Yes, God Does Want Us to Be Happy

Brad Sullivan

Proper 16, Year B

August 23, 2015

Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX

Ephesians 6:10-20

John 6:56-69

Why did so many of Jesus’ disciples leave him when he told them they had to eat his flesh and drink his blood?  Perhaps some thought that was kinda gross, taking him a little too literally.  Others, perhaps knew what he was talking about and didn’t want to put in the time and effort. 

Jesus talked about the manna from heaven which Israel ate during their 40-year journey in the desert after the exodus from Egypt, and when Jesus mentioned that, some of his listeners started to get a hint that following Jesus was not a one and done kinda deal.  They didn’t get to be baptized by John, follow Jesus, and be fed every day with miraculous loaves and fishes from Jesus.  That’s not the bread he was talking about when he said eat my flesh and drink my blood.  It’s not like the manna; it’s not simply getting a miraculous physical meal every day. 

Jesus had just fed the 5000 with the 5 loaves and 2 fish, so for a minute there, it seemed to some of the disciples that if they followed Jesus, they wouldn’t have to work anymore, wouldn’t have to strive or put forth effort.  Stick with Jesus, and we’ll get food. 

So, when they realized he wasn’t a vending machine giving out free lunches, they left.  What they missed was that they could work in their daily jobs and laboring for physical food, but they couldn’t work in their daily jobs for the food Jesus was offering.  They could only get that food through Jesus, and while unearned, the food Jesus was offering did come with the cost of discipleship.  The twelve knew that cost and still stayed by Jesus’ side, because they knew who he was and they wanted the bread that he was offering them.  "Lord, to whom can we go?”  Peter said.  “You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God."

The twelve understood the words of Psalm 84, which we prayed this morning:

For one day in your courts is better than a thousand in my own room,*
and to stand at the threshold of the house of my God
than to dwell in the tents of the wicked.
For the LORD God is both sun and shield; *
he will give grace and glory;
No good thing will the LORD withhold *
from those who walk with integrity.
O LORD of hosts, *
happy are they who put their trust in you!
Psalm 84:9-12

Happy are they who put their trust in Jesus.  We hear cost of discipleship, and it may sound like a rather less than joyful affair.  Cost and discipleship are not particularly happy words, and yet, “happy are they who put their trust in Jesus.” 

Paul seemed rather happy in his letter to the Ephesians.  He was in prison at the time that he was writing the letter, jailed because he was a disciple of Jesus.  That is something we fortunately don’t have to worry about, but for Paul, even in prison, he seemed joyful and happy in his love for Jesus.  His love for Jesus is what got him imprisoned, and yet he called his love for Jesus armor.   

Therefore take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand therefore, and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness. As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace. With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.  

Darkness, hard times, the flaming arrows of the evil one.  Amidst all of the swirling darkness around us which we know is there, armor up, Paul tells us.  Armor up in your discipleship of Jesus, and be not afraid, but happy. 

What does this happiness look like, well, it varies, but I’d say it isn’t the happiness that comes from the acquisition of stuff.  There was the wealthy man who had many things, and he wanted the happiness of the kingdom of heaven.  When Jesus told him to sell his stuff, the man went away sad.  His stuff didn’t bring him the happiness his soul was longing for, and yet he still trusted in his stuff to bring him the happiness for which he longed, and Jesus looked at him with pity and said, “how hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God.” 

How hard it will be for those who seek happiness in stuff to receive the happiness for which their souls are longing, the happiness that comes through abiding in, trusting in, and following Jesus.  I think of the happiness of my kids when they get a new toy.  It makes them happy for a while, but not for long.  Even if it’s a cool toy and the play with it, they don’t get continual soul-deep happiness from a toy.  Now a cuddling hug from their mom, that comes a lot closer.  As a child longs for his mother’s arms, so long our souls for God. 

We have relationship and discipleship with our parents, with those who love and raise us.  A child loving and being loved by his mom is a life-long journey and relationship.  So too, abiding in Jesus is not just a quick fix.  To eat Jesus’ flesh and drink his blood, we must abide in him, follow him, trust in him.  Eating Jesus flesh and drinking his blood is not a pit stop. It is continual driving and striving.  A long road of discipleship, studying and taking seriously Jesus’ teachings.  Staying in community with our fellow Christians, making sacrifices to do so. 

Eating Jesus’ flesh and drinking his blood is a long and often a difficult road of discipleship.  He promises us that it will be difficult, that people may hate, revile, exclude, tell lies about us.  Does God even want us to be happy?  Absolutely he does.  That’s why he sent Jesus to us. 

Discipleship is a difficult road at times, and sometimes it’s not so difficult, but in all times “happy are they who put their trust in Jesus.”  Amen.

Food for Our Souls, Not Our Minds

Brad Sullivan

Proper 15, Year B

August 16, 2015

Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Bay City, TX

Ephesians 5:15-20

John 6:51-58

“[Lord] Deliver us from the presumption of coming to this Table for solace only, and not for strength; for pardon only, and not for renewal.  Let the grace of this Holy Communion make us one body, one spirit in Christ, that we may worthily serve the world in his name.”  These words are from Eucharistic Prayer C, the third option of Eucharistic Prayer in our Rite II, modern language liturgy.  Matthew, Mark, and Luke tell the story of Jesus’ last supper with his disciples, instituting the sacrament of his body and blood in remembrance of him.  This was just before he went to the cross and died, a meal that we would eat for the forgiveness of our sins. 

In John’s Gospel, a meal is not mentioned at the end of Jesus’ life, but in the middle of his ministry.  Jesus talks about eating his body and blood, the bread which came down from heaven, after he had just fed the 5000 with the loaves and fish.  They were no longer physically hungry, and yet Jesus knew they were still spiritually famished.  They needed a different meal, spiritual sustenance, not just to prepare for the end, but for their whole lives.  We consume Jesus, take him into ourselves, and have him become a physical and spiritual part of us so that we can journey through this life, so that we can work for the Gospel, not for solace only, but also for strength; not for pardon only, but also for renewal. 

While countless Christians eat this meal every week, we can never really consider it to be routine, and certainly not mundane.  We come here for an encounter with the divine, the creator of all that is.  The enormity and power of that cannot be overstated.  Then, at Jesus’ invitation, we are bold enough to eat his flesh and blood in word and sacrament.  The enormity and power, and even audacity of that action cannot be overstated. 

I wonder if we’re not always aware of the enormity of what we’re doing when we come here.  We come for an encounter with God, asking his to take part in our lives, possibly not even really ready for him to say “yes”.  Author Annie Dillard writes about Christianity and her faith, and in Teaching a Stone to Talk, wrote about the enormity of what we’re doing here at the Eucharist.

On the whole, I do not find Christians, outside of the catacombs, sufficiently sensible of conditions.  Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we so blithely invoke?  Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it?  The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry sets, mixing up a batch of TNT to kill a Sunday morning.  It is madness to wear ladies’ straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets.  Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews.  For the sleeping god may wake someday and take offense, or the waking god may draw us out to where we can never return.

Kids mixing up a bunch of TNT.  God just may draw us out to where we can never return, may call us to follow and convict us so strongly, that the whole trajectory of our lives may change.  Considering the danger to our comfort and routine, one might wonder why we risk coming here at all.  I think the answer is shown in how Jesus spoke about us eating his flesh.  He talked about us eating his flesh, but the word he used did not describe a dainty eating of a nice, easy meal.  The word he used for eat connotes a ravenous ripping and chewing, the kind of eating done by someone who hasn’t eaten in two weeks.

Jesus is emphasizing the hugeness of our spiritual hunger.  He knows how much we need his life within us.  He knows how ravenous our souls are for him.

We don’t look particularly ravenous when we come here do we?  We’re sitting nicely, listening as we partake of the first part of this meal, the reading and hearing of scripture.  Jesus is the Word of God which spoke creation into existence.  So in the first part of our worship, we hear the Word of God proclaimed through scripture.  This is a meal in and of itself, an eating of Jesus’ flesh, for as Jesus said, quoting Deuteronomy 8:3, “one does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord.”  We are fed by the reading of scripture and the hearing of God’s word.

Then, in the second part of our meal, we are fed by the bread and wine, the flesh and blood of Jesus.  Considering the enormity of what is happening in this meal, I can’t help but note the neat and orderly way we approach the table for Eucharist, for a meal that Jesus says we are starving for.  It seems we would be clamoring pell-mell to the table if realized our hunger.  I realize our orderly approach is also out of reverence and awe, and I’m really glad we don’t knock each other out of the way to get to the Altar Rail and receive communion. 

Jesus tells us we are starving for this meal, but he doesn’t really tell us how this meal works.  In John’s Gospel, he doesn’t even give us instructions for how to eat his flesh at all.  He simply says to do so, and he tells us what we receive in eating the meal of his flesh and blood.

We receive Eternal life – God’s life within us.  We receive life everlasting, living forever with God.  We receive a dwelling of God within us, abiding with God in Jesus.

We don’t know exactly how that works.  Jesus didn’t say, and we don’t need to know.  For a lot of parents, it is important that their children know what is going on in the Eucharist before they eat the Eucharist.  I always encourage parents to let their kids have communion as soon as they are baptized.  While none of us fully understand, kids do seem to understand almost instinctively.  This is not an everyday meal we share.  This is something else, something special.  It is a mystery, and it is a joining with God and each other.

As physical food goes, there’s not much to it, not much that would have a kid think “I just got a yummy snack.”  As food for our souls, however, this meal is enormous, and a meal which children seem to absolutely get in their souls, if not in their minds.  It is a meal, after all for our souls, and not for our minds.  We share this meal, we feast on Jesus’ flesh and blood, and he promises us life eternal, abiding with him forever…strength for the journey now, and life everlasting when our journeys have ended.  It is a meal for the ravenously hungry, who are bold enough to take this meal, to risk joining with God, being strengthened by him, and following where he leads.  Amen.