August 4, 2024 – The Eleventh Sunday After Pentecost
The Rev. Mary Davis
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my strength and my Redeemer. Amen.
A few years ago in my former parish, we had a medical emergency during worship. Everything turned out to be ok, but after the rescue squad whisked a parishioner away, and the dust settled, a handful of us decided to take a refresher CPR course.
While the training was valuable and well-worth our time and energy, what I found really fascinating was how much the strategy of CPR has changed over the years. I mean, years ago, the mouth-to-mouth portion of resuscitation went hand in hand, in tandem, with chest compressions. But more recently, the mouth-to-mouth piece is no longer a first or top priority of CPR. Instead, we were
Now, the more I considered the image of that oxygenated and life-sustaining blood from my CPR course, the more it started to resonate for me with Jesus’ teaching in today’s Gospel. But before I get to that, we need some background information to help make the connection.
First of all, today is the 2nd of 5 Sundays in a row in which our Gospel lessons are all taken from just one chapter in John – obviously a very important chapter in the estimation of those who put together our Lectionary calendar – John Chapter 6. John 6 is a long and loaded chapter, 66 verses, in fact, which presents a confusing and repetitive tug-of-war over what the “true” bread of life really is. Some people thought that the bread of life was referencing the manna which sustained the Israelites during their 40-year journey in the wilderness. Others suspected the bread of life was made up of the loaves of bread (from our Gospel lesson last week) that fed more than 5,000 people in an impromptu picnic on the hillside. Still others were wondering, perhaps this bread of life is something else entirely? All those who surrounded Jesus, including his disciples, wanted to know the answer.
So, in this 6th Chapter of John, Jesus answers their questions and makes the point that while both manna in the wilderness and the feeding of the 5,000 were both incredibly wonderful miracles, they were still just merely a foreshadowing – quite literally a foretaste or an appetizer – of God’s larger plan. As great as that manna was, and as filling as the loaves on the hillside were, it was all still just regular food. And what Jesus is actually talking about in this chapter is not that. Instead, the Bread of Life is a food that will last; nourishment and sustenance that strengthens for not just a day, but also for the ETERNAL – for life eternal. And Jesus offers himself as that nourishment and sustenance, saying, “I am the bread of life.”
And returning to my CPR class, if you will, Jesus says, ‘I am like that oxygenated blood coursing through your body, organs, and brain. I am what gives, sustains, and nourishes life in you.’
But not only is Jesus the life-force, pulsing through our bodies, Jesus is also the rhythm and pace of our life. You see, in order for us to be certain that we were practicing our CPR correctly, we used a metronome. Now, I’ve used a metronome to practice piano or during other music lessons as a kid, but little did I know that this tempo-keeping, mechanical device was also useful for CPR. Our instructor told us that during CPR, you target about 100 beats or compressions a minute, which is what’s necessary to sustain life. So, over and over and over again, we practiced, listening to that tempo, counting out loud, attempting to internalize the timing and tempo of chest compressions, simulating the process of saving a person’s life.
And that is exactly what we do here, week in and week out on Sunday mornings. Each week is a celebration of Jesus’ resurrection, and in all of them, through the Bread and the Wine, we are partaking in Jesus, as the Bread of Life.
This* is* our* life* saving* tempo* every* single* week*.
A chance to stay focused and engaged with the One, Jesus, who is the Bread of life . . . the One who pumps life in and through our bodies . . . the one who sustains our lives, just like that oxygen-filled blood that gets pumped through CPR compressions at 100bpm.
Jesus takes common physical things – bread and wine – and he transforms them into spiritual things. So when we come to this table, our altar, week in and week out, we are not just remembering Jesus as some wise and charismatic first century man. And we’re not just taking in regular food, like the manna in the wilderness or the fish and bread on that hillside. Rather we are feasting on The Bread of Life, encountering the Risen Christ, himself, who satisfies our hunger and thirst, pulses through us and sustains us day by day, and offers us eternal life in him.
Experiencing Jesus, the Bread of Life, week in and week out, is our liturgical, spiritual, and communal metronome. We live and breathe to the beat of it. It sets our pace, and it feeds us. It gives us life, and it sustains us. And yet, we need to come back, week after week, for more nourishment, to keep ourselves in rhythm, to continue living life in Christ.
Jesus says, over and over again in this 6th Chapter of John, “I am the Bread of Life.
I am the Bread of Life. I am the Bread of Life.” He is the very tempo of our life-blood. He is our very life. Amen.
Year B – Proper 13 – August 4, 2024 – The Rev. Mary Davis
