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Sermon – Pentecost 14 Year B

Pentecost 14 Year B

Sermon Preached by Reverend Michael Hillier on Sunday, 25 August 2024.

John 6.56-69

Over recent weeks, we have been studying John 6, which began with the Feeding of the 5000. This led to Jesus stating that He was the bread of life (v.35, 48, 51) and that His flesh was true food and His blood true drink (v.55).

I am not going to go back over that material again today. Still, we were told that as a result, some of His disciples were ‘complaining’ and ‘offended’ (v.61). We were also told they found Jesus’ teaching ‘difficult’ (v.60). The Greek word here is skleros. It doesn’t so much mean difficult to comprehend but rather, challenging to accept.

They knew what Jesus meant, at least at one level, but they struggled to accept what it might mean for them personally. Jesus had drawn them a long way from where they began when they realised His leadership potential, wanted to make Him their king, and, amazingly, His seeming ability to produce food on demand! We would all like a fairy godmother like that!

We have seen previously how they struggled with concepts such as the ‘bread of life’ and His flesh is ‘true food and drink’. Now, in today’s reading, in verses 62 and 63, we see how they struggle with the idea of the ‘Son of Man ascending to where He was before’ and ‘the spirit that gives life; the flesh (being) useless’. These are key phrases in our reading today, and for us, all they seem to do is confuse an already complicated picture. So what’s going on here?

In saying the ‘Son of Man ascending to where he was before’, Jesus reminds us that He is the Word made flesh (1.14). He is equally at home in heaven and on earth. That is a powerful statement and one they struggled with. But more than this, in the ‘Word made flesh’, it means that God’s spirit is bringing new life to humans through the mediation of Jesus.

It gives humans and the physical new dignity and emphasises the importance of both the flesh and the spirit. Significantly, He says that the spirit gives life to the flesh. It is no wonder His listeners were struggling.

Now, we see His listeners fall into two camps. It is too much for one group, who chooses to walk away. For the other group, and for whom Peter becomes spokesman, though they greatly struggle, he can say, ‘Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life’ (v.68).

Let’s now move from this narrative of 2000 years ago to us. How do we respond? How does all this touch us? The fact that we are here this morning when there are other things we could be doing shows that we are not in the camp of those who chose to walk away. But like the group Peter spoke for, we struggle. So where to from here? It is this second group that I want to focus on because this is us, each one of us.

Because we struggle to understand and make sense of it all or because we realise God is asking us to take the next step to a more profound commitment, we can almost unconsciously begin to practice what could be called ‘God avoidance’. And with time, if we don’t realise this is what we are doing, this God avoidance deepens.

We all practice God avoidance in one way or another; every human being for we cannot bear too much reality.

Take Moses as an example. He was drawn up the mountain in fascination to see the burning bush, but he wanted to avoid getting too involved. Then, he wanted to know God’s name to control God—or so Moses hoped (Exodus 3.1-15). It was thought that knowing someone’s name gave you some control over them. He could not let God be as God was. He was somehow trying to avoid God – just as we do.

Another person who practised God avoidance was Moses’s brother, Aaron. His problem was that he was casual in his relationship with God. God told Moses to tell his brother, Aaron, not to come waltzing into the sanctuary, this holy place of God, casually and unprepared (Leviticus 16.2).

It’s a form of God avoidance, and there are times when we all do this. Whilst good liturgy, music, and sermons are essential, we can become fixated on things like beauty in worship and getting the details supposedly perfect. Or we can become fixated on needing to hear excellence in the sermon, not that these should not be thoughtful and even challenging.

In an information age, we can constantly seek new ideas and interesting thoughts to prevent boredom. Without care, this can become an escape into entertainment, even with the serious intent of gaining new facts about our Faith. The means become an end.

We can be endlessly distracted and never sit still, silently in God’s presence, and just happy to be there with Him. Or we can turn it into a monologue where we do all the talking, and God has to do all the listening, never getting a word in.

Timothy Radcliffe tells of a visit to Mt. Sinai and how he noticed an ancient fire extinguisher just outside the ‘Chapel of the Burning Bush’. A delicious irony in this speaks precisely to what I am saying: the extinguishing of any sign of God bursting into flame in our lives before it might get out of control.

Maybe we are always vulnerable to the temptation to avoid God. It is true for us all. Perhaps the most important thing we can do here is recognise this ongoing dilemma and live in tension with it since when we think this does not apply to us, we are in danger of it being confirmed that it actually does.

We will go far with humility, a desire for reverence, and attentiveness to God. And it will take courage—not so much natural courage as courage of the supernatural kind that can only come from God. A story makes the point, admittedly an extreme one.

A particular incident happened during the French Revolution, when mob rule took over, and the Church suffered. There was a group of Carmelite nuns, and one evening, after Compline, the Mother Superior told the sisters that there was now great danger for their safety. She said she would leave the door unlocked tonight, and anyone who wanted to leave could do so.

The following morning, one of the sisters, who all knew lacked any form of courage, was missing. The mob soon took the convent, and the sisters were led away to be guillotined.

As they came to the place of execution, they all sang that lovely hymn, ‘Come thou Holy Spirit come’. One by one, they were executed until only the last was left singing. Then she, too, was executed, and the hymn fell silent.

But then something happened. Someone started singing that hymn and came out to the front through the crowd. It was the sister who had fled in the night. Now, she, too, was present and was the last to be executed.

She had no natural courage and very little supernatural grace in this respect that she had ever shown before. And yet here she was! It shows the effectiveness of this supernatural gift of courage from God. She opened herself to this gift, which picked her up and moved her to a new place.

We all face situations where courage is needed at times. The supernatural gift of courage takes us beyond ourselves. I pray that we will continue to have the courage to say ‘yes’ to God as He leads us ever deeper into our commitment to Him and all that means. You and I can ask for supernatural courage to take those needed steps just as Peter and the others did.