Flesh For Our Life
Sermon
Fringe, Front and Center
Sermons For Sundays After Pentecost (Middle Third)
Once again our Lord tells us, "I am the living bread that came down from heaven." "Bread of life" -- that metaphor sums up all that Jesus said and did. "Whoever eats of this bread will live forever," Jesus says. That "eating" metaphor about the "bread" metaphor describes our grasp of faith by which we appropriate for ourselves all that God-in-Christ has said and done for us. Now Jesus tells us more: "The bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh." That is what he said. And all that he has done for us began when "the Word became flesh and lived among us" (John 1:14). That flesh was real. Ask Mary who first checked the toes on the little feet of the Holy Child and felt the tight grasp of his hand. Our Lord Jesus, the Son of God in our flesh, revealed God's glorious love in what he said and in what he did. What he said he was able to say only because he was made flesh. What he did he was able to do only because he was made flesh. Jesus is our Savior in the flesh. He gave that flesh, he gave himself for the life of the world.
People were put off by what he said -- words about being "the bread of life" and "coming down from heaven." But they were drawn to him by what he did. Remember: "I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself" (John 12:32).
First, think about what he said. This was flesh talking. This was a human tongue in a human body proclaiming. As we listen anew to some things he said, we can feel for these Jews who murmured, "Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, 'I have come down from heaven'?" And, of course, that was not all that gave, that gives, hearers difficulty. He said, "My Father, God, is back of all this. My Father sent me. Only if my Father draws you, can you manage to be on my side. Even the scriptures tell you that when they say you have to be 'taught by God.' You have to hear and learn from the Father, then you can come to me. Not that you can expect to see the Father. Only I can, only I have, I who came from the Father. But, believe me, whoever believes has eternal life. Manna didn't keep your ancestors alive. But I am the bread that comes down from heaven so that one may eat of it and not die."
People were put off by his words. And not only those people. People on the fringes of our crowd here, even people in the front rows, some of the time even people in the center pews murmur, "Can this all really be true?" Popular wisdom has it that "some things just can't be put into words." God doesn't agree, of course. As his Son said, "Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me." God took to himself in his Son human flesh, human nature, the better to put into words his love for his creatures, his plan to reconcile them to himself. Speech is a distinguishing mark of all of us who are of human flesh. The Word was made flesh to give us words of life. We ought to rejoice that God gave us the Word made flesh, that Jesus used his flesh to give us words of life. He said, "I am the bread of life." He gave us himself, in what he said. He gave "his flesh for the life of the world."
Now think about what he did, how God in flesh made God's love real to us by what he did. "No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father," Jesus said. And how did the Father propose to do that drawing? Yes, by a drawing, by a picture worth the Word, by making himself accessible to our sight, to our touch, as well as to our hearing, by living among us in flesh.
Think about that flesh, his flesh, our Lord's flesh. Do you suppose Jesus ever marvelled at his own flesh? He who was both God and man, and knew it. Well, of course we cannot possibly know how he thought about being incarnate as one born in flesh. He who had seen God, had thought it no arrogance to claim equality with God, who had come from God, who was God -- did he ever consider how far beyond all possible human expectation it was for people to experience God walking around on two feet, eating bread, drinking wine, touching a little girl's hand to lift her up alive on her death bed, reaching for the little boy's basket, distributing the bread and fish? What a marvelous creation, a hand...its many bones, its thumb, how it works. But for such a hand to be the hand of the Son of God! Here he was, looking for all the world to be a child of Joseph. All those people knew it: "This is Joseph and Mary's son." He knew it, too. But he knew as well that he was for all the world the Son of God! For all the world! Did he find it astounding to be himself in the flesh? "What is a good God like me doing in a place like this?" If he did, if ever he thought like that about his overlay of flesh, might he also have concluded, "This flesh, my flesh, is given to me so that I can give it for the life of the world"?
Whatever he did, whatever he said, only some believed and followed. Others murmured. That being true in small Palestine, the ratio of those put off to those drawn would no doubt also be true throughout the world as the good news was spread. What would make the love of God in living flesh have even more drawing power? God's answer? God in flesh dying! There could be no greater proof of love than this, that God in flesh would lay down his life for his friends (John 15:13). God, abundant in grace, commended his love to us, while we were sinners, by having his anointed one die, die on a cross. Jesus said, "I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people unto me." God in flesh dying -- how attractive even as it causes us to weep bitterly, how it draws us even though each detail grieves us. Could it be that our Lord thought in some way as the nails were driven into his hands, "This is my flesh, given to me that I can give it for the life of the world? This greater love I am showing to them, laying down my life to make them friends. My flesh...where the thorns pierce; my flesh...my back...my heart breaking at the ridicule, the rejection...my flesh given for the life of the world!"
Flesh must have seemed to his divine nature as something rather expendable, something taken on that could be given away without affecting his being. When Jesus thought of himself in the symbol of bread, something to be given to the hungry and eaten by them, perhaps it seemed but a further image to speak of his flesh as something to be given for the life of the world, as something to be eaten for the forgiveness he took on flesh to gain. No wonder he could say so simply and yet so profoundly, "Take and eat. This is my body given for you." He had been giving it all along.
I would not wish to try to one-up the scriptures, but there is one act of love that would seem to be greater than giving up one's life for one's friends. That would be arising out of that dying and raising up those friends to life eternal. He has done the dying. He has done his own rising. He will follow through with raising us up, now in our time of living and then after our time of dying. As our flesh wearies, as we draw nearer its fate of death, as we know loneliness in our world, in our homes, even in our families, we need not fear or doubt. Remember that he said of those drawn to him by his Father, "I will raise them up on the last day." He knows all the ills our flesh is heir to. He who gave his flesh into death for the life of the world is with us still, in the flesh, though we see him not. He invites us, as he invited his disciples, "Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have" (Luke 24:38-39).
In the flesh, he is with us always. In the flesh, seen by faith, he gives himself still for the life of the world.
People were put off by what he said -- words about being "the bread of life" and "coming down from heaven." But they were drawn to him by what he did. Remember: "I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself" (John 12:32).
First, think about what he said. This was flesh talking. This was a human tongue in a human body proclaiming. As we listen anew to some things he said, we can feel for these Jews who murmured, "Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, 'I have come down from heaven'?" And, of course, that was not all that gave, that gives, hearers difficulty. He said, "My Father, God, is back of all this. My Father sent me. Only if my Father draws you, can you manage to be on my side. Even the scriptures tell you that when they say you have to be 'taught by God.' You have to hear and learn from the Father, then you can come to me. Not that you can expect to see the Father. Only I can, only I have, I who came from the Father. But, believe me, whoever believes has eternal life. Manna didn't keep your ancestors alive. But I am the bread that comes down from heaven so that one may eat of it and not die."
People were put off by his words. And not only those people. People on the fringes of our crowd here, even people in the front rows, some of the time even people in the center pews murmur, "Can this all really be true?" Popular wisdom has it that "some things just can't be put into words." God doesn't agree, of course. As his Son said, "Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me." God took to himself in his Son human flesh, human nature, the better to put into words his love for his creatures, his plan to reconcile them to himself. Speech is a distinguishing mark of all of us who are of human flesh. The Word was made flesh to give us words of life. We ought to rejoice that God gave us the Word made flesh, that Jesus used his flesh to give us words of life. He said, "I am the bread of life." He gave us himself, in what he said. He gave "his flesh for the life of the world."
Now think about what he did, how God in flesh made God's love real to us by what he did. "No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father," Jesus said. And how did the Father propose to do that drawing? Yes, by a drawing, by a picture worth the Word, by making himself accessible to our sight, to our touch, as well as to our hearing, by living among us in flesh.
Think about that flesh, his flesh, our Lord's flesh. Do you suppose Jesus ever marvelled at his own flesh? He who was both God and man, and knew it. Well, of course we cannot possibly know how he thought about being incarnate as one born in flesh. He who had seen God, had thought it no arrogance to claim equality with God, who had come from God, who was God -- did he ever consider how far beyond all possible human expectation it was for people to experience God walking around on two feet, eating bread, drinking wine, touching a little girl's hand to lift her up alive on her death bed, reaching for the little boy's basket, distributing the bread and fish? What a marvelous creation, a hand...its many bones, its thumb, how it works. But for such a hand to be the hand of the Son of God! Here he was, looking for all the world to be a child of Joseph. All those people knew it: "This is Joseph and Mary's son." He knew it, too. But he knew as well that he was for all the world the Son of God! For all the world! Did he find it astounding to be himself in the flesh? "What is a good God like me doing in a place like this?" If he did, if ever he thought like that about his overlay of flesh, might he also have concluded, "This flesh, my flesh, is given to me so that I can give it for the life of the world"?
Whatever he did, whatever he said, only some believed and followed. Others murmured. That being true in small Palestine, the ratio of those put off to those drawn would no doubt also be true throughout the world as the good news was spread. What would make the love of God in living flesh have even more drawing power? God's answer? God in flesh dying! There could be no greater proof of love than this, that God in flesh would lay down his life for his friends (John 15:13). God, abundant in grace, commended his love to us, while we were sinners, by having his anointed one die, die on a cross. Jesus said, "I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people unto me." God in flesh dying -- how attractive even as it causes us to weep bitterly, how it draws us even though each detail grieves us. Could it be that our Lord thought in some way as the nails were driven into his hands, "This is my flesh, given to me that I can give it for the life of the world? This greater love I am showing to them, laying down my life to make them friends. My flesh...where the thorns pierce; my flesh...my back...my heart breaking at the ridicule, the rejection...my flesh given for the life of the world!"
Flesh must have seemed to his divine nature as something rather expendable, something taken on that could be given away without affecting his being. When Jesus thought of himself in the symbol of bread, something to be given to the hungry and eaten by them, perhaps it seemed but a further image to speak of his flesh as something to be given for the life of the world, as something to be eaten for the forgiveness he took on flesh to gain. No wonder he could say so simply and yet so profoundly, "Take and eat. This is my body given for you." He had been giving it all along.
I would not wish to try to one-up the scriptures, but there is one act of love that would seem to be greater than giving up one's life for one's friends. That would be arising out of that dying and raising up those friends to life eternal. He has done the dying. He has done his own rising. He will follow through with raising us up, now in our time of living and then after our time of dying. As our flesh wearies, as we draw nearer its fate of death, as we know loneliness in our world, in our homes, even in our families, we need not fear or doubt. Remember that he said of those drawn to him by his Father, "I will raise them up on the last day." He knows all the ills our flesh is heir to. He who gave his flesh into death for the life of the world is with us still, in the flesh, though we see him not. He invites us, as he invited his disciples, "Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have" (Luke 24:38-39).
In the flesh, he is with us always. In the flesh, seen by faith, he gives himself still for the life of the world.
