John 6: 24-35
This is the second of five Sundays that focus on John 6. Last week we witnessed crowds closing in on Jesus. The multitude wants to anoint him as an earthly king. Jesus wants no part of that and leaves. The disciples see him walk on water while calming a storm.
This Sunday, Jesus enters Capernaum, but the disciples and followers seem to be surprised to find him there. For the next three Sundays, the lectionary follows a progression of ideas on Jesus as the bread of life. But just as his disciples, now Apostles, often seem to not understand what Jesus claims, the crowds will be admonished and blessed by Jesus. Sometimes we just don’t “get it.” We expect miracles and become disappointed when our prayers are not answered in the manner in which we implore God for mercy.
I completed my Master’s degree at the University of New Hampshire. Several high schools offered me contracts to teach English and lead writing programs. I chose a school, Pinkerton Academy in Derry, NH. Wednesday morning, May 4th, I called my mother to share this news. She did not answer the phone at work or home.
I went to her house and found her still in her bed. She was unconscious. There was lots of blood. I called an ambulance. In the ER, the immediate diagnosis was that an ulcer had perforated an artery in her stomach. Transfusions would come from my sister and me.
She was stabilized and began to recover. Mother’s Day was that Sunday, May 8th. President Carter had just signed an order. “In recognition of the contributions of all mothers to their families and the Nation, the Congress,
… designated the second Sunday in May each year as Mother’s Day and requested the President to call for its appropriate observance.”
I brought flowers, a small flag American flag, and my newly signed contract on Mother’s Day to her hospital room. My sister and I sat with her. She had recovered and would be home soon. However, her doctor, who was a family friend, summoned us into a private room. Dr. Dodge informed us that further tests revealed that it was cancer that had perforated an artery in her stomach, not an ulcer. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. She had little time, perhaps months. The three of us wept together. She had not yet been told.
Over the next six months, I would visit with her daily. Her decline was apparent, she had good days and bad days. I prayed day and night. I bartered with God. Take her cancer. Take me. Take anything but “spare her.” She died on November 21st. God seemed to have abandoned me, my sister, and my mother.
I tell this story because we all have experienced the intense grief that has made us barter with God only to discover that God seems distant. We can read about this in Jonah and Job. Even Jesus speaks of such grief in Gethsemane before his arrest and crucifixion. Just as the Gospels provide the Good News for all, we may provide compassion, letting others know that we also have been wounded. We suffer with Job or Jesus only to discover restoration and new life.
John’s Gospel is the only Gospel in which Jesus makes “I AM” statements using the word YHWH declaring himself to be God. Such statements would have proved essential and significant to the first-century Jewish listeners. God revealed Himself to Moses by proclaiming, “I AM WHO I AM” (Ex. 3:14). This “I AM” language is exclusive to John. Here is a list of Jesus’ seven “I Am” statements found in the book of John.
Jesus calls himself Yahweh, YHWH using the same word found in Exodus.
. “I am the bread of life.” (John 6:35, 41, 48, 51)
- “Iam the light of the ” (John 8:12)
- “Iam the door of the ” (John 10:7,9)
- “Iam the resurrection and the ” (John 11:25)
- “Iam the good ” (John 10:11, 14)
- “Iam the way, the truth, and the ” (John 14:6)
- “Iam the true ” (John 15:1, 5)
The word Yahweh, the name for the God of the Israelites, represents the biblical pronunciation of “YHWH.” This Hebrew name was revealed to Moses in the book of Exodus. After the Babylonian Exile (6th century BCE), and especially from the 3rd century BCE on, Jews ceased to use the name, Yahweh. The divine term was increasingly regarded as too sacred to be uttered.
For Jesus to say “I AM…” would have been considered blasphemy by the Jewish religious leaders. Today, if I started saying I am God incarnate, probably I would find myself in a psych ward. Yet, in John, Jesus tells multitudes in public places that God lives among us. Each miracle brings him closer to death and closer to his resurrection.
In the late 80’s I left my teaching position at Pinkerton Academy. My son, Jordan, had been born, and I needed to shorten my commute from Rye, NH. I worked for several years at a Catholic School, St Thomas Aquinas, near my home. I was one of a few Protestant teachers who worked there. Increasingly, Protestant parents were choosing Catholic education over public. Over 50% of the students at the school were from Protestant homes.
I was befriended by the head of the theology department at Boston College, Sister Katherine Dunfey, while I at served St. Thomas. She told me this story:
“The Dali Lama asked me if I was Christian, and I said, “I am,” and I asked him what he thought of Christianity. He replied that he believed in the teachings of Jesus and tried to practice those teachings in his daily life. I then suggested that he was a practicing Christian. He said that could not be since Buddha did not allow eating human flesh or the drinking of human blood. I was shocked. I replied that Christians are not cannibals and that Communion was symbolic, not actual.” Sister Katherine was on the liberal end of Catholic theology. I did not expect what she said next. “The Dali Lama then asked me where was my faith?”
Every Communion, I consider this. I understand symbolism and metaphor. I am trained as a teacher and scholar to take deep dives into the vast possibilities of metaphor and such. Jesus used parables and stories to explain the realm of heaven, which is all around us now. We are the stewards of the Eden or Valley of Shadows we share with all Creation. But for each Communion that I take and am authorized to share, I wonder. Sometimes the bread and vine seem symbolic, and sometimes, depending on grace, it seems like much more than a metaphor. Each Communion, I rediscover my faith in the tension of belief and reality. I eat and drink with my mother and all who have passed and all who are present across the world, God’s realm, and I know I am part of the “I AM.”