Message by Pastor John Culp : February 3, 2008

“Wonder Bread”

Text – John 6:52-59

      You’re not the same person you were last year.  You’re not even the same person you were yesterday!  In fact, I can state it even more forcefully than that: You are almost a completely different person than you were just a few years back.

     Now I’m talking here about the ‘you’ represented by your physical body.  And the sort of change I have in mind has to do with the life span of your cells.  You may know that most of them live a lot shorter than you do.  Each of the billions of cells that are your body lives out its days, doing marvelously well the specific job for which God created it.  It passes on its precious genetic information to a new cell or cells that will replace it.  Then it dies.  That’s true of the cells that make up your skin and hair; your muscles and bones; most of your internal organs; all of your blood.  So even as you’re sitting here, you are quite literally becoming a new person!

     And where does the raw material for this constant, lifelong personal building project come from?  It comes, of course, from your food.  So the old aphorism that we all know so well is quite literally true: You are what you eat.

     Our bodies use as much as they can of what we consume to fuel the activities of our cells and make new ones.  So what we eat and drink doesn’t merely pass through us.  It really becomes us!

     I’ve been thinking of all that in the context of Lord’s Supper – the sacrament that we celebrate often in worship, including today.  Most every Sunday when we do receive the sacrament in worship, I try to somehow tie it in with whatever message I’m bringing that day.  But some time ago, our Worship and Music Committee suggested that I devote a whole sermon to the topic.  It is of course one that’s vitally important to us, as it is to all believers.  So I’m happy to comply with that request!  This message is at least a first effort in that direction.

     You may know that Christians have long disagreed on exactly what happens when we celebrate the sacrament.  Our spiritual ancestor John Calvin was quite clear in rejecting the teaching of some Christians that the bread and wine in any sense become the body and blood of Christ.  At the same time, Calvin insisted that there is more here than mere symbol and memorial, more than meets the eye.  Calvin believed that Christ is present in the sacrament in a way He is not otherwise with us.  He taught Christ’s spiritual presence in the sacrament: not that we bring Him down from heaven, but that in it He lifts us spiritually to Himself.  (Institutes of the Christian Religion, Book IV, Chapter XVII, par. 31)

     In that sense, that idea that the sacrament lifts us into the real spiritual presence of Christ, we might well say that we’re about to enjoy a sacred meal of Wonder Bread!  At any rate, I hope that, as we reflect on the strong words Jesus has for us in today’s lesson from John 6, we’ll grow closer to the One who is the whole reason we celebrate the sacrament.  Our Lord’s words here are strong indeed!  In them Jesus teaches us a striking but vital truth:

Our only hope for salvation lies in being made one –

radically, totally and permanently one –

with Jesus Christ.

     Now that’s a pretty strong statement!  It comes to us as both a challenging command, and a tremendous comfort.  Let’s examine it from both angles.

     Think first of the very sobering command Jesus here lays before us.  He has only recently miraculously fed the 5,000 (John 6:1-15).  In that context, He utters the first of seven great ‘I am’ statements in John: “I am the bread of life” (John 6:35).

     Then He goes on to say all these shocking words about eating His flesh and drinking His blood.  Now the idea of the Lord’s Supper would not have occurred to those who first heard Jesus say those words – but He surely intends for us to think of it when we hear them!

     In any case, He certainly wanted them – and wants us – to think of a radical oneness with Him.  What Jesus is talking about here is something a world deeper than merely going to ‘church’ on Sunday and trying to follow Him as a great teacher.  In fact it’s so radical that Jesus can only describe it as becoming fully one with Him – even more than the food we eat becomes part of our bodies.  He calls us to be so completely sold out to Him that we can honestly say with Saint Paul, “For me to live is Christ…” (Philippians 1:21 NIV).  Now all that sounds noble enough as a vague principle.  What does it mean in more concrete terms?

     If I can truly say, “For me to live is Christ,” I’ll have a value system like Jesus: One in which I concentrate not on things, but on seeking first the Kingdom of God (Matthew 6:19-34).  I’ll have relationships with others like Jesus, who commanded us love even our enemies (5:38-47).  I’ll have the grace of Jesus, who could pray for those unjustly torturing Him to death: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34 KJV).  I’ll have the righteousness of Jesus, who demanded of us nothing less than God-like moral perfection (Matthew 5:48). 

     The simple reality is that I don’t have that.  Neither do you.  We don’t even come close.

     A man is in a psychiatrist’s waiting room.  He’s five feet tall and he weighs four hundred eighty pounds.  He’s wearing fishnet stockings and cowboy boots with spurs on the heels; leather lederhosen with bright purple suspenders; a green cummerbund; a denim jacket with the right sleeve torn off; and a woman’s pillbox hat with a veil.  He has half a beard down to his chest; the other side of his face is clean-shaven.  His nose is pierced with a roofing nail; the eraser end of a pencil is sticking out of his left ear.  Perched on his right shoulder is a bantam chicken plucked naked.  As he sits in the waiting room he alternates every three minutes between weeping uncontrollably and laughing out loud.

     Finally the psychiatrist comes out and invites the man into his office.  He says, “Good day, sir.  What seems to be the problem?”

     The man takes a seat on the couch and begins, “Well, Doc . . . I’m worried about my brother.”  (Lowell D. Streiker, An Encyclopedia of Humor, page 242.)

     When we come to Christ’s table we hear His call to the radical oneness He commands us to have with Himself.  We come face to face with just how high He places the bar.  We’re reminded that, though we may often point the finger at others, we have problems of our own – serious moral problems!

     Ages before this Israel had received miraculous bread from heaven, the manna that sustained their lives as they wandered in the wilderness.  Today’s Old Testament lesson from Exodus 16 tells about that amazing gift from God.  But as we read, Jesus points out (John 6:58) that even with that supernatural blessing, they died in the wilderness – all because of their sin.

     Apart from a radical union with Christ, we do no better than they!

     But Jesus speaks to us here not only a challenging command.  He blesses us with words of tremendous comfort!

     The fact of the matter is that if you have saving faith in Jesus Christ, you are one with Him!  Jesus insists that if we eat not just ordinary bread – not even any super-natural manna from heaven – but if we partake of the One who is the Bread of Life, unlike the Jews’ ancestors, we will never die (John 6:58)!

     Now is He talking here about the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper?  Well, yes – but only as a sign and seal of the union with Himself that He describes in terms of eating His  flesh and drinking His blood.  He is not actual bread any more than He’s a material light (John 8:12), a wooden door (10:7) or a biological vine (15:1) – all images, metaphors He uses elsewhere in John to help us grasp the multi-faceted reality of who He is.

     By the same token, the sacrament itself does not give us life.  That can come only from the total union with Christ which the sacrament symbolizes.

     Our salvation is grounded in God’s sovereign choice.  Earlier in all this talk about bread and life, Jesus says, “No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent Me draws him, and I will raise him up at the last day” (John 6:44 NIV).

     That’s the beginning, that’s the sure foundation on which our salvation rests.  If my salvation is based on my choice, on my faithfulness, it would surely fall apart quicker than a house of cards in a tornado.  But if God draws you, He will have you, and claim you as His own.  And if the almighty Creator of the Universe is the Architect of your salvation, know that nothing – not all your doubts and sins; not all the world’s attacks; not the very gates of hell – nothing can ever pull it down!

     Jesus says, “Anyone who eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise that person at the last day” (John 6:54 NLT).

     But earlier in the same dialogue with His opponents He had said, “My Father’s will is that everyone who looks to the Son and believes in Him shall have eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day” (John 6:40 NIV).

     The parallel is obvious and it is striking.  To ‘eat the flesh’ and ‘drink the blood’ of the Son of Man is clearly to look to Him in faith for salvation.  Jesus promises us that if we come to His table; if we live our lives with that sort of faith, we are one with Him – just as the food and water we eat and drink become part of our bodies – and He will raise us up to live with Him forever.

     Recently I heard about a conversation that took place many years ago in the coffee hour following worship in another Presbyterian church.  It happened to be First Church in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania.  The senior pastor of the church at time was a man named Keith Brown.  As Brown was speaking with a man named Frank, he noticed that Frank was wearing a lapel pin in the form of a bulldog.

     Now Brown had apparently never paid close attention when he walked past the front of a Mack truck, because the lapel pin was in the form of the very distinctive image of a bulldog that stands on the hood of every Mack.  And he didn’t know that Frank worked for Mack Truck, whose corporate headquarters were and are in nearby Allentown.

     So Keith innocently said, “Frank, what does that bulldog symbolize?”

     Frank got a twinkle in his eye and said, “Well, Keith, the bulldog symbolizes the tenacity with which I hold onto Jesus Christ.”

     And that pastor replied, “Well, Frank, it’s a wonderful symbol, but you have lousy theology.”

     Frank said, “What do you mean?”

     He answered, “It should never stand for the tenacity with which you hold onto Jesus Christ.  It should stand for the tenacity with which Christ holds onto you.”

                                   (Thomas Tewell, “The Tenacity of a Bulldog,” Preaching Today, Tape No. 141.)

     Friend, if you are a Christian, be sure of this: Jesus Christ not only calls you to be one with Him.  He holds onto you.  He abides in you.  He is – at this moment and for all eternity – one with you!

     Come to the table now where He not only calls you to that oneness . . . but promises you that it’s for real.

     Let us pray.  Dear Lord Jesus, thank You for inviting us to this sacred feast, for giving us this powerful and beautiful reminder of Your desire and Your command that we be radically one with You.  Thank You for assuring us here that we are one with You – imperfectly now; one day in fullness.  Thank You most of all for giving Your precious life for us, to make this a blessed reality.  Please help us, by the power of the Holy Spirit, to walk each day in the conquering power of the truth that we are Yours.  We pray in Your almighty name.    Amen.