August 25, 2024 – The Fourteenth 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.
From the time I was 6 years old, I was a competitive swimmer. You don’t get shoulders like *this* without doing thousands of yards of butterfly! And at my high school in Texas – which is one of the best swimming states in the country – there were 4 of us who swam together to make up an awesome medley relay team. Now for those of you who didn’t find yourself glued to the Olympic swimming coverage earlier this month, the medley relay includes legs in each one of the four strokes – butterfly, which was my stroke, backstroke, breaststroke, and freestyle. And during my Junior year, our relay team was so strong and so fast that we actually qualified for the Texas State meet. Qualifying as one of the best in the entire state was a huge thrill and an amazing accomplishment for us.
But while we were still flying high from our success, and of course, planning out all of the teenage fun we were going to have during our trip to Dallas for the meet, our coach informed us that he was going to forfeit our spot in this state meet, because instead, he wanted us to turn our focus and training toward the Regional meet which would be held the next month.
The four of us could not believe it. We felt that all of our rigorous training, those twice-a-day workouts in the pool, 5am & 3pm, plus countless hours in the weight room were all for naught. But our coach had made up his mind, and wanted us to go in a different direction.
So, what do you think we did? All 4 of us? Our entire relay team, with our promising swimming careers and our Senior season still ahead of us? We quit. We walked away. We went a different direction, and never put a toe back in the water again.
I was reminded of this time in my life – this time when I walked away from something I had poured my heart and soul into – when I read John’s Gospel lesson for this week. The text tells us that many of Jesus’ disciples couldn’t handle his teaching. They couldn’t hang their hopes or bet their lives on someone who said, “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.” And for the first time, I noticed how many of Jesus’ disciples, just like us and our relay team, turned away from him. “This teaching is difficult,” they said, ‘Who in their right mind can accept it?’
Now, to get a real sense of the power of these verses, it’s important to remember that when we began this 5-week, high-carb, John 6, “I am the Bread of Life” series, Jesus had a huge crowd of people following him. Think Taylor Swift magnetism and popularity. He was healing the sick and walking on water, and people were in awe. That’s when he took out those 5 loaves of bread and 2 small fish and fed more than 5,000 people with it. “Surely this is the Prophet who has come into the world,” they said. But when Jesus suggested to the crowd that all they needed to do was believe that he was the Messiah, sent by God, and he started proclaiming that he was the “living bread that had come down from heaven,” . . . well . . . the grumbling started. “Is this not Jesus, the son of Joseph?” they questioned. But Jesus continued to teach – doubled down, even – and next he told them that “My flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in them.” How confounding. Confusing. If not down right canabalistic? This was so hard to comprehend. Remember, this was PRIOR to the “Last Supper” when Jesus offered his disciples the bread and the wine, and said, “Do this in remembrance of me.” It was so hard to for them to wrap their heads around it. So bit by bit, that group of 5,000+ enthusiastic followers got smaller and smaller, until it was whittled down to just a dozen left. Everyone else had turned back, skipped town, and no longer followed Jesus. Later, in Chapter 7, John writes, “Not even his brothers believed in him.” And, of course, we know that at the cross, virtually all of those remaining 12 turned away too. The human necessity and capacity to choose is a powerful one.
So Jesus turned to the final 12 left, and asked if they wanted to turn away too. And Peter, acting as spokesman for the remaining disciples, declared his faithfulness saying, “Lord, [who else could we possibly follow?] You have the words of eternal life. We believe that you are the Holy One of God.”
Now, as I focused on these verses this week, I have to admit that I have often found myself – not as assured as Peter was – but rather standing as one in that crowd. Pretty darn hyped-up any time I witness or sense God moving in my life, but as soon as God’s “signs and wonders” seem scarce, it’s so easy for me to give in to my own doubt and fear. Obviously, throughout our lives, we are repeatedly given a choice.
Now here’s where I want to return to my story about my years of swimming. There have been so many times over the course of my life that I’ve regretted my choice, regretted my decision, to walk away from swimming. Especially, of course, anytime I watch the summer Olympics. In those moments, I wish I had continued to work hard and pursue my dreams. But this year I noticed an interesting and powerful phenomenon that allows me to stay connected to the sport of swimming, even though I walked away from it in in my senior year in high school, and even though it’s now decades later. In reality, I probably couldn’t swim a lap of butterfly even if I tried. But I noticed this summer that any time I watch swim races on TV, my muscle memory comes back. My heart rate increases. My lungs pump. I feel the surge off the blocks at the start and the push to touch the pool wall at the end of the race. I am still very much connected to the water, to the lanes, to the whistling crowd, and to the competition. I am still very much connected to the sport that formed and shaped me.
I think this is true for us in our lives as Christians. As you know, following Christ is the journey of a lifetime. And every week, on Sunday – and frankly, every day of our lives – we have the opportunity and the power to choose to follow Jesus, and get to know, more intimately, him and his teachings. To live as a peacemaker. To serve others. To turn the other cheek. To side with the oppressed. To offer mercy and forgiveness. To find strength in weakness. To love our enemies. It is such a difficult course to follow, and it is so easy for us to lose our way. It’s so tempting to be a member of that crowd who walks away. And if I’m being honest with myself and with you, I believe we walk that line, both as witnesses to God’s glory on one side, while betrayers and deserters on the other.
But we are what we eat. The bread and wine we share each week in worship makes us one with Christ and as such, it shapes our identity. It provides the opportunity for our “muscle memory” to be formed and exercised, and the more we partake in Jesus’ Body and Blood, taking it in through all of our senses – taste, touch, smell, hearing, and seeing – we know Jesus more and more intimately. So come to the table today. Make the choice. Make the decision. And then stay true to that path, knowing that Jesus in the Bread and Jesus in the Wine is a true feast that shapes us forever. As my dear friend quoted in her sermon last week, “Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you who you are.” Again, tell me what you eat, and I will tell you who you are. Chew on that today, as we consume the Bread of Life. Amen.
Year B – Proper 16 – August 25, 2024 – The Fourteenth Sunday After Pentecost – The Rev. Mary Davis
