Eating
Right
9th Sunday after Pentecost
John 6:24-35
My family and I
spent the last two years doing two things: moving and eating.
When we weren’t unpacking boxes, we have been packing it in at
parishioners’ houses. Spending
time with you over a meal has been a fantastic way for us to get to know you all
much better. And, other than the few
extra pounds we put on, it worked. Those
meals were more than just eating for the sake of eating.
Not only did we take in a lot of good food, we took in each
other—stories of our lives, tales of our church, lots of laughter and a few
tears as well.
On our UM ARMY mission trip last week, our work teams would make a lunch for our clients and share in a devotion and a meal with them. This was a wonderful time of sharing. In fact, as Nadia mentioned her team spent 1 ½ hours talking with her client who just lost her brother the night before and had recently lost her husband as well. That time was not just talking, it was sacramental. And it was the food that brought them together.
Food has a way of making it easier to talk with folks. When you break bread together, some of the newness and the barriers break down, too. Besides, everybody feels better when they eat.
When I mentioned the title of this sermon Eating Right the other day, someone worried whether this Sunday was going to be a nutrition lesson. Well in a way, it is. Food is on our minds pretty much all of the time. The two biggest sellers in any bookstore, as Andy Rooney once said, are the cookbooks and the diet books. The cookbooks tell you how to prepare the food and the diet books tell you how not to eat any of it.
Orson Welles, who had some weight issues, once said, “My doctor has advised me to give up those intimate little dinners for four, unless, of course, there are three other people eating with me.”
Have you ever noticed how many meals Jesus ate with others? All through the gospels there are stories of Jesus’ eating excursions: He dines with Pharisees and other distinguished citizens. He also breaks bread with tax collectors and prostitutes. He turns water into wine at a wedding party and feeds a multitude with only a boy’s lunch.
It’s no wonder that the crowds in today’s reading come to Jesus looking for their next meal. He had only recently fed thousands of them with those five loaves and two fish. Hungry again, they’re back for more.
Instead, Jesus offers himself. “I am the Bread of Life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never thirst.”
It’s
just like Jesus to offer us one thing when we come looking for another.
He prepares us a banquet, and we want fast food.
We think we can satisfy some empty place inside by eating, or consuming,
or acquiring. We work and earn and
spend and yearn for more gadgets and stuff.
I was listening to the radio in the car one
day last week, when the DJ was holding a conversation with a young person who
had called in. The DJ asked the kid
what he liked to do, and the boy talked about skiing.
The DJ responded, “Wow, I want a pair of skis.
I’ll never use them here in
That’s about where our culture is. We want so much stuff that we do not need and will not—cannot—use, just because it would be cool to have it. We have developed an insatiable need for things—not to mention food. Orson Welles wasn’t the only one who could have afforded to miss a few meals. Obesity—especially among children—is getting scary. Just look at all the shows like Biggest Loser and other Hits. Unfortunately, food can become an obsession.
And yet, never has a people who have eaten so much been so malnourished. We seem to be like Esau, Jacob’s twin brother, who was all too ready to give up his birthright of blessing for a pot of stew.
It’s not that physical needs are inconsequential. After all, Jesus fed all those people, people who came to him in the first place for what they thought were good spiritual reasons.
It’s just that Jesus is more than a short-order cook who fixes food to meet our immediate needs. He offers us a far better meal, if we’ll simply slow down and take the time to take in what he so freely and abundantly shares.
We’ll have a chance to receive some of that food in a few minutes.
As you know, many of our friends call the Lord’s Supper, the “Eucharist,” or Thanksgiving. The Eu in Eucharist means, “good,” and charis is the root of our English word “caress.” The Lord’s Supper is the “good caress.”
In this sacrament God comes to us and says “I love you; let me hold you.” Is it any wonder, then, that over 80 percent of those surveyed said they most felt a sense of worship during the sharing of this holy meal?
“I am the bread of life. Those who come to me will never be hungry nor thirsty again.” More than any goody or gadget, Jesus satisfies our deepest longings and needs. He gives us the food that endures forever. And by his grace he fortifies us to share God’s goodness with a hungry and hurting world. Jesus is the food that binds us together, the meal that we all need.
In a culture obsessed with food, he gives us the bread that endures. Take this bread, taste it, take it fully into your body and your soul, and share a taste of heaven right now. Let us come together and practice Eating Right for a change. And we will be filled. Amen.