Br. Lucas Hall

John 6:25-40

We hear, in today’s Gospel reading, a claim that is at once familiar and bizarre. “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” If you’ve been going to church long enough, it’s easy to gloss over this language. It’s all just so bible-y. But we shouldn’t let our eyes glaze over too much, because this is Jesus’s own response to a pretty reasonable question: “What sign are you going to give us, so that we may see it an believe in you?” Jesus’s answer is twofold: first, it compares his own coming to the manna, the bread from heaven, given to the Hebrews in the Exodus story, and second, it asserts that this coming, his coming, itself is the sign.

When we speak of this manna, we should note some peculiar properties. It feeds people in the midst of desperation, confusion, anger, and regret. It cannot be stored up, but is instead gathered day by day; indeed, if any is left remaining, it is described as quickly rotting and melting away.

When Jesus describes himself as this manna, as this bread from heaven, I think we can learn about how to approach him from this example. The food given, the bread of heaven, this Christ, is offered to those lowly, sick, weak, and sinful. And this manna is not something to be encountered a single day and horded up, but rather sustenance to gather in the course of each and every day.

The season of Eastertide fascinates me, because, it’s a rather mysterious one. We get lots of stories from Acts, of the Apostles boldly going out, but that’s not chronologically what happens. That going out only really happens at Pentecost, at the very end of Eastertide. Until then, the followers of Jesus were in this liminal state, this mystery, this place of learning and receiving wisdom from the resurrected Christ. It is good to act, but if we are too eager to do acts, we might miss the reality of the resurrection, we might fail to sufficiently inhabit, to sufficiently eat and drink of, this mystery. “Do the work,” this reading seems to say. “Do the hard work of believing, of being transformed, of beholding the Church that is Christ’s Body.” Do not horde it up for yourselves to go out and do other things; gather it daily.

The resurrection did not eliminate all confusion, frustration, uncertainty, and anger from the disciples. Easter does not magically make those feelings go away. Easter does not eliminate all sin and grief, within us or among us. What Easter did, what Easter does, is fulfill the promise that, even amidst these trials, we will be sustained. The season of Easter is all about life. So eat. Drink. Do the things that are necessary for life. Resurrection is not merely an event that happened, after which we all go on with our lives; it is the initiation, the first fruits of life made new, about which we still have a great deal to learn.