August 3, 2024 – Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost

Let’s see – last week, Jesus had just fed 5,000 people with five small barley loaves and two fishes. There was so much food, the disciples gathered up twelve baskets of leftovers. And the very next day, the same people demanded, “What sign will you give us…?” If this were an episode of the Simpsons, we might Homer remark, “Doh!”

Their question should have been, “What sign are we willing to believe?” We might well apply the same question to ourselves. Is feeding the hungry enough? Is working for justice enough? Or will we hold out for getting knocked off a horse like Paul, having our barbecue roasted by a thunderbolt like Elijah, hearing voices in a burning bush like Moses? Are we, to put this bluntly, going to tell God what we’ll accept as evidence of divinity? And if we don’t get the sign we expect, will we disbelieve?

Perhaps those twelve baskets are the leftover miracle bread the crowd is following Jesus to eat again. And, why not? They were part of something special, something heavenly, something that echoed God’s gracious manna from heaven that fed the people of Israel on their journey. Why not follow Jesus for more of that? After all, he is the one who provided it in the first place. Surely it is a good thing.

That’s what the people who thronged around the lake did. And according to John’s narrative, Jesus gave them an answer they didn’t like: “Look at me to see God.” It’s still the only sign we should need.

Now to be clear, Jesus does not deny that the bread he multiplied is a good thing. But, he tells us, it is not a lasting thing. It was good. It met a real need. It was welcomed with thanksgiving. It was shared. It was collected afterward so that nothing would be lost. Yet, if that is why people are following Jesus, then they are sure to be disappointed because the bread that Jesus multiplies miraculously will not last… it WILL spoil. The creative powers at work in fermentation are also the same powers in mold and decay. If the analogy holds, there is a way of pursuing faith that is wonderfully attractive but which can also prove ruinous in the end.

Reflecting on the reading from Ephesians, there is a huge difference between unity and sameness. We seem to think that if all of us in our church believe the same thing, we have unity. But all we really have is a boring sameness. Unity with another person – with another group of people – involves a deep joy at the differences of culture, ideas, politics – differences that can enrich all of us if we take the time to deeply listen to each other. One of the key things about listening is that you do not try to respond or correct the other person. You only listen in order to understand. You offer your opinion when it is asked for. And that will often come, if first you listen deeply and carefully and non-judgmentally.

So we need to listen to Jesus to understand. What Jesus is offering is NOT the bread that he produces. Rather, it is the bread that he is. To follow this train of thought throughout some of the “I am” sayings of John’s gospel, Jesus offers the truth that he is, the life that he is, the way that he is, the resurrection that he is.  We can enjoy the truth that Christ offers – propositions, wise sayings, meaningful parables, and insightful teaching. But, until we follow the truth that is in Christ, we have not yet found the source, the fountain of truth itself. This may be John’s way of engaging those other Christian groups that are not enemies necessarily or even wrong necessarily, but who also have not yet grasped the eternity of God that is made flesh in Christ. John’s bold assertions against those who have attained a semblance and measure of truth but not truth itself may also speak volumes to our own day, when we encounter those who have no problem giving allegiance to the words of Christ, but who seem to be far away from the spirit of Christ.

I am reminded today of a Japanese Folktale Parable titled, “The House of 1,000 Mirrors.”

Long ago in a small, far away village, there was place known as the House of 1,000 Mirrors. A small, happy little dog learned of this place and decided to visit. When he arrived, he bounced happily up the stairs to the doorway of the house. He looked through the doorway with his ears lifted high and his tail wagging as fast as it could. To his great surprise, he found himself staring at 1,000 other happy little dogs with their tails wagging just as fast as his. He smiled a great smile, and was answered with 1,000 great smiles just as warm and friendly. As he left the House, he thought to himself, “This is a wonderful place. I will come back and visit it often.”

In this same village, another little dog who was not quite as happy as the first one decided to visit the house. He slowly climbed the stairs and hung his head low as he looked in the door. When he saw the 1,000 unfriendly looking dogs staring back at him, he growled at them and was horrified to see 1,000 little dogs growling back at him. As he left, he thought to himself, “That is a horrible place, and I will never go back there again.”

My friends, all the faces in the world are mirrors. As we listen to understand, we need to listen deeply, non-judgmentally, and with genuine interest. We are the ones who want to see Christ in the other, but like those little dogs, we need to show Christ on our faces, lest we look in a mirror and see something that we don’t like.