"No Offense,": John 6:56-69 - Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost
[Jesus said,] 56 “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. 57 Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me. 58 This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever.” 59 He said these things while he was teaching in the synagogue at Capernaum.
Capernaum by Christyn on flickr
60 When many of his disciples heard it, they said, “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?” 61 But Jesus, being aware that his disciples were complaining about it, said to them, “Does this offend you? 62 Then what if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before? 63 It is the spirit that gives life; the flesh is useless. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life. 64 But among you there are some who do not believe.” For Jesus knew from the first who were the ones that did not believe, and who was the one that would betray him. 65 And he said, “For this reason I have told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted by the Father.”
66 Because of this many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him. 67 So Jesus asked the twelve, “Do you also wish to go away?” 68 Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. 69 We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.” (NRSV)
I always know I’m in for it when someone begins a
conversation with the words, “no offense, but…”
Sometimes, it’s little more than laughter at my own expense.
Other times, the person speaking these words is about to say
something devastating, and they’re telling me that I have no right to resent
them for it.
Occasionally, however, a person is speaking in judgment of
me—and these words may be a gesture of gentleness…
If you’re like me, it’s a very painful to be judged. Report cards in school give way to
performance reviews at work. Websites
like Yelp open the door for customers to publish their praise (or more often
disgust) for everyone to see.
Sometimes, other people’s judgments are legitimate; what we
call “constructive criticism” that helps us learn and grow. Many times, judgment can amount to little
more than schoolyard bullying. Yet one
thing that never changes is our resistance to it.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus is speaking his final words to the
crowd of five thousand that he’d miraculously fed a short time ago. I say “final words” because the people have
had it.
He refused to let them make him a king. Instead of telling the people what they
needed to do to secure a lifetime’s worth of food, he feeds them “mumbo-jumbo”
about eating his flesh and drink his blood (which the Law of Moses strictly
forbids). They don’t understand. Then he tells them that human flesh is
useless in gaining eternal life. Now, they’re
offended. Now, they go.
It’s hard to imagine anyone being offended by Jesus. We love Jesus, and we know Jesus loves
us. Jesus loved the five thousand every bit
as much.
But the Jesus we love is not necessarily the Jesus who
is. The “Jesus who is” will disappoint
us and fall short of our expectations.
He will teach us things we don’t understand. But that’s not the worst of it.
Jesus both speaks and enacts his judgment upon every one of
us, just as he does to the crowd standing before him. This is what offends us most.
Jesus exposes the sin that hides deep in our own hearts, and
the evils we commit against God and neighbor.
All of our right beliefs and good deeds count for nothing before with
God—because sin infects what we call righteous and good. We can neither save ourselves nor make
ourselves right with God.
But rather than receiving God’s judgment, we throw up
defenses against these offenses. Pride
is our ultimate weapon. In pride, we
judge ourselves as righteous. We’re as
good as we can possibly be, given our circumstances. We let necessity set our priorities. We make the judgments on what’s essential to
life and what’s not. We act, think, and
buy based on what makes us happy.
We claim a certainty that our beliefs and convictions are in
full accord with God’s truth.
Nothing reinforces our self-righteousness quite like other
people. The way we see it, we can’t
possibly be unrighteous if other good and trusted people are saying, thinking,
believing, and doing the same things.
If we want to know what’s right for the future, we look to
the past. We let precedent, tradition,
and nostalgia light the way into our future.
How often do we see a return to God as the return to the past?
In the end, our best defense against God’s judgment is a
good offense—which, in this case, is enacting our own judgment against
God. That’s what the crowd of five
thousand does. Then, we go away. We desert Jesus.
Judgment is not a pleasurable thing; be it from other people
or from Jesus. God’s judgment reveals
what Jesus reveals—“the flesh is worthless.”
Thankfully, Jesus breaks down both our offenses and defenses
against him. He comes in judgment,
though not with the fires of hell stoked and ready. Jesus enacts his judgment with his arms
nailed open. He exposes our sin in order
to destroy it. His hammer of judgment
shatters us in order to transform us into what he desires. Then, Jesus gives us his flesh and blood as
the food and drink of new life.
Repentance is what happens when Jesus Christ and his righteousness come
alive within us.
The challenge before us, then, is to embrace humility so that
we welcome Christ’s judgment. It is to
continue listening to Jesus even when his word offends us—and to continue
trusting in Jesus when his ways offend us.
It is to live in the Body of Christ, and to accept that because we
belong to each other, we are accountable to each other. Together, we walk in righteousness and truth.
Holiness and new life begin with judgment—because judgment
is God’s gift that begins in you all that God desires. All who are loved by Jesus are judged by
Jesus—because this is a judgment that saves us.
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