August 22, 2021 – The Thirteenth Sunday After Pentecost

Mother Elizabeth Farr

Sometimes, Lord,

it just seems to be too much…

I wonder if these words resonate with you right now. Too much. So much. All of the much.

These words are actually the title and opening line of a poem. Let me share some more with you: 

Sometimes, Lord,

it just seems to be too much:

too much violence, too much fear;

too much of demands and problems;

too much of broken dreams and broken lives;

too much of war and slums and dying;

too much of greed. . . 

and the sounds of people

devouring each other

and the earth. . . 

too much of words lobbed in to explode

and leaving shredded hearts and lacerated souls. . . 

Sometimes the very air seems scorched

by threats and rejection and decay

until there is nothing

but to inhale pain

and exhale confusion. . . 

Too much, Lord,

too much. . .

Lutheran pastor and writer Nadia Bolz-Weber wrote this week about what she considers to be our incapacity to hold all of the world’s “too much.” The images. The headlines. The stories. The loss. The grief. The pain. It’s local. It’s regional. It’s national. It’s global, and it’s too much.

It’s too much on its own, and then as Pastor Nadia reflects, it’s amplified in the world of social media where all of that “too much” is shared and commented on.

And for many caring and compassionate people, social media also becomes a space that expects a response. Are you aware of this new or continuing pain in the world, and what are you doing about it? Post here. The world is waiting. How are you responding?

That carousel of information and news sharing and commenting and “how are you responding,” – even if you’re not on social media – just that internal conversation of being made aware of pain on such a global scale and the question of what do I do now that I know? What do I do now that I know? What do I do with all of the “too much?”

As people of faith, as followers of Jesus, we first make sure that we’re well fed. We pay attention to the ways that we’re being nourished. We are intentional about being nourished. We feed our hearts, and minds, and souls with the bread of life, the bread of heaven. 

Jesus has had quite a bit to say about bread and life and nourishment over the last several weeks – over the last five Sundays to be exact. Over these five weeks, we have heard all of the sixth chapter of the Gospel of John. If you’ve been here, even if you’ve gone away and then come back, you’re right that we’ve had a variation on a theme – oftentimes not even much of a variation: 

“I am the bread of life,” Jesus says, “My flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.” And we’ve sung that wonderful hymn, “I am the bread of life” – and we will again today, as we come to this altar and receive the bread of heaven. As we receive the Body of Christ. As we become the Body of Christ. Jesus abiding in us, and we abiding in Jesus.

How do we respond to the world’s “too much?” 

We abide in Jesus. 

We receive the Body of Christ, 

and we become the Body of Christ.

John’s Gospel does not include the story of the Last Supper as we know it in the other Gospels. The familiar words that we say in the Eucharistic Prayer: “On the night he was handed over to suffering and death, our Lord Jesus Christ took bread; and when he had given thanks to you, he broke it, and gave it to his disciples, and said, ‘Take eat: This is my Body,” and again with the cup – We do not have these words in the Gospel of John. 

We have the sixth chapter – this chapter that begins with the feeding of the 5000 – where we hear a familiar pattern: Jesus takes the bread, blesses it, breaks it, and gives it to the multitudes gathered. Jesus shares a meal with his friends – a meal of such abundance that everyone gathered receives enough and there are twelve baskets full of leftovers.

And then Jesus spends the rest of this chapter sharing that he is the bread of life, that in him, the scarcity of five barley loaves and two fish is transformed into a feast for thousands. Do this in remembrance of me. Share this meal. Eat this bread. Drink this wine. So that the scarcity and pain and “too much” in the world might be transformed.

Abide in me. 

Be the Body of Christ.

Be the Body in response to the pain and loss and grief of the world. Be the Body. Know that not one single person can respond to every moment of “tragedy, injustice, sorrow, and natural disaster” – not really – not deeply- not meaningfully. Because the work of transformation, the work of resurrection, is the work of the whole Body. It’s the work of the Community of Christ, the Body of Christ. 

Each of us must be prayerful and discerning about what is our work of transformation and resurrection. What is our work, and then how can we champion and support others in the Body who have discerned what is their work? How do we respond when “Sometimes, Lord, it just seems to be too much?”

We respond as the Body of Christ.

As Simon Peter says to Jesus today, “We have come to believe and know that you [Jesus] are the Holy One of God.” 

You are the Body of Christ.

We are the Body of Christ. 

Jesus abides in us, 

and we abide in Jesus. 

Help us, Jesus, in you, and with you, and through you, to 

transform the world.

1 Ted Loder, “Sometimes It Just Seems to be Too Much,” Guerillas of Grace, 66.

2 https://thecorners.substack.com/p/if-you-cant-take-in-anymore-theres

3 https://thecorners.substack.com/p/if-you-cant-take-in-anymore-theres

4 John 6:35 & 48

5 John 6:55-56

6 BCP 362ff.

7 https://thecorners.substack.com/p/if-you-cant-take-in-anymore-theres

8 John 6:69

Year B, Proper 16  –   August 22, 2021   –  The Rev. Elizabeth Langford Farr