John 1:35-42

The next day John again was standing with two of his disciples, 36 and as he watched Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, "Look, here is the Lamb of God!" 37 The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. 38 When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, "What are you looking for?" They said to him, "Rabbi" (which translated means Teacher), "where are you staying?" 39 He said to them, "Come and see." They came and saw where he was staying, and they remained with him that day. It was about four o'clock in the afternoon. 40 One of the two who heard John speak and followed him was Andrew, Simon Peter's brother. 41 He first found his brother Simon and said to him, "We have found the Messiah" (which is translated Anointed ). 42 He brought Simon to Jesus, who looked at him and said, "You are Simon son of John. You are to be called Cephas" (which is translated Peter).

Today’s gospel tells of a pair of John’s disciples who leave their teacher behind in order to follow Jesus, the new rabbi on the scene. One of these new disciples is so moved by his first day with Jesus that he goes and recruits another disciple to follow Jesus. The gospel’s message for us today is right there on the surface: our call as disciples is to be drawn so deeply into the loving presence of Christ that we go and share that invitation to others. That’s my whole sermon, summed up, so you can tune out for the rest if you desire; but you’ll probably want to hear the case study I’m going to share with you.

I’ve managed to experience a lifetime in a Lutheran congregation, four years at a Christian university, and four years of seminary without hearing the name Julian of Norwich. Through my spiritual formation classes I have recently been introduced to her and I am excited to tell you about Julian this morning because she provides a fascinating entry to explore just what it means to desire and follow God.

Julian of Norwich lived as a Benedictine nun in the late-14th and early-15th centuries. Much of her life was spent as an anchoress, meaning that she lived outside the church in a tiny stone structure that was completely sealed up. There was one opening to the outside through which items could be passed and people could come and converse with her. There was also something called a squint--a narrow vertical opening that permitted a view of nothing but the altar, which is a powerful image of how one can focus one’s life on God alone. I realize this might not be the best way to describe someone who we are to emulate, as I don’t know how many of you find this lifestyle appealing, but hear me out.

When Julian was six years old the Black Plague made its way to England for the first time. Entire communities were decimated. The first epidemic lasted three years and claimed the lives of 3/4 of the population of Norwich. The plague was a brutal and disgusting disease. Everyone who survived was traumatized from the experience of witnessing the disease decimate their families and communities. Through this time Christianity remained the primary religion in the region. Think for a moment what you would believe about God if you were raised in an environment filled with that much suffering, death, and destruction. Most believed that their suffering was brought on by the actions of a wrathful God. The people assumed that God meant to wipe them out due to their sin, just as in the days of the Biblical flood.

Out of this environment Julian felt a desire to know God better, which I think is a miraculous sentiment. I can’t imagine desiring to become better acquainted with a wrathful God who was presumed to be responsible for the death and destruction that literally plagued the world. Specifically, Julian desired three things from God: 1) to understand the cross; 2) to overcome her fear of God’s judgment; and 3) to trust God more. Julian served as a nun and waited for ten years before receiving a revelation from God that would address her questions and situate her as one of the most cherished Christian mystics.

“On May 13th, 1373, Julian was succumbing to a disease thought to be the plague. Her breathing became ragged; she was barely alive. Julian asked her mother to help her sit up to ease her breathing. When the priest arrived, he held up a crucifix for Julian to gaze upon for comfort as he administered Last Rites and prayed for her soul. With effort, Julian focused on the cross. Then her sight appeared to be failing; she could see nothing but the cross alone. A bright light shone on the figure of Jesus, like sunlight through a window, but she could not identify its source.

‘This is death,’ she thought, as a great weight seemed to press upon her chest.

Then, in an instant, the pain vanished like the lifting of a curtain! And the figure on the cross before her started to bleed! It bled freely, as the image came alive and Jesus looked at her. And thus began a ten-hour conversation with Jesus which addressed humanity’s deepest questions about sin, suffering and grace.“*

She would fully recover from her illness and set to work writing down everything she experienced during her ten-hour revelation.This would end up as the work Revelations of Divine Love. Her experience deserves more than a one-word summary, but I don’t think she would mind if I summarized her experience as joyful.

Her experience of God was joyful because she received insight into God’s sufferings and his love for us. “Julian’s message remains one of hope and trust in God, whose compassionate love is always given to us. In this all-gracious God there can be no element of wrath. The wrath — ‘all that is contrary to peace and love — is in us and not in God. God’s saving work in Jesus of Nazareth and in the gift of God's spirit, is to counteract our wrath in the power of his merciful and compassionate love'. Julian did not perceive God as blaming or judging us, but as enfolding us in love.”**

Julian writes that at one point during her experience of God’s revelation God showed her a hazelnut. “In this little thing I saw three properties. The first is that God made it, the second is that God loves it, the third is that God preserves it.” This vision showed Julian God’s identity as Creator, protector, and lover. She goes on to write, “For until I am substantially united to him, I can never have perfect rest or true happiness, until, that is, I am so attached to him that there can be no created thing between my God and me.”

In the context of abhorrent death and destruction, of a wrathful God determined to destroy humankind, and of her very own demise, Julian received a vision of God’s goodness and love. Through the vision God taught her that sin would not have the final word. This led her to write down a sentence that I hope you will cherish: “Though sin is inevitable, all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”

I began this message by telling you where I would end up: that our call as disciples is to be drawn so deeply into the loving presence of Christ that we go and share that invitation to others. If our heart's desire is to know God better, it will happen. Christ will be revealed to us. The revelation of God in Christ will change the course of our lives. And people will desperately want to know more about the God of grace, love, and truth whom we have encountered.

Julian of Norwich has been someone who points me toward the loving presence of Christ. Her testimony makes me want to encounter God in new and profound ways, so that I can come to believe for myself that “though sin is inevitable, all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”

Amen.

* Mimi Dixon, “The Contemplative Stream: Julian of Norwich” (lecture, Renovaré Institute of Christian Spiritual Formation), November 19, 2020.
** http://juliancentre.org/about/about-julian-of-norwich.html

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.

I don’t like talking about Jesus.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Jesus; and I feel called to a vocation which has “proclaiming God’s Word” as its primary responsibility. I just find it awkward to talk about him…especially with people outside of our Cross of Grace family.

Generally one of two things will happen when I end up talking about Jesus with someone:

Typically what happens is that the word “Jesus” (or “church”, or “pastor”) brings the conversation to a screeching halt and I recognize the other person cannot wait to find someone else to talk to.

However, when I find myself talking to someone who also loves Jesus, the conversation often derails for a different reason. About five minutes in we realize we are talking about two very different Jesuses; or rather about two different interpretations of Jesus. Suddenly the other person tries to tell me I’m wrong, or starts looking for someone else to talk to.

The problem with the Jesus that I believe in and love is that he’s rather odd-sounding.

I’ll demonstrate by telling you what I believe is true about Jesus:

Jesus is one of the three formations of the true and eternal divine force that created, designed, and sustains the universe but condensed into a real-life, flesh-and-blood human being who was born from a virgin and lived two-thousand years ago as a brown-skinned middle-eastern Jewish man.

He was trained as a rabbi and led a righteous life that was a beautiful expression of the Hebrew prophets’ call to bring good news to those who are marginalized by the oppressive political and religious structures of the day. He performed inexplicable miracles, hung out with society’s worst of the worst, and invited people into a new way of seeing the world by telling stories that few people understood.

He never said he was God, but others started saying it. But there were others, however, thought he was completely offensive and a disgrace. This put him at the cross-hairs of the powers and principalities. Realizing something bad was going to happen to him soon, he told his disciples that he would be executed and raised back to life. He promised to be with them every time they shared a meal, even claiming that the bread they would eat would be his body and the wine they would drink would be his blood. Sure enough he was arrested, convicted, and executed. And sure enough, three days after his death he emerged from the tomb full of life. He stuck around long enough to scare his disciples, eat some grilled fish, and then ascend into heaven.

Imagine you didn’t know anything about Jesus until you heard that. What do you think about that answer?

You now see why I try to avoid talking about Jesus. Any answer I give sounds weird and, frankly, unreal. The reality of Jesus, as it turns out, is hard to grasp and even harder to put into words. Fortunately, our task is not to understand Jesus; our task isn’t even to talk about Jesus; rather, our duty and delight is to experience Jesus and invite others to experience him as well.

Recall the story from today’s gospel lesson. The crowds are incredibly impressed by Jesus, even though they fail to understand what he’s doing and saying. The crowd wants bread for their bellies; Jesus offers them bread from heaven. The crowd wants to know how to act; Jesus tells them what to believe. They are confused. Intellectually, they just can’t quite gasp who Jesus is and what he’s saying. But nevertheless, they are moved through their encounter with Jesus. Being in the presence of Jesus moves them to pray in spite of their confusion, “Sir, give us this bread always.”

I am under the impression that most of us have little interest in telling someone about Jesus. It could be that you see such a conversation as a violation of someone’s privacy. Or perhaps you are not confident that you know enough about Jesus to be an effective ambassador. However, what we should all desire is to help people encounter Jesus – the way, the truth, and the life, and to see them moved to prayer.

Jesus says he is the bread of life. Even though we don’t quite understand what he’s talking about, this much is clear: we could starve to death without Jesus.

Jesus says he is the bread of life; which, I guess means Jesus is “soul food.”

Soul food reminds me of a special place in downtown Phoenix, Arizona called Mrs. White’s Golden Rule Café. I went there for the first time about 20 years ago along with my uncle and grandfather when we were visiting my grandparents, who lived in Arizona. My grandfather was a wonderful man, but let’s just say that he was “old fashioned” (to put it politely) regarding issues of race. Had he known that Mrs. White’s Golden Rule Café was a soul food restaurant and that we would be the only white people in there, I doubt he would have walked in. But, my uncle, in his ornery way, convinced him to check it out by omitting certain details.

So, there we were in a small cinderblock building. The menu was scribbled on the wall and it included things I could never imagine eating. I specifically remember ox tail and pigs feet being on the menu. I stuck with the safe standards: fried chicken, greens swimming in bacon fat, mashed potatoes, and my first piece of sweet potato pie. It was one of the best meals I had eaten. My grandfather was equally impressed. So much so, that the next week he took his wife to Mrs. White’s. And a few weeks later, they started taking their friends from church to Mrs. White’s.
Had either my grandfather or I demanded to be told about Mrs. White’s ahead of time, neither of us would have gone – I would have wanted pizza, and my grandfather would have wanted to go where there were fewer black people. And yet, our experience of soul food was one that had a profound effect on each of us.

We, as Christ’s body, as called to provide “soul food” for the world. Not the fried chicken, sweet potato, collard greens kind of soul food (although that’s the stuff that probably can heal the world); but the other, more important soul food – the one that invites people to not simply learn about Jesus, but to experience what it is like to be loved by the son of God – the one who gave up everything so that we would be loved and truly free.

Just as there are people who insist they don’t like soul food, even though they’ve never tried it; there are people who insist they don’t like church, even though they’ve never tried it. Do we chastise these brothers and sisters? Do we ostracize them? Ignore them? Fight them? Fear them? Do we attempt to educate them?

We don’t need to talk about Jesus. Instead, let’s start by asking them if they’re hungry. Because we have soul food to feed them. We offer the bread and wine – Christ’s tangible and eternal forgiveness, peace and love. If you’ve never tried that, you don’t know what you’re missing. And if you’ve had it, you know that you need to share it with others.

Amen.