Ninth Sunday after Trinity 2021

 

Ninth Sunday after Trinity 2021

Lectionary readings: 2 Samuel 11:26-12:13 and Ephesians 4:1-16 and John 6:24-35

Today’s Gospel reading records a conversation between Jesus and some of those who, the day before, had experienced the feeding of about 5,000 adult men and an unspecified number of women and children. Jesus tells them not to work to produce the meal that gets destroyed, but instead to work for the meal that is lasting, that does not come to an end. This meal is understood, by all, to be at the initiative of God.

Therefore, the crowd ask Jesus, What must we construct to perform this work of God? That is, what are the ingredients, and what is the recipe, for this meal? Jesus responds, The way to create this meal is to believe in me. That is, I am the head chef. They reply, What is the distinguishing mark of the meal you serve, by which we will know that you are the head chef? What is your signature dish?

Jesus responds, My signature dish is bread, bread that comes down from heaven and gives life to the world. Bread that satisfies the hunger and thirst of humanity.

This exchange is paired with a passage from Paul’s letter to the Church at Ephesus, the community from where the whole of the Roman province of Asia Minor heard the gospel. In it, Paul speaks of the one who descended from heaven and who is distributed through and to others. The distinguishing marks of this signature dish are apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors and teachers, combined to create something nutritious and nourishing, a meal that sustains and is itself sustained.

This is what it looks like to work to create the heavenly meal on earth. This is the Church, not only as a community that shares a meal—the body and blood of Jesus experienced in the bread and wine of the Eucharist, or Holy Communion—but also, the Church as a meal, for the world.

This is a meal as the hospitality of many different cultures, not just one;

meal as bringing people together in good faith, over which enemies may become friends, and friends become allies;

meal as celebration of life in all its goodness;

meal as comfort food, and medicine, for the hurting and heart-sick;

meal as a life-skill passed down from one generation to another, with faithful improvisation.

This is the Church as a meal, as a metaphor and as a core practice for communal living that transforms the world.

In our Old Testament reading from the life of David, when God sends the prophet Nathan to confront the king with his sin, Nathan does so by telling the story of a meal, in which a rich man, unwilling to offer hospitality that cost him anything, took and served up the poor man’s lamb. In his response to the tale, David passes judgement on himself.

Meals are risky. The author of the Letter to the Hebrews encourages the practice of hospitality because, in so doing, some have entertained angels unawares. In the pages of Scripture, when angels are fed, it is a sign that God is about to do something, to intervene, to act in the world, for judgement and deliverance. As we seek to learn from one another, in the diversity of our life experiences, and to discern together God’s will, meals are both a helpful metaphor and a helpful practice.

With the apostles, we dare to enter worlds very different from our own experience, worlds with different textures and flavours.

With the prophets, we dare to admit our own hypocrisy, repent and return to God.

With the evangelists, we dare to create space to celebrate the love that makes life good.

With the pastors, we dare to feed the hungry and honour the heartbroken, whoever they might be.

With the teachers, we dare to discern meaning and curate wisdom for living life well.

As we seek to grow together in Christ, what might happen if we simply prepared meals and ate together more?