It seems that most cultures and civilizations have some easily grown and processed starch as the staple in their diet. Think manioc, taro root, rice, corn or other grains, squash, potatoes, beans… These highly starchy foods supply caloric fuel that enables laborers (and some athletes) to endure arduous exercise for many hours on end. For many, including our biblical ancestors, the local basic element of their diet was (and is) bread.

Bread has been referred to as the staff of life. It supports and sustains us, so we can go about our days with sufficient energy to accomplish what we need and/or want to do. Bread is so life-centric that English slang uses it, along with dough, to mean money.

Jesus, further along in the sixth chapter of the Gospel of John (John 6:32-35), refers to himself as bread, the bread of life, and the living bread come down from heaven. He is the essential nutrient for the fullness of life that Abba God desires for all. His body, his very being, given over in free, total love, all the way to death, is the food we need to become fully alive. Jesus is our currency for the long and winding journey of life leading to Life.

And where does Jesus begin among us? Tradition says that he was born in Bethlehem, which can be translated, “house of bread.” Maybe it’s not too much of a stretch to say that Bethlehem is the birth home of the life-giving Bread from God.

 

It’s interesting. For years I have been reading and reflecting on certain texts of the Bible and then suddenly, one day, something that I had never noticed or paid attention to before seems to jump off the page. What a gift and surprise!

Take the beginning of the sixth chapter of the Gospel of John – a familiar recounting of a superabundance of bread and fish through the presence and action of Jesus (John 6:1-13). A large crowd, who had seen Jesus healing and freeing people from the grip of evil, follow him up the side of a mountain not far from the Sea of Galilee. Philip approaches Jesus with a logistical problem. What to do with a mass of hungry humanity when the community treasury is low?

Andrew to the rescue? He brings a lad to Jesus with five loaves of barley bread and two fish – locally sourced. What is this to a huge crowd with whetted appetites?  

Jesus asks his disciples to have the people recline on the lush carpet of grass. Recline! That’s a word to indicate the posture at a feast or a banquet – not fast food or a family picnic. Jesus takes on the role of gracious host. He provides the impetus through which all the people are able to eat, be satisfied and there is a basket of leftovers collected for each of the 12 tribes of Israel. 

It seems that with Jesus there will be a festive gathering, even when the fare is as simple as barley loaves (the bread the poor could afford) and fish (abundant enough to be the basis for a major regional industry). Jesus invites us to turn our ordinary, simple meals into banquets by sharing what we have with those around us and by being aware that Jesus is present with us. Lean back and savor these moments!

During the Eighth Century BC Israel was filled with prophetic warnings and instruction. People were taking advantage of one another, especially of those with little power, wealth or status. They were ignoring their obligations to God, while enriching themselves. They believed that their strength was sufficient to save them from any danger. (Sound familiar?) The people’s infidelity to the God, who had bonded with them in a covenant, was opening them to invasion, destruction and being carried off into exile by Assyria – the big, bad, pagan empire of the time. The last of this series of prophets to passionately cry out and call for conversion was Micah.

Micah loved God and was deeply concerned with his people. He summed up what God required of them in three interrelated phrases: Act with justice; love fidelity; walk humbly with your God (Micah 6:8). In other words, “Get your act together. Turn your life around before it’s too late!”

We tend to view justice in terms of a balancing act – weighing out deeds and consequences in some kind of mathematical formula (e. g. an eye for any eye and a tooth for a tooth). We think that it is very fair if someone who does something wrong or harmful gets a properly measured punishment. We are into payback; not justice. Justice in Scripture is infinitely different (literally).

We are to treat others as we would like to be treated. But there’s more! We are called to treat others as God treats us. Whoa! God, an equal opportunity lover, makes the sun to shine and the life-giving rain to fall on good and bad alike; on wicked, sinful unbelievers the same as on those of us who think of ourselves as the righteous ones. That’s unfair! That’s the God that Jesus reveals to us – the only true God there is. Deal with it. God forgives everybody for everything. God works for the good of all. We are to act this way.

Love, in the understanding of the people of God, meant to choose to be wholeheartedly for someone or something. The word for fidelity in Hebrew, hesed, is at the heart of the covenant. It captured how God was for the people: faithful, kind, loving, good, compassionate, tender. To love fidelity is to put our whole self, holding nothing back, into infusing all our relationships (God, others, self) with faithfulness, kindness, love, compassion and tenderness.

Adam and Eve, as pictured in the first chapters of the book of Genesis, were accustomed to walk with God in their garden paradise in the cool of the evening. Their intimacy with God was shattered when they decided that they preferred to be like God rather than to simply savor being with God. They cut themselves off through their arrogance. To walk humbly with God has two main facets: to walk in step with God, not trying to get ahead of God nor falling behind; and to walk humbly, certain that we are loved as we are. We are wonderful, amazing, precious, but we are not gods. Humility is about holding in dynamic tension our littleness and our awesomeness. 

Micah invites us to reorder our lives in justice, fidelity, love and humility. God will supply the grace-energy needed to live in this way. That’s a promise.

Multiple times in the gospels Jesus tries to warn his disciples that, because of his unshakeable decision to follow Abba’s will no matter what, he’s on a collision course with the powers that be. This will result in arrest, humiliation, torture and death.  For him, all this is crystal clear. Jesus knows history and can read the signs of the times. His disciples, like us, find this too difficult to consider, so they tend to ignore, change the subject, or even attempt to talk Jesus out of this trajectory for his life. After all he is God’s Anointed One! Often Jesus continues with a description of what this means, concretely, for his followers (us).

The Paschal Mystery: a faith-filled life, consequent suffering, death(s) (little and big) and being raised to fullness of life, is the pattern for the Christian way. Jesus teaches that if we want to be his disciples we need to deny ourself, take up our cross (Luke adds that this is to be our focus each day), and follow him. Jesus, and Jesus’ way of life, is our Way. But what this might mean is often so twisted out of shape that it becomes unrecognizable as having any connection with Jesus and his teaching.

The idea of denying ourself can be seen as a self-focused effort to root out any and all comfort or enjoyment from our life – like a competition with one’s self to prove how spiritually rigorous or pure one is – which is exactly opposite from what Jesus is calling us to. This leads to a hard, cold sense of superiority. Look at me, look at what I can do! Another variation of I-dolatry. It’s all about me, not Jesus, not love.

Another (healthier?) perspective on denying one’s self is to not feed my ego. To be so caught up in love (God, others, self) and gratitude that there is no time or energy left for self-assertion – trumpeting how great I am. Like it or not, I am not the center of the universe. My life (time, energy etc.), my gifts, my personality are at the service of  something bigger than me, something outside of myself. This is what I was created for. This is how I become more fully alive.

Taking up one’s cross, too, can be distorted into looking for (or inventing) hardships and suffering so that one can appear properly burdened. We might be so intent on finding a cross heavy enough to drag along that we seek out and put up with all kinds of needless pain –  not at all what God desires. We seem to prefer the crosses we make for ourselves over the one that comes to us through following Jesus’ lead.

Jesus did not go searching for the cross. It was brought to him by others, precisely because of the way he chose to live his life. The cross of Jesus comes as a consequence of his loving obedience of Abba. We don’t have to preoccupy ourselves with finding our cross. It will fall to us if we live as Jesus lived. Love inevitably entails pain and suffering. The one who loves shares the joys and the sorrows of those he/she loves. The one who loves will frequently be misunderstood, misjudged. We are called to love wholeheartedly and completely, and to accept the consequences of our loving.  This is the cross we are to embrace. 

Following Jesus is not about trying to act as if we are Jesus. We are not saviors of the world. We follow him by living with the same total conviction that he did, by choosing to love all those whose lives intersect with ours, no matter how they treat us. We follow Jesus by speaking the truth, strongly and kindly. We follow Jesus by becoming Good News, by embodying the Good News of God’s unconditional and universal Love. Jesus is the model for our living in the world today. He invites us to follow him.

The Gospel of Matthew, when it quotes Jesus as saying, “Be perfect, as your Heavenly Father is perfect” (Matthew 5:47), seems to appeal directly to all those who are driven by perfectionism. Striving with all their might and resources to be without any detectable flaw or defect – at least hoping that they look that way to others – they are assured only of failure. It is not possible to be perfect in this way. So relax. That isn’t what Jesus is getting at.

Maybe checking out the parallel passage in Luke would be helpful. “Be merciful, as your Father is merciful.” (Luke 6:36) God’s perfection is most clearly recognized in a compassion that includes all people. The context for both statements (Matthew’s and Luke’s) is Jesus’ exhortation to extend love even to our enemies, those who hate us, speak badly about us, harm us. Jesus uses the example of the sun and rain that God bestows equally on bad/good, just/unjust, ungrateful/thankful people alike.

We are called, commanded in fact, to love as we have been loved. Our love needs to become more and more inclusive (and not just for those nearby). And as God is perfectly God, we are to become perfectly our less than perfect selves – the best that we can be today  (and maybe a bit more loving tomorrow?).

This is the time of fulfillment. The Kingdom of God is at hand. Repent and believe the gospel. (Mark 1:15) or Now is the time you have been waiting for. God’s Kingdom is breaking into history. Change your mindset and your way of seeing. Believe the Good News.

Jesus follows up on the mission of John the Baptist, whom Herod has imprisoned, adding a sense of urgency to the message. This is the moment! God is acting in accord with the divine promises to bring about what God (and we) most truly and deeply desire. What does this compelling invitation require of us?

This is the critical time – the only time we have. We need to be here in this present moment, awake and ready to respond to whatever God asks of us. We can’t afford to become lost, trying to redo the past or striving to preview the future before it even arrives – pretending that we can penetrate the veil of the fearful unknown that has not yet come to be and somehow undo it. Both worry and fear drive us out of the present moment, which makes our life more difficult. This being here, now takes practice and discipline.

The fullness of what God wants for the wellbeing of all people, all creation, is waiting for us to claim. God is inviting us out of the quagmire of sinfulness into the divine Kingdom. The biggest and most inclusive dream of humanity, and that for which our hearts long, is ours to embrace. Why would we continue to cling to our own tiny illusions, when such an incredible treasure is directly in our path? We need to act. We need to choose God’s way.

Whatever stands between us and God’s desires for us needs to be taken down. Whatever within us that holds us back from wholeheartedly welcoming the fullness of life that God offers needs to be released. Repent is not, first of all, about removing all the little (and big?) sins in our life. Repent (Greek metanoia) is a radical interior transformation, a complete change of mind and heart: putting aside our favorite, familiar, comfortable patterns of seeing and judging everything. God, through Jesus, calls us to let go of our way in order to let ourselves be led by God’s Spirit. If we repent in this sense, the pull of that which separates us from God (i.e. sin) fades.

Perhaps the big sin we cling to is partial or conditional belief. We wonder if God is truly all and only good. Doubts can arise, especially in trying times, about how trustworthy God is. We want so much what seems to be unimaginably good, yet we can so easily talk ourselves out of accepting the possibility that such goodness exists – especially in the face of so much pain, suffering, evil. The Good News is that God is goodness itself. The Good News is that God is Love. (1 John 4:16)  And the love of God is for all. Believe the Good News. It’s for you.

 

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We have a tendency to try to domesticate God. We keep building structures that cannot possibly contain the Absolute. Like attempting to put an infant’s onesie on a massive weightlifter (not a pretty sight), God does not fit in our churches or temples. Even less can we encapsulate the Ultimate in our concepts, precepts, ideas, doctrines or dogmas. We are unable to force or manipulate the Holy One to dance to our tune no matter what strategies or ruses, charm or con we employ. We cannot enclose Mystery in a book, bottle or battle-plan. God is not impressed by what we consider a virtuous life, and is not depressed by what we name as a sinful life. Limitless Mercy, after all, has the first and the final Word. God remains wild and free – untamed – by nature. 

Remember how badly David felt living in his palace of cedar, while the Ark of God, symbolizing the divine Presence among the people, remained in a tent (2 Samuel 7)? Let me build you a fitting house, the king proposed. Let’s get one thing straight, countered God (through the prophet Nathan), without Me you would still be out in the fields tending your dad’s sheepDon’t even try; don’t even think about trying!

We get into trouble when we try to anticipate or second-guess God. It is God who always makes the first move, approaching us as we stumble through life. It is God who speaks and great things happen. It is God who invites, urges, encourages, comforts and consoles. It is God who self-reveals in completely human terms, in Jesus. It is the truly Sovereign One who engages us and entrusts so much to us. It is up to us to simply, humbly follow God’s lead – one step at a time.

We would prefer to not deal with tough situations that demand decisive action. We get so comfortable with what we know, what we’ve always done, how things are – in all their brokenness and imperfection. They’re familiar (like family) to us. Facts can seem disturbing, uncomfortable. To honestly and directly face our habitual blind spots would require that we do something about them – that we change. This type of change, a real transformation, feels scary and difficult.

So we make up lies to justify our inaction. And we do this not only individually, but also socially, and corporately (as groups and organizations). There is a (misplaced) sense of security in putting prodigious effort into maintaining a status quo. This outpouring of energy can become our whole life. We are only trying to avoid pain, disruption and appearing needy. We just want to guarantee that some short-term benefit keeps distracting us. We are willing to deprive ourselves of what we most deeply desire in order to stay right where we are. We want to put off, as long as possible, the transformation that we need to be truly whole – to be really well.      Lies come in handy.

A problem with relying on falsity is that only truth has a place in the Kingdom of God. Truth is a requirement here. We would like to be able to have it both ways – to have one foot in our skewed little realm and one foot in God’s Kingdom of healing, of freedom, of peace (Shalom). We need to choose and to accept the consequences of our choice – to cling to our lies or to enter fully into God’s loving embrace and to live true to the genuine, amazing person God knows us, and calls us, to be.

We human beings have an amazing capacity for fantasy. We can create alternate worlds that share strong similarities to the reality we live in day to day, yet not really real. For people with this type of imagination, entering into and engaging with the inhabitants of these tales can be immensely enjoyable.

Our ability to make up whole worlds can have a debilitating side. People who reduce their sphere of influences primarily to themselves are in danger of manufacturing a vision of what is that fits what they believe and have determined to be true, or to what they on their own can handle. Of course they have built up a web of reasoning around their little world that acts for them as proof that they are right, and serves as armor against probing questions or concerns. It’s a fearful attempt to control the uncontrollable – life as it’s unfolding and carrying us along.

These people allow no one to act as sounding board, or mirror, or objective external reference point. Reality is as they have decided it to be. End of discussion. If they do ask someone for feedback they tend to hear what matches their own assessment, forbid topics that are personally challenging and cut off anyone who suggests that, just maybe, there’s another way to see things or to do things. Facing the (real) facts would put a choice before them that they would prefer to avoid – stick with their fantasy or radically change. Ouch!

When we spin our own version of how things are in this way, we develop an unassailable narrative. Nothing can penetrate or loosen it’s tightly woven fabric. It’s like building and sealing one’s self inside a space capsule going nowhere, no windows to the outside, decorated with scenes of what we imagine to be true. In fact, we are unfree, trapped and limited to what we have decided. We become our fabricated story.

We need to sense, then realize, then accept that we are stuck. Our life is only going in circles (no matter how wide), and we are not peaceful or happy. Once aware of these facts we need to own that, by ourselves, we cannot get out of this sad, discontented mess we have constructed – that we are helpless. It’s only if and when we acknowledge that we have done all we can, and it hasn’t worked, that we are able open ourselves to another way, to truth. Only truth can bring us to freedom. Freedom doesn’t come easily or without cost, but it’s infinitely better than the alternative.