Sunday, August 26, 2012

Jesus, Jefferson, and the Embodiment of Love


“Jesus said, ‘Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.’” John 6:56

The Reverend Luther Zeigler
Emmanuel Church
August 26, 2012


Jesus gets up in the midst of the synagogue in Capernaum and announces to all gathered:  “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.”  It is hard to overstate how shocking a statement this was, and is.  The words are scandalous, disgusting even.  Let’s be honest:  they sound as if they are from some primitive, cannibalistic ritual.  And in context, these words would be especially offensive to a faithful, first-century Jew, since ancient Jewish law emphatically prohibited (and still does) the drinking of any kind of blood or the eating of animal flesh while blood is still in it.  Moreover, Jesus’ claim to be the “bread of heaven” sent from the Father challenges the most basic of Jewish beliefs about the nature of God as an utterly transcendent and “wholly other” being.  Surely, God could not take on the form of a flesh and blood human being.  And what could it possibly mean for such a God to be consumed?  I don’t know about you, but I am right there with the other disciples in saying:  “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?”  Talk about understatement.
Most of us, I suspect, are quite at home with Jesus the Teacher:  the wise rabbi who encourages us to love our neighbor as ourselves; to care for the poor and needy; to welcome the stranger and show hospitality to the outcast; to seek justice and promote the dignity of every human being.  But we are less comfortable, let’s confess, with the Jesus we meet in today’s reading, who provokes us with seemingly outrageous language about eating his flesh and drinking his blood.  It sounds crazy.
This is the kind of text we would really rather ignore.  In the early nineteenth century, Thomas Jefferson famously did just that, by creating his own versions of the Bible, picking and choosing those texts he liked and thought were credible, while chucking the rest.  His work, completed late in his life, has come to be known as “the Jefferson Bible,” but was originally entitled “The Philosophy of Jesus Based On Extracts from the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.”  Jefferson’s method was to take his New Testament and literally cut out all of those verses that he believed expressed cogent moral teaching and pasted them into his book, while excising everything else, including most especially anything that smacked of the miraculous or the supernatural.  Needless to say, Jesus’ invitation to eat his flesh and drink his blood was deemed to bizarre by Jefferson, and did not make his cut.
The Jesus that Jefferson preferred, and perhaps the one that most of us prefer, is Jesus the great Teacher of Virtue.  What Jefferson valued was Jesus’ morality of love and service interpreted in conformity with principles of reason.  For Jefferson, such an ethic does not require the Trinity or miracles or even the claim that Jesus was uniquely inspired by God.  Jefferson’s Jesus is a reasonable moralist:  “a man of a benevolent heart and an enthusiastic mind.”  In short, Mr. Jefferson's Jesus, modeled on the ideals of the Enlightenment, bore a striking resemblance to Jefferson himself.
            As much as I admire Jefferson as a statesmen and political philosopher, when it comes to biblical interpretation, I think his Bible squeezes the life out of the Jesus we encounter in the gospels, and reduces to a simple ethical code the wonder and mystery of God in Christ.  The Church has long taught, and I have come to appreciate over the course of my life, that we frequently learn the most from those biblical texts we like the least, if we take the time to wrestle patiently and thoughtfully with them. 
            So, then, let’s grapple with today’s text.  When Jesus says to his fellow Jews that he is the bread of heaven sent from the Father, and invites them to eat his flesh and drink his blood, he obviously is not expecting them to cannibalize him then and there in the temple.  That is too simple-minded and literalistic an interpretation.  Rather, using intentionally dramatic and even offensive language, Jesus is provoking his listeners to radically re-imagine who God is. 
            The Hebrew tradition had generally regarded God as a transcendent being, who gave His people the Law, the Torah, but who otherwise was an ineffable and distant mystery.  As we heard in today’s first lesson, King Solomon, following the lead of his father, David, constructed the temple in Jerusalem as the holy sanctuary where the ark containing the Ten Commandments would be kept, as a revered memorial of the divine revelation of the Law to Moses.  But, as Solomon himself admits in his prayer to God:  “even heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you, much less this house that I have built.”  During the time of Israel’s great kings, God remained a transcendent and mysterious reality, separate and apart from His people.
            In his teaching today, Jesus is saying something radically new about God:  namely, that God chooses not merely to reveal himself in the Law, and within the sacred walls of the Temple, but that God now chooses to inhabit the flesh and blood of humanity in the person of Jesus.  Jesus is revealing himself as the Incarnation:  God become human.  Love embodied.  God as simultaneously both transcendent and immanent.  Yes, it is paradoxical.  Yes, it is hard to fathom.  But, at bottom, what the Incarnation signifies is that God’s love for us is so profound that the Creator of the Universe freely takes on our frail human form as an act of utter solidarity with us.
            But there is more:  it is not just that God has chosen to take on the human form of Jesus.  Jesus is also telling us that our relationship to God is now changed.  God wants not merely to be “understood” and “obeyed” through the Law, as the prophets had long taught; God now wants to abide with us, and wants us to abide in Him.  God wants more than a relationship of Mosaic faithfulness, or Solomonic righteousness, or Jeffersonian rectitude. He wants a relationship of mutual and deeply personal love.  And so, the invitation to share his body and blood, through what has become the great sacrament of the Eucharist, is an invitation to participate in a meal that is the mystery of God’s solidarity with us, His love for us.  So, when Jesus asks his followers to share the bread and wine of the Eucharist, what he’s saying is:  take my whole life, and with it, nourish your bodies, your lives, your souls.
            Let me illustrate my point with two examples, one pedestrian and one much more sublime.  First the pedestrian:  I love baseball.  And I like to share my love of our national pastime with friends. While I am not always successful at engendering a love for the game in others, I have found that the best approach is not just to hand my friend a copy of the Official Rules of Baseball along with a scorebook.  Yes, these documents in some sense contain all you need to know to play the game, but a true and authentic appreciation for baseball is best had by completely immersing one’s body and soul in the game.  You need to go to Fenway, hear the roar of the crowd and the crack of the bat, smell the freshly cut infield grass, feel the leather of the ball and glove, watch the graceful movements of skilled players throwing and catching and pitching and hitting, and yes, you need to eat the hotdogs and drink the beer.  Mr. Jefferson may think it enough to read the rules and contemplate the principles of the game, but I submit (and I’m betting that Jesus is with me on this one) that you need to completely ingest the game with all your senses before you can claim to know it and love it.  Perhaps today’s gospel is suggesting that knowing and loving God is something like this.
The second example is much more serious and poignant.  Three summers ago, two young brothers in their early twenties – Stone and Holt Weeks – were tragically killed in an automobile accident as they were returning from Rice University, where they were both students, to their parents' home in Rockville.  Stone was 24 and had been a student at the high school where I served as chaplain, although he graduated from the school before I arrived and I didn’t know him well.  His brother, Holt, was 21 and a graduate of Walter Johnson High School in Bethesda.  Stone and Holt were the only children of Linton and Jan Weeks, who worshipped at my home parish, St. Columba's, where both Stone and Holt had been acolytes and enthusiastic leaders of the youth ministry.  They were, by all accounts, wonderful young men.
I was privileged to be one of several priests to officiate at a memorial service for these two young men held that summer at Washington’s National Cathedral.  Thousands of friends and family were on hand.  We celebrated the lives of Stone and Holt, we heard wonderful and funny stories about their childhood, we sang their favorite songs, we recalled their gifts and talents, we prayed for their souls, and, perhaps hardest of all, we grieved with their parents over the loss of their only children.
There was much that was beautiful and memorable about that memorial service, but the single most powerful moment came not in the eulogies, as eloquent as they were; or the music, as beautiful as it was; or the sermon, as graceful as it was.  The most powerful moment was when we silently transitioned from the liturgy of the word to the liturgy of the Eucharist. 
With thousands of mourners filling nearly every seat in the Cathedral, we lived out the sacrament of the Eucharist the way we always do, the way Christians have for thousands of years, in churches throughout this world.  We quietly greeted one another with hugs, kisses, and compassionate glances in the exchange of God's peace, and then we gathered around the table with the bread and the cup and re-enacted our central story:  The story of a God who loves us so much that He will not have us suffer this world's evils alone; the story of a God who takes all of our pain, anguish, grief, worries and fears upon himself; the story of a God whose broken body has become the bread that feeds us; the story of a God who does not let death have the last word, but who overcomes it; the story of a God who promises to deliver us from this broken world, to wipe away every tear, and to make all things new. 
Where words and reason failed us on that Sunday, the mystery of sharing the bread and the cup held us up, held us together, and gave us hope.  With all respect, this is the Jesus that Mr. Jefferson, in all his wisdom, just did not get.
Amen.

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