John 6:24-35
So when the crowds saw that neither Jesus nor the 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 lake, they said to him, “Rabbi, when did you come here?” Jesus answered them, “Very truly I tell you, you did not come looking for me because you saw the signs, but because you had your fill of the loaves. Do not work for the bread that perishes, but work for the bread that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you. For it is upon him whom God, the Father, has set his seal.”
They said to him, “What must we do to perform the works of God?” He said to them, “This is the work of God: that you believe in him whom he has sent.” They said to him, “Then what sign will you give us so that we might see and believe? What works are you performing? Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, for it is written, ‘he gave them bread from Heaven to eat.’”
Jesus said to them, “It was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven to eat, but my Father who gives the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God 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. Whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”
More than once this week, due to some confusion or miscommunication about who was supposed to be where, when – we had a couple of campers who didn’t get picked up on time after our Camp at Church events. Most kids don’t like to be the last one in the building, of course, killing time with the grown-ups, twiddling their thumbs, waiting, wondering, worrying about where mom and dad might be… what’s taking them so long… how much longer they’ll have to wait, and so on. And the longer the wait, the greater their anxiety and worry grow.
While I was making phone calls and sending texts and starting to wonder and worry a bit, myself in each case, I just kept assuring the kids that someone was coming, that everything was fine, that Mom and Dad were probably just stuck in traffic, or had the time wrong, or got trapped at work. “TRUST ME,” I said. Everything is fine. Someone will be here, soon. (And I prayed to Jesus I was telling the truth.)
Because other than those words and my high hopes, I had nothing else to offer these kids. No proof to show. No evidence to offer. No sign to give that they should, in fact, trust me. And it made me think about the crowds who were following Jesus around – still and again – in this morning’s Gospel, looking for a sign of their own.
See, these crowds following Jesus – listening to him preach and teach and heal, wondering about what he was up to – they wanted to know why they should believe in him; why they should follow him anywhere. And they remembered that event back in the Old Testament, their ancestors were wandering around in the wilderness, hungry and thirsty and lost and not so sure they should be following and believing the leader they had in Moses. So the people around Jesus were saying, “Back in the day, there were signs. There was proof. There was evidence that Moses was God’s mouthpiece; that God was God, after all.”
“As it is written, ‘Moses gave them bread from heaven to eat,’” they were saying to Jesus.
In other words, “They got a sign. We should get a sign.” “They got bread. We should get bread.” “They got manna in the wilderness. We should get us some manna.”
“How can I know, for sure, that Mommy or Daddy are coming to get me? What sign can you give me?” (Whether it was 15 minutes or 45, the waiting seemed interminable for those kiddos)
And I can’t tell you the number of times people have told me how much they have longed for a sign – how much they have needed a sign – in order to know where God was calling them, for sure; how God was part of their life, for sure; what in the world God was up to or might be trying to teach them.
Should I take that job or quit this one? If God would just give me a sign so I’d know for sure.
Should I get into this relationship or get out of that one? If only God would give me a sign then I’d know for sure.
Should I choose this college or that one? If only God would give me a sign so I’d know for sure.
Where is the sign that I can endure this struggle? Where is the sign that the cancer won’t win? Where is the sign that I can stop worrying? Where is the proof that any of this is worth it? Where is the sign – the thing – I can see and touch and feel – the cold, hard, something I can grasp – to let me know for sure?
And I do it myself, with stuff around here, too. I’d like a sign that this pandemic will be over soon and clearer guidance about how to move forward in the face of it. And where is the sign about how we should proceed with staffing for a band leader or for someone to tend to the youth? And some signs about what to do after we pay off our mortgage would be nice, too. Where is the sign that we’re following the right lead; doing the right thing; investing in the right ministry and programs and people and places?
Don’t we all still feel like a kid, after camp, some days, waiting for proof that someone’s there or on the way to save us?
The thing is, none of us know much of anything for sure these days, do we? We want a sign… some proof… some evidence… whatever. But that’s not really what we need.
So, what Jesus reminded his friends and followers – and all those who were looking for a sign in this Gospel story – was that “the sign” – the manna in the wilderness wasn’t the point for those early ancestors. It could have been bread or water. It could have been pizza or Pepsi. What “the sign” was didn’t matter nearly as much as the source of it all in the first place: God’s love and devotion, God’s commitment to and presence with God’s people.
See, back in the day, people missed the sign – the very presence of God – standing before them in Jesus, himself. “I am the true bread from heaven,” he assured them, broken and poured out, in the flesh, for the sake of the world. What they really missed through it all – and what we miss or forget too much of the time – is that we have all the sign we need right here in front of us.
We gather for worship because, here, we stand in the presence of our baptism’s water. And we will eat bread and we will drink wine, too – all more than just signs, of what matters most, but the very real presence of what matters most – for this life and the next. This water, this bread, this wine – are reminders for us that we have all we need, already, because of God’s very real and present love for us.
Nothing that I could share with the kids who were waiting for their parents after camp mattered until their parents actually walked in the door – not that I’d gotten a text or left a message or even news that Mom was on the way. What really mattered was when they saw Mom pull into the parking lot or walk into my office with a smile on her face.
When the sickness comes; if the cancer wins; when the fear is so great; as the doubts pile up; when the uncertainties overwhelm us; when there are more questions than answers; when the grief is too heavy; when the loneliness is too real; when the end is near, even; we are called back to the water and we are invited back to the table to be received and filled up by the very real presence of God’s love for us in Jesus.
And we are blessed, in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. We are fed with the Bread of Life, who endures all things, hopes all things, believes all things, bears all things. We receive and share the very love, promise, and hope of God – with each other, for the sake of the world – promises like the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting, just to name a few.
Amen
