St. Paul's On-The-Hill Episcopal Church

The Rev. Stephen C. Holton, Rector

11 Pentecost; August 16, 2009

John 6:51-58

GOD HAS COME

Come, Eat, Change the World

God has come into the world. The God who created the sun and moon and stars, has come into the world.

God has distilled Godself – becoming manifest as a single human being, Jesus Christ; and that human being has spoken all the words by which the worlds move, by which the sun and moon and stars move, by which the jaguars and the antelopes breathe and the fishes play.

That Jesus, that God, that Life made manifest has said that he is in this holy bread. His life is in this bread, which comes from wheat and grain. Come, eat, and come alive with his life, his Godly life, his heavenly life.

His life is in these words. Come, try them, live by them, and see your own life come alive with his heavenly life. Watch it have his heavenly impact on the life of others, so that it is not just for you; but it gives them more life, more beauty, more justice and peace.

Have the same impact on others that he has on you. Be little Christs, “Christians.” That's a good word.

It begins by eating this Life he offers, in the bread he offers and the wine, and the words.

“Take. Eat. Do this in remembrance of me.”

There is a problem with this. The problem is that if God has always come to us in a particular way, and we have always experienced him in a particular way, we think he can come in no other way!

This is the problem the institutional religious leaders of his day had. If God had always come to them and been with them in a particular way, through the Law and the Prophets and the Temple, he could not bring some new way. So this Jesus must be unacceptable.

So Jesus does not say: believe all this new stuff. He simply says: come, eat with me, we'll talk. Eat my bread. Drink my wine. We'll talk.

The other problem is this. If God has always come to us in a particular way, and then he invites someone else, not like us, there must be a problem. God has always invited me, included me, accepted me, we think. How can he now invite, include, accept someone so different?
Either God has changed his mind and thrown me out and wants someone else not like me, or that other person must be wrong. He or she should become more like the tradition in order to be accepted by the tradition. He or she should become more like the community to be accepted by the people of the community and the God of the community.

But we are wrong both ways. God has not changed and rejected us in order to accept others. And God has not included others only if they become like us first.

God includes all groups, invites all groups to this common meal of his body and blood, his wine and words. He just wants us to eat, to pull up a chair.

If we're already here, already eating, he just wants us to get a chair for our new neighbor, move to one side, make some more room at the table, invite them in to the common meal provided by our common host, Jesus Christ.

Jesus does not even seem to insist on common belief at first. In fact, he does not seem to insist on any belief at first. Just come and eat, he says. We'll discuss belief and actions later.

Then we discover what Jesus means by belief and doctrine. His doctrine is simply this – that God has come to all people, and invites all people to come to him; at a table, where we can all be nurtured and strengthened and forgiven together.

This is Table Evangelism. God has come to all people and brought the food – a loaf of bread, a jug of wine and thou. He is the food. We eat.

Our very real, very incarnate Episcopal evangelism is just the same. Share a meal with anyone. They just have to want to eat. Share ourselves with anyone. They just have to want to share alike.

In that conversation – about any part of life, not just Bible – God will come. In that community – not just church – God will come. Wherever food and fellowship is shared – not just in communion – God will come. With whomever food and friendship is shared, God will come.

But people do have to eat, listen, talk, share; and we do have to offer ourselves, our food, our ideas.

I think we at St. Paul's have a table evangelism. We feel it at the altar. We feel it at coffee hour. We feel it at parish and community dinners. God has said that God will come at such events, wherever food and fellowship is given; and he does.

This is why, seriously, coffee hour is so important. It is not just a cup of joe, a few unwanted calories. It is a chance for us to share in the very real presence of God which exists in communion, in lunch at work, wherever we share food with another person.

“Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me.”

So eat. Share. Invite. Seriously – sign up for Coffee hour and be a celebrant of God's presence. Invite a friend to a diner and give God's life. Share lunch at home and share God's strength. What happens on Sunday morning is simply a representation of what happens all week.

In this weekly celebration and its daily repetition, we get changed, each of us, all of us, in our particular ways. We start differently, with different backgrounds and cultures. Then we are gradually transformed into a more Godly version of ourselves. Our sins are gradually washed away. Our mistakes are corrected. Our wounds are healed.

Our individuality is still there, but it is directed toward a more Godly service, away from our own self-service. We become one with him.

With him we then go out in ministry, sharing bread and wine and words and selves with others.

God invites absolutely everyone into his presence and it is not necessarily safe to be in his presence, for we will be changed and we will be called upon to help him change others, even our whole world.

The first to be changed in the Christian era of divine history was Mary, whose feast day was yesterday, whose “Ave” from the divine messenger, Gabriel, we just heard.

“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.”

And Mary wonders what sort of greeting this might be, and thinks about it before she lets God into her life so completely, as we should think about it. One never knows what God has planned, but it will be grand.

Later on, we see what will happen. Later on Mary is transformed from a quiet person who accepts God's will, to a transformative individual who wants to transform the world!

She moves from saying, quietly and meekly: “Yes Lord, thy will be done, to, with great excitement: “YES LORD, THY WILL BE DONE!

When she greets her cousin Elizabeth, she says, like a revolutionary:

“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,

my spirit rejoices in God my Savior”

(and later)

“He has mercy on those who fear him

in every generation.

He has shown the strength of his arm

he has scattered the proud in their conceit

He has cast down the mighty from their thrones

and has lifted up the lowly.”

She is ready to lead a revolution, or to follow God in his. She was just a quiet little girl, and see what has happened.

Beware when you accept a dinner invitation at the Table of the Lord, and chew on his words, and eat his food. Stuff might happen.

You will then be sent to others. Stuff might happen to them too – not just by what you say, but what you might do, and how you might help them, love them, work with them; just as Jesus helped, loved, or worked with us.

Years ago, I heard a radio commentary on a topic as simple as grass. It actually has to do with this topic.

It seems that generally a wild lawn of grass will spread from a single plug, a single spore or growth; a kind of grass seedling. A researcher once came upon a relatively normal lawn and then found where one kind of grass gave way to another, healthier and closer knit kind of grass. He followed this new kind of grass inward and sure enough, found what looked like the central spore and seedling, out from which in all directions spread this newer, healthier lawn.

Jesus is the seedling that came down from heaven, a living seedling that transplanted itself as a human – though still full of divine energy. His energy then spread in seedling after seedling of grass – us – that allowed ourselves to take in his energy and share his energy by sharing in his food, his body and blood, and his words. In allowing ourselves to be transformed and revived into new life, we then allow ourselves to become agents of new life and new health to those around us, and we pass the life along.

If we travel, perhaps we become the new spore, the central seedling that will re-green another patch of lawn.

That is how we spread the Kingdom of God – by allowing God to spread it to us, by pulling up a chair at his table even if we don't quite understand what he's saying and why we deserve to be there. It doesn't matter.

We also pull out a chair for the new person who sits next to us, the stranger we've never met, whose customs we do not share. It does not matter. God has invited them. God will feed them too, as well as us. He's brought enough food to go around. He is enough food – his body and blood, his wine and words – to feed everybody.