JOHN 6: 37-40; 44; 47-57; 66 NIV
Three words for today’s sermon: Belief, Cannibalism, and Nice.
1. “Belief” TROUBLES
We really need to take issue with the word “belief.” While it has stood dead center in America’s idea of faith since the Second Great Awakening, it remains a crippling dumb-down of what faith truly is in nature and spirit.
First, mere belief is too easy. Too much of what we call belief denotes nothing more than intellectual consent. Yes, I believe that men landed on the moon in 1969 despite the conspiracy theorists. I can believe this without any cost or consequence to my person. Believing by itself is far too cheap and easy to be a worthy synonym for biblical faith. That generations of evangelists have said, “All you have to do is believe!” participates in the erosion of good Christianity. It is the ultimate dumbing down of faith.
Secondly, beliefs are fickle. We can believe something for years and have it unmade with the morning news. One day you believe cholesterol is bad; the next day you learn that it is good. One day we believe that Wise Men visit the baby Jesus in his creche; the next we find our well-worn ideas stand in need of scriptural correction. Our beliefs change just that quickly.
Thirdly, the word “belief” is not what we have thought—or at least not what we have used it to mean. Even the English word “believe” derives from a stronger word and idea than mere mental assent. “Be-lief” comes from something like “be-love.” To belove the Lord is a much higher bar than just to believe.
Belief is simply not enough. In the book of James we read:
You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that. —James 2:19
Again, mere belief is insufficient. Furthermore, we need to look behind the English word believe to its Greek roots. In Greek, the word pistis(and its variants) can mean believe or belief, but it chiefly means faith, specifically, to hold faith. In my translation, for our sake, I would use the word “trust” to capture Scripture’s intentions. It makes a huge difference.
Consider John 3:16 with the word trust in place of believe for the Greek pistis:
For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever TRUSTS in him shall not perish but have eternal life.
Or “holds faith” in him would have the same effect; namely, to say that faith means more than holding ideas in your head, but entrusting your whole self into your faith.
Let’s look at another from Mark:
All things can be done for the one who trusts.” Immediately the father of the child cried out, “I trust; help my distrust!” —Mark 9:23
When you joined this congregation we did not ask you what you believe. The questions were:
- 1.Who is your Lord and Savior?
- 2.Do you TRUST him?
The focus of both is whom more that what. What you and I believe will change from time to time, seeking deeper dimensions based on our study and life experience, but what never changes is the one in whom we place our trust.
Trust is superior to belief, both in translation and in practice.
2. CANNIBALISM
This is a fascinating text full of troublesome detail—all things that would have been impossible for Jewish followers to have fabricated. In verses 51-52 of our text we read:
51 I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats this bread will live forever. This bread is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.” 52 Then the Jews began to argue sharply among themselves, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?”
Whatever constitutes being civilized, by which I mean whatever it is that constitutes the epitome of the civilized man or woman, no doubt at the opposite end of the scale is cannibalism. It is the worst, wildest, most inhumane thing imaginable. Yes, the Jews were offended by imagery—the merest suggestion—of cannibalism. This was unkosher to the extreme. The avoidance of blood and death constitute an enormous amount of Jewish purity laws. Jesus says the living bread from Heaven is his very flesh.
Now Jesus could have made it easier; he could have said, “Whoa, whoa! Listen, gentlemen, I’m speaking metaphorically! I don’t literally mean eating flesh; I’m speaking figuratively, okay?” Yes, he could have, but he didn’t. In fact, he goes in the opposite direction, holding their noses in it:
53 Jesus said to them, “Very truly I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. 54 Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day. 55 For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink.
Jesus doubles-down and the cannibalistic imagery is unavoidable. This is terribly disturbing and perhaps it is intentionally so. What does it say to us? Among other things, it says that Jesus’ incarnation is neither partial nor figurative. Jesus is not “just passin’ through,” but he intends to meet us and touch us intimately. This is extreme incarnation. It is not enough to merely come near to us; he must be taken physically inside of our bodies. When we eat the bread and drink the cup, his life and being become part of ours.
In the missiological classic, Peace Child, by Don Richardson, we hear the story of a Canadian Bible College graduate who, with his wife, enters into the pre-civilized world of Papua New Guinea in Indonesia.
His work has its ups and downs, but in time he learns that the people are cannibals. They deceive their enemies and once conquered, they eat part of their enemies bodies.
The idea is that they are taking their enemies’ life force into themselves. They become stronger and increase their longevity by doing so. It was also normal to eat from the bodies of their dead ancestors for the same reason—that they would take some of their grandparents’ life force into themselves so that their ancestors would continue to live in and through them.
Once these cannibals became Christian, they celebrated the Lord’s Supper with an intensity of joy and a deep understanding you and I will never quite appreciate. When they eat the bread, they truly believe they are taking the substance of Divine eternal life into their bodies. When they drink the cup, they sincerely feel that they are ingesting the life force of Almighty God.
In the films of these folks taking communion, you see them eat, sip, and then turn from the table with looks more joyous that you’ll ever see in a Western church. They get it.
Jesus could have made things easier or nicer, but he does not. He wants us to be deeply-connected to him. He wants us to know that our bodies belong to him every bit as much as our minds and good intentions. He is literally IN us as we celebrate.
3. NICE vs. Good
So we’re clear, there’s really nothing very nice about cannibalism. Let alone the ancient Jews, we 21st century suburbanites are equally revulsed at the idea. So we should be, for we need to remember and regularly remind ourselves that what is good is not necessarily what is nice. Nice is a sad substitute for good.
When Jesus clears the temple do you think he is smiling? Do you think he goes about proclaiming the Father’s honor like Mister Rogers?
[show nine pictures from history and popular culture of cleansing the Temple]:
The first is from a children’s book. He doesn’t look very nice.
This is Jesus the Angry Hippie. Next.
Here’s gentle Jesus turning over the table with his blood pressure at 1o0/45. This is the nice Jesus we love in the suburbs, but not the one of Scripture.
I reject this one outright on the grounds that Jesus looks like one of the BeeGees. Next.
This is El Greco’s depiction. Jesus has almost no expression on his face whatsoever, which makes it impossible to imagine what he might be thinking or feeling. This befits much of the old, European worldview. This is the rational Jesus who acts from pure reason with neither passion nor emotion. Many Americans like to think of Jesus this way.
Jesus as Jackie Chan Ninja.
VERY angry Jesus. Not pleasant.
I feel sorry for this Jesus. He’s upset but no one seems to be paying much attention. No one seems to care much about the whip in his hand, etc. Perhaps this is what we have turned Jesus into by thinking of him as always being nice and pleasant—that is, a Jesus who has become ineffectual and no longer capable of speaking to the moral universe. This Jesus is the end result of making him totally and completely non-judgmental. ‘
This is my personal favorite, by Gustave Doré, a 19th-century French artist. In this one, Jesus looks both decisive yet grieved. He is not enraged with angry passion, but look like a father who must spank his beloved child—he looks grieved that it must be done.
In all things we too must aim toward what is good rather than what is merely nice. We can happy that they often coincide, but when they do not, let us not quibble over which side to take. It is not about us and what we like; it is about God and the glory we are created to serve. The center is Christ, not us.
Our world and culture is much disturbed over human sin and the natural course toward death. People march in the streets crying for justice and peace, and we can feel with them the longing for that same justice and peace.
Perhaps we should raise our focus a tad higher. Rather than focus on justice, let us focus on The Judge. Rather than our peace, let us pursue the Peace-maker. Let us think not to save the world, but let us serve the Kingdom and reign of God.
We’re all for justice, peace, and changing the world, but let it be about the goodness of God and the good he intends for us rather than the self-seeking endgames of personal passions and self-advancements. If there are temples yet to be cleared, let’s consider which version of Jesus we expect to do the cleansing.