Jesus Walks [Proper 12B - John 6:1-21]

 The Rt. Rev. Jeremiah Williamson

John 6:1-21

 

Jesus Walks

St. John’s, Ogdensburg

 

He just walked away.  The bread was still warm.  The fish were still fresh.  The crowds had never been more enthused, never more ready to embrace his reign.  And Jesus just walked away.

 

Like he had done his entire life.  The temptations from the desert, from the haunted wilderness, from the days just after his baptism, never left him alone.  They would fade for a time, but they would come back.  Always whispering about a throne.  Playing the songs of national triumph through his mind: songs of power and might and success, the songs they play for mighty kings.  And promising long life.  Certainly no cross.

 

The crowds, on that day, in this Gospel, they were convinced that he was the one.  And so they decided to come and take him by force to make him king.

 

Convinced that he was the one: in this Gospel lesson, but not always.  Throughout the Gospels the people prove to be quite fickle.  Sometimes they love Jesus; some days they are enthralled by his teachings and desperate for his healings.  And sometimes they turn on Jesus; some days they find his teachings abrasive and his miracles insufficient.  Sometimes they sing, “Hosanna!”  Sometimes they cry, “Crucify him!” 

 

The truth is: these same crowds will even tire of Jesus before this chapter of John’s Gospel comes to a close.  But today, in these verses, they are on fire for Jesus.  And for good reason.  He fed them.  It seems, according to our Gospel reading, that the people quite enjoyed the bread and fish that Jesus provided; they ate until their appetites were satisfied, until their bellies were full.  It was good.  It was all-you-can-eat.  And it was free.  People love a value.  But what really excited them followed the meal, the dessert.  After the food was collected into baskets what was left was the tantalizing aroma of possibility.  Because Jesus made this food – by miracle.  He made a lot from a little, abundance where once there had only been scarcity.  That is exactly what they wanted in their lives.

 

To not have to struggle.  It was hard work to coax wheat from the rocky ground.  To grind the flour and knead the dough and bake the loaf.  And it all took patience.  And time.  And there was never enough, bread or money, to truly get ahead.  But Jesus made bread in an instant – and there was more than enough. 

 

And also fishing was hard work.  Sometimes the fish weren’t biting.  And the nets needed mending.  And the boats required upkeep.  Occasionally half of your crew would just wander off to follow a charismatic preacher.  And there was never enough, fish or money, to truly get ahead.  You had to show up every day and grind – just to survive, to feed and shelter a family.  But Jesus made fish in an instant – and, on that mountain, with that Jesus, there was more than enough.

 

And so of course they wanted him to be king.  They wanted to live in that moment of perfect provision forever.  And the thing about kings is, you know where to find them.  Kings sit on thrones; they are locked up in royal palaces.  They are easy to find; they don’t wander around.  They wanted Jesus to settle down, to stay in his place.  And if he did, if they always knew where to find him, if this Jesus was their king, they would never be hungry.  And he was also a healer.  And so they would never be sick, would never suffer. 

 

It was selfish, but not entirely selfish; also they were thinking of the nation as a whole.  They were an occupied people, an oppressed community.  They were fed up with the Romans and their laws and their gods and their horrible, horrible crosses.  Jesus could be the king who set them free.  The Messiah.  Riches would surely follow the miracles and the wisdom and the food production.  And so, with Jesus as their king, they would be rich.  And the riches would mean power.  And the power would mean freedom.

 

There was no apparent downside.  And so they decided to make Jesus their king.  And while the Gospel says, “take him by force,” who wouldn’t want to be king?  They were really bestowing an honor, a tremendous honor, by force.

 

And Jesus walked away – from the throne, from the palace, from the power.  And with him went their dream of an easy life.  And the people would, once again, prove fickle.  They would turn on him.  Because Jesus didn’t give them what they wanted; Jesus didn’t value what they valued.  Even though they tried to take him by force, they didn’t really want Jesus; they wanted what they thought he should give them: an easy life.

 

Certainly not a cross.  Every temptation that Jesus faced in his life, including this popular attempt at promotion, was meant to be a detour around that horrible cross.  The people knew, what the tempter in the wilderness knew, what Jesus couldn’t seem to understand: a little compromise was all it would take.  A little less talk of justice, a little less radical love, a little less offensive mercy, a little more commercial appeal, and it could have been crown instead of cross.  If you think about it, and give them the benefit of the doubt, the people were probably actually just trying to save Jesus from himself.

 

Jesus had unlimited potential.  He could have lived the good life.  But he was walking towards the cross, in the direction of pain and suffering and death.  And those things are terrible and painful and hard.  Someone with Jesus’ talents shouldn’t have to have a hard life.  That’s what the devil told him in the wilderness.  That is what the crowds are reminding him in this Gospel.  He could wear a crown of gold instead of a crown of thorns.

 

But way of Jesus is not the way of convenience, it is the way of love.  And Jesus wouldn’t take a detour from the way of love.  And so, in this Gospel, he walked away.

 

It seems possible that, in that moment, the disciples thought he wasn’t coming back, and so as darkness fell, they took to the sea.  And in the boat, without Jesus, things got rough.  Because, well, that’s life: sometimes things do get rough.  For the second time that day, the disciples were reminded that Jesus doesn’t shield people from hard times.  Jesus did not keep them out of the water, but Jesus was there when times got hard.  This time, as the waves rocked them, Jesus walked their way.      

 

What the people on that mountain didn’t understand was that Jesus doesn’t make life convenient or easy.  He makes life worth living.  The way of love is not paved in gold.  It can get rocky.  It certainly did for Jesus.  And yet he calls us to walk that same way of love.  In this age of easy answers and instant gratification, Jesus offers us a better way.  It is the example he set for us, the path he paved for us, the hill he died on: peace in an age of violence, mercy in ruthless times, truth in an age of spin.  Jesus calls us to live with open hearts, even though that is dangerous, to trust our lives to the strong hands of God, even when that feels like a risk.  And, above all, to love with relentless abandon, even though the cost of love is often steep. 

 

It is probably not our preference, to take the lumps of love, but Jesus doesn’t always give us what we want.  Not every day is easy, not every decision simple, not every situation crisp or clear.  But does Jesus give us what we need: Jesus. 

 

The people were looking for Jesus to make things easy, to give them a way out.  But the way of Jesus isn’t out; it is in.  Jesus refused to be locked away in a posh royal palace, boxed in and on call, a genie granting our wishes.  Jesus came for the struggle.  He gave up paradise to be in it with us.  Love matters because it lives amongst the pain; grace shines because life is hard.  Jesus lives and loves in this turbulent world, this world, our world.  He is not holed up in a marble throne room or trapped in some distant heaven.  Jesus sits in the dirt with us when our strength fails; Jesus rides the waves with us when the storms of life rage; Jesus holds on tight to us in perilous times.  And never lets go.