the living bread that came down from heaven. He asks them if this sounds offensive. Many decide to turn away. Peter and the twelve apostles continue to follow Jesus, responding to Jesus’s question with a question of their own – where else can they go? An inspiring response! But would we answer Jesus so confidently? The gospel reading affirms and reassures all those who have the confidence to question. The answer to every question we can ever ask is in the living bread that we share at the Eucharist. A reminder that it’s not just in history that bread can change the world – but in the present too.
Transcript of Sermon
City leaders wondering if and when people would ever return.
Unprecedented demands on the public purse; fears of a financial meltdown.
Economic recovery affected by costly quarrels with Europe.
Just some of the consequences of the Great Fire of London, the anniversary of which falls a week today.
Concern about an unsustainable number of refugees.
Debates about the true death toll - the “real” impact of the catastrophe.
Urban myths circulating about its cause, leading to heightened xenophobia and attacks on foreigners.
Consequences which remind us that whatever century we live in, our journey through this transitory life confronts us with suffering, injustice, sin - and death.
We now know that the Great Fire was caused not by French or Dutch immigrants but by an accident at the bakery of Thomas Farriner, who produced large quantities of double-baked Ships Biskits - what some (perhaps rather euphemistically) describe as ‘unleavened bread’ for the Royal Navy.
A reminder, from our local history, that bread can change the world.
Today’s gospel reading concludes a long section in which bread has been the subject of much discussion. It began with the Miracle of the Five Loaves and Two Fish - the Feeding of the Five Thousand. Then, the day after everyone has been fed, with food to spare, Jesus declares to the multitude “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” But even after witnessing that miracle on the mountainside at first hand, the people find Jesus’s words difficult to swallow.
So, while teaching in the synagogue, he tries to explain once more. Jesus returns again to the account of an event in the history of Israel, deeply embedded in Jewish culture and practice, when bread changed the world. But, he explains, unlike the the manna from heaven - that divine form of ships biskit that sustained the Israelites during their long journey through the wilderness, he is the true bread - and that all those who eat his flesh and drink his blood will be sustained for a much longer journey - a journey to eternal life, in which we will abide in Him forever.
It’s not hard to imagine why this might have made some of those listening in the synagogue feel rather uncomfortable - as Jesus knew it would - but he asks them nonetheless “Does this offend you?”
In fact the passage contains numerous questions; some expressed, some rhetorical and some implied.
The word we often use to describe that heavenly bread - manna - is itself derived from a question - the Hebrew translation of “What is it?” - the words of the Israelites when they first encountered the life-saving substance.
After many of the disciples had finally turned away from Jesus in the synagogue, he turns to the twelve apostles and asks them: “Do you also wish to go away?’”
Simon Peter’s response starts with a further question “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.”
The Apostles’ masterly reply is inspiring - but also challenging, raising a multitude of our own questions - not least – would we answer Jesus with such confidence?
I think we all know, deep down, that our endless pursuit for the bread of this world - whatever that may mean for each of us - will never truly satisfy our fundamental hunger - our hunger for love - the love that was revealed to the world - and that Peter recognised - in the Holy One of God. The love from which we were created, to which we are called to return, and in which we are commanded to abide together.
But nevertheless perhaps there are times when we question this belief – whether we might be among the many who “went away” from Jesus.
Our Gospel reading affirms - reassures - those who have the confidence to face questions like these.
Spiritual writers through the ages assure us that the journey of discipleship - following the way of Jesus – is likely to lead us back to difficult questions; we need not fear them.
It is from the horrors of the Second World War that the book “Sleeping with Bread” takes its title; recalling how children in refugee camps found peace through sleeping with small pieces of bread - taking away their fear of once again being homeless with nothing to eat.
A reminder, from our recent history, that bread can change the world.
Based on a form of daily prayer initiated by the founder of the Jesuits, the book sets out a method for reviewing our journey of discipleship each day, posing two questions and training us to answer them in a way which is challenging but transformative;
When did I give and receive the most love today?
When did I give and receive the least love today?
Our hymns and liturgy also affirm the benefits of a questioning attitude. Contrasting the great glory of God with our own limitations we sing today - “How shall I sing that majesty?” “Who am I?” to even attempt to address the Almighty in song?
The answer is perhaps closer than we think, found in the question itself.
Who am I?
A reflection of the great “I am.”
We are all made in the image of God; whose time, as the hymn reminds us “is now and evermore”, whose “place is everywhere” - found even - perhaps especially - in our questions.
As anyone with responsibility for looking after an inquisitive child on a long journey will know, addressing questions continually can be exhilarating and exhausting!
Scripture points us to spiritual resources to help us along the way.
The writer of the Letter to the Ephesians recommends that we don a very particular form of personal protective equipment - the shield of faith, the shoes of peace, the breastplate of righteousness – the armour of God – one-size-fits-all - for disciples of every age as we journey through the suffering, injustice and death of this transitory life, towards eternal life - and love - in Christ.
Jesus offers his life to sustain us on this journey - the true bread that we are about to share – in which we are given the chance to taste and see a glimpse of the love that is the answer to every question we can ever ask – and gain a foretaste of the heavenly banquet to come; the end of our journey.
One final question. Do we deserve this bread? Our prayers remind us that while “We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under [The Lord’s] table”, by eating the flesh and drinking the blood of Christ, “our sinful bodies may be made clean by his body, and our souls washed through his most precious blood, and that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us.”
A reminder today - in the here and now – that true bread can change the world.
Through the love of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.
Amen
Image : Basket of Bread by Salvador Dali, 1945
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