11th Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 18, Year B

Bringing Meaning to Life

Readings: 2 Samuel 11:26-12:13a; Psalm 51:1-13; Ephesians 4:1-16; John 6:24-35

David’s behaviour is nothing short of scandalous. In our world of twitters and tweets and Facebook it would have been out in a matter of minutes. Even in David’s time such events are not kept secret for long. First of all David is lounging at home while his men are fighting his battles. Then he becomes so enthralled with a woman that he takes her and then has her husband killed to cover up his misdeeds. Don’t you want to ask David why he thought he could do such a terrible thing? What was he thinking? Did he really think that he could get away with it? Did he think that there would be no price to pay? No doubt he considers that sin is personal, that it is simply an offence against God who will forgive and everything will go on as it always has. But no matter how we might wish it, no matter how we might try to convince ourselves, no sin is an offence only against God. It always hurts others. When the powerful sin it has even graver consequences for society.

Along comes Nathan. How does a prophet survive confronting a powerful king? Nathan is brave to even consider it. His approach is clever. He tells David a story about two people, one rich and powerful; the other poor. The rich man has many flocks and herds. The poor man has a little ewe lamb which he treats as a well-loved pet, a member of the family. A traveller drops in on the rich man. He offers hospitality, but rather than preparing one of his own flock for the traveller, he takes the poor man’s only lamb, slaughters it, and feeds the man. Our sense of justice comes to the forefront when we hear the story. As listeners we become outraged at the actions of a wealthy person who would steal a poor man’s lamb.

David too is outraged. “The man deserves to die. He owes the poor man four times what he took because he had no compassion,” David exclaims. Nathan’s words ring true and cut to the core as he confronts David with his sinful behaviour. “You are the man!” What must it have been like for David to hear those words? Caught out like a naughty child! Nathan reminds him of all that God has done for him and what a terrible deed it was for him to have Uriah killed simply to take his wife. David comes, as we all must, to the realization that he has done a grievous wrong. He repents, but the fact is that he did not count the cost of his sinfulness until confronted by Nathan. He failed to consider the responsibility that comes with power.

There are many examples of it in society today. Consider the #me too movement. People who have been taken advantage of by powerful individuals are finally able to confront their abusers. Not that justice is always served. Powerful individuals are often able to make bad things go away. But the fact that people are able to confront the abuse and take back their power is the beginning of transformation for them. And when abusers do accept responsibility for their actions, it is the beginning of healing for a society badly in need of transformation.

Consider as well Canadian history with respect to our First Nations people. We took away their livelihood, their culture, their family life. We gave them diseases which wiped them out. We made treaties with them which we broke. We moved them away from their ancestral lands onto reserves. Then we took away their children, sending them to Residential Schools where they lost their language and culture, and where many suffered abuse. We are learning, but it is very difficult for people to understand that responsibility needs to be accepted and atonement needs to be made. As an Ambassador for Reconciliation I have heard on more than one occasion that it happened long ago. First Nations people should get over it. That is why it was such a transformative moment for the Canadian Anglican Church when Michael Peers stood before the National Native Convocation in Minaki in 1993 and apologized on behalf of the church. And I quote what he said: “I have heard the voices that have spoken of pain and hurt experienced in the schools, and of the scars which endure to this day. I have felt shame and humiliation as I have heard of suffering inflicted by my people, and as I think of the part our church played in that suffering. I am deeply conscious of the sacredness of the stories that you have told and I hold in the highest honour those who have told them. I have heard with admiration the stories of people and communities who have worked at healing, and I am aware of how much healing is needed. I also know that I am in need of healing, and my own people are in need of healing, and our church is in need of healing. Without that healing, we will continue the same attitudes that have done such damage in the past.”

His apology was graciously accepted, and then the real work of truth and reconciliation began. We listened and responded to the stories of abuse and lost lives and heartache. We began the long process of educating people, not only those in our churches, but also in our communities. As we accepted responsibility for the actions of our church and our nation, it began to transform our souls.

And isn’t that what is needed in our society? Isn’t that what is behind our spiritual search? During a Vacation Bible School in one of the churches I served, we had a mission project. We invited a guest to come to receive what the children had collected. He talked to the children about his mission and then asked if they had any questions. A hand went up. “What is your question?” he asked a six-year-old girl.

“What is the meaning of life?” she asked him. While we tried desperately to contain ourselves, he was at a total loss for words.

Yet we should not be surprised by the question. It is something that consumes us as humans. It eats at us. That very question arises over and over again, particularly when we face troubles in our lives. In fact it is the world’s most asked question. We all seek for meaning in life.

Jesus wanted to bring meaning to the crowds who followed him. “You are looking for me because you ate your fill of the loaves,” Jesus tells them. He knows that they have missed the point. They have witnessed the feeding of the five thousand. If it could happen once, why can it not happen all of the time? If Jesus can perform wonders, perhaps they can harness his power in some way. Perhaps he can pass on his powers to them. Then there would be a constant supply of free food. There would be no more worries, no more hardship or struggle. That would be wonderful, wouldn’t it? Like winning a lottery! Surely God would want that. By fulfilling their material needs, their suffering would end.

But that is a purely materialistic interpretation of what Jesus is saying. He wants them to understand that feeding five thousand people, no matter how extraordinary it is, is not the most important occurrence. The real miracle is the one they have missed out on. The real miracle is the one that can change their lives, not materially, but spiritually. The real miracle is the one who can give meaning and direction to their lives.

It is easy for us as we read the Gospel, to see that the crowd has missed the point. The writer wanted us to recognize it. However, similar experiences in our own lives are more difficult for us to perceive until we reflect back on the impact in our lives. Things become much clearer in hindsight. Such reflections, once we allow them to surface, may leave us with a far clearer understanding of the power of God working in our lives. They can give real meaning to our lives.

A scientist set about to discover the answer to the world’s most asked question. What is the meaning of life? He discovered something that we as Christians have always known. First of all the meaning of life lies in relationship. Secondly, it is about discovering, about making sense of things. Finally and most importantly, he said that meaning comes about through service to others.

We meet as a community of faith because we need to be in relationship with others. People may say that they do not need to go to church to be Christian. They are quite right. But they do need to come to church to fully experience that sense of community. We need community to grow in faith and in relationship to God and to one another. Christ is present to us in the Eucharistic offering of the church. As Jesus becomes the bread of life for us, we are the bread of life for those around us. Jesus is bread for our souls, nourishing, wholesome and life-giving. He is the bread of our Eucharist lying in our outstretched hands. The reality of Christ giving himself totally in the Eucharist is the model and criterion of Christian behaviour. To be like Christ is to love in a life-giving way. It involves being generous, sharing what we have with others. But it is about so much more. We are called to be generous, not just by providing bread but also by sharing the deeper gift of ourselves. Such sharing becomes our purpose in life. It gives present and eternal meaning to life. It transforms our souls!

Proper 18, Year B

The Meaning of Life

Readings: 2 Samuel 11:26-12:13a; Psalm 51:1-13; Ephesians 4:1-16; John 6:24-35

During our Vacation Bible Schools we have a mission project. At one such event we had a guest come to receive what the children had collected. He talked about his mission to the children and then asked if they had any questions. A hand went up. “What is your question?” he asked a six year old girl.

“What is the meaning of life?” she asked him. While we tried desperately to contain ourselves, he was at a total loss for words.

It is a question that consumes us as humans. It eats at us. “What is life for?” questioned Leo Tolstoy, that famous Russian writer of the last century. “To die? To kill myself at once? No, I am afraid. To wait for death till it comes? I fear that even more. Then I must live. But what for? In order to die? And I could not escape from that circle.”

“Why was I ever born?” Job asked in the midst of his terrible suffering. His suffering had brought him to the point of questioning not only the purpose of suffering, but his very existence. He could no longer see any reason for his life. That is surely the most destructive type of suffering. The victim can see no purpose or meaning to what is happening. When that occurs, one gives up. One lives as if one were dead. Indeed, one hopes for death.

David is asking the same question. He is questioning God’s purpose in the suffering of his child. After all, he is the cause of the suffering. That must be the hardest thing to accept. God has told him that the child will die because of his sinful deed. He goes through a period of atonement, although, perhaps understandably, he appears to those around him to be in mourning. They see no reasonable explanation for his behaviour. One does not mourn until after a death occurs. His actions fly in the face of convention. Especially since once the child has died and he realizes that he can no longer change God’s mind, he gets over it. He goes on with his life. His period of mourning is over just when everyone thinks it should be beginning.

The Gospel for today presents not only the question, but also the answer. “What is life for?” the crowd seems to be asking Jesus. They follow him, seeking signs and wonders.

“You are looking for me because you ate your fill of the loaves,” Jesus tells them.

They miss the point. “What must we do to perform the works of God?” they ask. They have witnessed the feeding of the five thousand. If it could happen once, why can it not happen all of the time? If Jesus can perform wonders, perhaps they can harness his power in some way. Perhaps he can pass on his powers to them. Then there would be a constant supply of free food. There would be no more worries, no more hardship or struggle. That would be wonderful, wouldn’t it? Like winning a lottery! Surely God would want that. By fulfilling their material needs, their suffering would end.

The problem is, they have retreated to a purely materialistic interpretation of what Jesus is saying. He wants them to understand that feeding five thousand people, no matter how extraordinary it is, is not the most important occurrence. The real miracle is the one they have missed out on. The real miracle is the one that can change their lives, not materially, but spiritually. The real miracle is the one who can give meaning and direction to their lives.

It is easy for us as we read the Gospel, to see that the crowd has missed the point. The writer wanted us to recognize it. However, similar experience in our own lives are more difficult for us to perceive until we reflect back on the impact in our lives. Things become much clearer in hindsight. The answer to the profound questions of life are often within us. We have only to accept them. Such reflections, once we allow them to surface, may leave us with a far clearer understanding of the power of God working in our lives.

I brought a painting with me to share with you this morning. It is one which I bought some years ago while I was staying in a village in the Midlands in England. It is a landscape. I bought it because of the effect it had on me when I saw it. It has a depth which draws me into it until I am part of the landscape. Trees take on texture. Sunlight dances in the leaves. Through my purchase, I got to know the artist and he shared his story with me.

He had worked most of his life in a factory, doing heavy labour. Heart disease forced him to quit. He had no idea of how he might earn a living. “I no longer saw any purpose in life,” he told me. “My life was over. I wanted to die.”

While he was recuperating, the physiotherapist got him painting. At first he scoffed at the idea. “After all,” he told me, “I hadn’t held a paint brush in my hand since grade school.” But he discovered that he had a real talent. Using water colours, he began to paint the beauty which he saw around him. He could bring life to canvas. He began to study in earnest, not with any idea of earning a living, but to renew his life. He framed a few pictures, and much to his amazement, people bought them. By the time I met him, he was making a living wage through his work. His life had new purpose and meaning. He was later awarded a prestigious prize, and became well-known throughout England. But more importantly, he accepted the gift giver. His life became a witness to the power of God working in him. That is the real miracle.

Jesus refused to give the crowd the sign that they wanted. Signs wouldn’t help. They had already witnessed signs. They had simply missed the point. What they needed, Jesus knew, was to see with eyes of faith. It is faith that would help them to interpret the real miracle, the miracle that stood before them. Faith is not something that can be achieved by following a formula. It cannot be acquired through observation. It needs to be experienced. There must be an active response. There must be a commitment in order to realize the benefits of eternal life. There must be an acceptance before the gift can be received.

Christ is present to us in the Eucharistic offering of the church. As Jesus becomes the bread of life for us, we are the bread of life to those around us. The reality of Christ giving himself totally in the Eucharist is the model and criterion of Christian behaviour. To be like Christ is to love in a life-giving way. It involves being generous, not just by providing bread but by sharing the deeper gift of ourselves. Such sharing becomes our purpose in life. It gives present and eternal meaning to life. Thanks be to God.