The Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost
August 25, 2024
John 6:56-69

The audio of this sermon is available here. The video of the worship service is available on the Trinity Episcopal Church YouTube channel.

Sometimes Jesus grinds my gears. He can be such a nuisance. Jesus says that if someone strikes you on the right cheek, “turn the other also” (Matthew 5:39). Though I will admit, that when I’ve been hurt by someone emotionally, I know the temptation to get back at them. Jesus says that “those who try to make their life secure will lose it” (Luke 17:33). Though I will admit, that I make sure the doors are locked at night. I will admit, just this week, someone asked me for money and I did not give it to him, though Jesus says, “Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you” (Matthew 5:42). These things just grind my gears. Jesus is so inconvenient sometimes.

Perhaps it would bear easier if I just did not read the Bible. That way I could plead ignorance at all my anger, fear, and insecurity. Or, maybe it would easier to simply give up on all this. To leave the church, to forgot about following Jesus, to turn around and no longer go about with him. That way I could live life on my terms. I could live my life like I want to live it. On my own.

That’s the disorienting part of this pseudo self-help pop-psychology world we live in right now. We’re told that we shouldn’t live in shame. We’re told that we’re supposed to focus on ourselves, to be mindful of our journeys, to have good boundaries, to be self-differentiated, to get the unhealthy people out of lives. And while much of that is good, there is an idolatry of the self that lurks in there. It’s all focused on us, while we know that the way of Jesus is about living for others. The way of Jesus is about life. And I know, from bitter experience, that the way of self is the way of death. Not death in the physical sense, death in the emotional sense. The way of self leads to the death of relationships, the death of friendships, the death of my own happiness. That’s the paradox inherent in the human experience. We think that by focusing on ourselves we will save ourselves when in fact, we’ll lose everything. The path of self-gratification will only get you disappointment, and disillusionment, and loneliness, and isolation; death.

What a happy sermon this is turning out to be. If you care about yourself, life is going to be miserable. And yet this exactly how the story plays out in John’s gospel. Jesus is grinding the peoples’ gears. He’s telling them that his own flesh and blood is the gift of eternal life. Jesus is telling them that their ancestors – good, faithful Israelites – ate the bread of heaven in the wilderness and they all died; but this new bread, this new flesh will give them something more. Jesus tells that the only way to the Father is through him. Not through their own righteousness, not by following the latest pop psychology trends, not by living life on their own terms. The only way to eternal life, the only way to love and grace is through Jesus. And this grinds their gears because, like us, they are thinking about themselves.

They say, “This teaching is difficult, who can accept it?” (John 6:60). “And because of this many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him” (John 6:67). They take the path we have all considered, the path of self. To simply walk away and forget about all of this. Thinking it would be easier. Thinking it would be better. Thinking we can live life on our own terms.

Faced with a dwindling number of followers, Jesus turns to the disciples that remain and asks them, “Do you also wish to go away?” (John 6:67). Here it is! They have an out! Jesus is giving them their chance to walk away, he’s opened the door; they can forget about all that love stuff, and about Jesus and his way to eternal life; they can get back to the way things used to be. They can get back to live their lives.

This kind of thing happens all throughout the holy scriptures. The option is there. We heard it in the reading from Joshua. Joshua, the leader who followed Moses, gives the ancient Israelites an option – you can follow the Lord God, or you can go your own way., and holy thing to do, and yet we do not do it. Like some of those disciples, when push comes to shove, we find this teaching to be difficult and we walk away. We walk away to all the little deaths that await us.

“Do you also wish to go away?” (John 6:67). Peter, who chooses to stay, says those immortal words. “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life” (John 6:68). That’s the key. That’s it. These are the words of life. Following in the way of Jesus, as hard as it may be, as inconvenient as it may be, is the way to eternal life. Life – a life in community, a life with others, a life that is fruitful and joyful and overflowing with grace. That is eternal life. 

And by eternal, I don’t mean everlasting. You might think I’m parsing theological hairs here, but it is an important distinction. By everlasting life, I mean that life that goes on forever in the heavenly courts. By eternal life, I mean that kind of heavenly life that is possible right here, right now. Eternal means a fullness, an abundance of life. And that’s what Peter is getting at. He grasps the situation. A life lived on our own terms, a life apart from the love and mercy of Jesus, will give us death. We will be alone, afraid, awash in the idolatry of ourselves. A life lived for others, a life lived for Jesus, a life dedicated to abundance and mercy and grace, that is eternal life. Though it may also be terribly inconvenient.

So yes, indeed, this is not a happy sermon. Because this world of ours is dying as we humans keep chasing our tails, going on around in circles, trying to find life in all the wrong places. From my view in this pulpit, I see it so clearly. We’ve been spending ourselves into debt, trying to buy all the little trinkets that we think we will make us happy. We’ve been dashing from one celebrity to another, thinking that they will give us something to life for. We’ve been cheering on this political party or that one, cheering them on like they’re football teams, thinking that if only our side wins, then finally, things will be alright. We’ve been taking our pills and having our drinks, thinking that just a little bit more will give us that happiness that we are so desperate to find. We’ve been so shaped by this worship of ourselves than when we hear the words of Jesus, the words about grace and community and connectedness and compassion, all too we find the teaching difficult and we walk the other way; we walk into our own isolation, anger, and nastiness. Eternal life – happiness, abundance, joy – the things we really want, all that will always allude us if we chase after it on our own terms. It’s all there, but only through the way of Jesus.

So this is a sermon about happiness. About true happiness, a life of meaning and purpose that comes only from the words of Jesus. And I hope you can see it all laid it before you, too. The options, the choices. Isolation or community. Anger or grace. Telling others what they ought to be doing, or looking in the mirror to face all your own issues. We’ll learn that by turning the other cheek, we actually turn towards them, to learn to love them. We’ll learn that by making our lives secure, we only lock ourselves in. We’ll learn that following Jesus to the cross is the way to life. The fact that Jesus does grind our gears, the fact that we do find him so inconvenient, well, I suppose that at least shows how closely we teeter on that brink, between death and life. 

So Jesus turns to you, as he turned to the twelve, and asks that question that defines every moment, every decision we make. It’s the question that defines every word we speak. It’s the decision between death and life. Jesus asks, “Do you also wish to go away?” 

And I pray that we learn the words of Peter so that in every moment, with every decision, with every word we utter and with every action, no matter how inconvenient for us, we can respond with those words of faith; “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”

See also

Maurice, Frederick Denison. Reconstructing Christian Ethics: Selected Writings. Edited by Ellen K. Wondra. 1. ed. Library of Theological Ethics. Louisville, Ky: Westminster John Knox Pr, 1995.