September 22, 2024
John 6:56-69
Introduction
“But Jesus, being aware that his disciples were complaining about [his teaching], said to them, ‘Does this offend you?’”
A lot of people have the idea that Jesus was always so meek and mild. And sure, it’s true to an extent, but to think Jesus was only meek and mild is to have a narrow perspective of Jesus because there was some edginess to Jesus. And our text for today offers us an example of such. Jesus knows there are followers of his who are not very happy with his teachings, and as a result, they are grumbling and complaining. In response, Jesus addresses their complaints, but also their attitudes, asking, “Does this offend you?” Do my teachings upset you? Are my commands making you mad? You gotta admire Jesus’ directness—it’s hardly meek and mild.
And since Jesus asked his audience then if they were offended, it seems fitting we ask this same question of ourselves today…Raise your hand if you are offended by today’s Gospel. Who here has been offended by Jesus’ teachings? Anyone? No one? Let me ask you this then… When was the last time Jesus offended you? When has he said something that caused you to stop and say, “No way Jesus. You’re asking too much. I’m out!”? Which of his teachings has caused you to think or say, “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?” When have you wanted to turn back from following his way because it was more than you could handle?
I don’t hear many people today talking about getting stopped in their tracks over Jesus’ teachings. I don’t hear complaining about its difficulties or being offended by what he says and does. And when I look at my own life, I don’t see myself taking offense at or complaining about Jesus either. But why? Why aren’t we more offended by Jesus? Why aren’t we getting stopped in our tracks and then complaining “No way Jesus. You’re asking too much” when it comes to living out the Gospel? Are we all just in right step with Jesus and his teachings and commands? Or could the reason we are not complaining be that we have actually made the Gospel comfortable, and therefore we have nothing to complain about? Afterall, who complains to their host when asked, “Are you comfortable, can I get you anything?” “You know, these accommodations are actually too comfortable!” We would never make such a complaint. But is the Gospel of Jesus Christ supposed to be comfortable? Sure, it brings comfort through hope, peace, joy, grace and love. But is getting to those blessings…comfortable? Have they ever been?
Move 1
The people in today’s Gospel—many of whom are Jesus’ Disciples, though beyond the original 12— were grumbling and complaining to each other that his teaching was difficult and more than they could accept. And as a result, “Many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him.” They could no longer stomach his Gospel and what it asked of them. The bread of life, so it seems, had gotten hard and crusty.
And it’s not just in today’s Gospel something like this happens. Remember the rich man who went away grieving, shocked because Jesus told him to sell what he owned, give the money to the poor, and then come follow him (Mark 10:17-22)?
Or how about that time Jesus went back to Nazareth and taught in the synagogue “and they took offense at him.”? (Matthew 13:57; Mark 6:3) In Luke’s version of that story the people are so angry they want to throw Jesus off a cliff. (Luke 4:29)
Also, there was the time Jesus called the Pharisees hypocrites, and you can be certain they were offended. (Matthew 15:1-12) And then, during the Passover meal that would become the Last Supper, Jesus told his disciples how that night they all will be scandalized, accused, and backed into corners to the point of desperation and even betrayal. (Matthew 26:31). You can be certain at the offense taken after three long years of loyalty—and yet we see it in Peter’s denial and Judas’ betrayal.
So what about us? In light of these examples, I’ll ask my question again… Who here has been offended by Jesus’ teachings? Anyone? Truthfully, I don’t think we want to be offended—but not for the obvious reasons that he is our Lord and Savior. I don’t think we want to be offended by Jesus because being offended by Jesus might reveal parts of us we don’t want to see or hear about.
I am confident most of us have never considered being offended by Jesus and his Gospel. But what if we should be offended?
Move 2
The people in today’s Gospel are grumbling, complaining, and taking offense. They know Jesus isn’t simply talking about bread and wine. He’s talking about a life that is uncomfortably real. And Jesus is teaching how the Gospel is uncomfortably real because if he doesn’t then the Gospel won’t offend us; the Gospel won’t cause us to stop and think and hesitant to have parts revealed we don’t want to hear about.
If the Gospel does not offend it asks nothing of us. It’s food out of a wrapper—an impulse buy near the check-out register— but it’s not the bread of life. It’s just some nice thoughts, suggestions about how to live, sprinkled with some feel-good verses we memorize. But there is no life within us. This kind of gospel becomes what Dietrich Bonhoeffer called “cheap grace.”
When the Gospel gets uncomfortably real, that’s when we get offended, and maybe even go away as some followers did. But getting offended is exactly what is necessary if Jesus’ followers are going to help lead others to the Good News. Let me give you some examples.
No one is offended when Jesus tells us to love our neighbor. Love isn’t offensive, it’s good news for everyone. That is until our neighbor is someone who looks, acts, and believes differently from us. That’s when the Gospel is uncomfortably real.
Forgiveness is good. It’s part of a healthy relationship. We’re all in favor of forgiveness, at least in theory. But forgiveness doesn’t happen in theory. Forgiveness happens in the moments when someone has hurt or betrayed us, someone who may not even care, someone who may continue to hurt us. You mean I have to forgive even them? That’s when the Gospel is uncomfortably real.
Jesus said that whatever we do, or do not do, for the “least of these” we either do, or do not do, for him—giving examples, including one about welcoming strangers. We are to welcome the stranger as Jesus because Jesus is in every stranger, every person in need. That’s beautiful until the stranger is a migrant at our border, or a refugee in our town. That’s when the Gospel is uncomfortably real.
Jesus called us to take up our cross, and we love the cross of Jesus. We wear it, hang it on our walls, and decorate with it. It reminds us of how much Jesus loves us. We know it means denying ourselves and following him. But what happens when we’re asked to give up our individual autonomy or change an aspect of our life for the well-being of someone else? That’s when the cross becomes uncomfortably real.
Move 2
If loving, forgiving, welcoming, taking up our cross—and a thousand other lessons and commands Jesus taught and did—do not offend and challenge us, if they don’t cause us to look at how were are living, make us reconsider our beliefs and actions, then maybe the Gospel just isn’t all that real for us. Maybe we’ve disembodied the Gospel and separated the Word from everyday reality.
Which means we have to ask, if the Gospel is not uncomfortably real, then what difference does it make? Why are we even here today? I hope we are here because we want to live out the Gospel—even though it gets uncomfortably real. I hope we are here today because we know the teachings of Jesus are difficult but nonetheless, we accept them. I hope we are here today because we are unwilling to turn back—as some did, and still do—and we are still willing to go about with Jesus. Jesus calls us to live a Gospel that is uncomfortably real, knowing it’s hard and will be offend us. I hope the Gospel never loses its power to offend. I hope you and I never lose our capacity to be offended.
These are my hopes because when the Gospel is offensive it is showing us something about ourselves that is uncomfortably real. Every time the Gospel offends us, we are looking in a mirror and made to see a limitation in our life. It reveals the limits of our love, forgiveness, welcome; the limits of our justice, peacemaking, compassion; the limits of our life and humanity.
And absolutely the revealing of limitations is uncomfortable, but what is revealed to us is exactly what points the way to new life and more life. This uncomfortable reality holds up that mirror and forces us to see the times, and ways, we have heard Jesus’ question, “Do you also wish to go away?” and we said yes. And yet… It also reminds us of the times when we, like Peter, said, “Lord to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.”
Conclusion
What if we should be offended by Jesus and the Gospel? What if our offense at the Gospel is not a failure but an opportunity for “life and life abundant” (John 10:10)? What if what offends us is opening a door to new life and calling us to grow and change? What if each limitation we have to face in the mirror is a starting line and not the end of the line?
“Do you also wish to go away?” That’s the question Jesus asked the offended disciples. It’s the question we face every time we are offended and made to face our limitations. It’s the question we face every time the situation is difficult, messy, unclear, and asks more of us than we want to give.
Sometimes the answer is yes. Sometimes we turn back, and we defend ourselves rather than let ourselves be offended. Other times, however, we trust that the very person or situation that offends us is “the Holy One of God” and has “the words of eternal life.”
Which is it for us today? Which will it be for us tomorrow? Will we be comfortable? Or will we be uncomfortably real? The choice is ours. Amen.
Pastoral Prayer, September 22, 2024
Almighty God, you have provided us with bread from heaven through your incarnate Son, and we give you thanks for this gift, and for the Good News Jesus brought, for it has enlivened our lives with hope, peace, joy, grace, and love—blessings we continue to need in each new day.
We have, though, taken offense at Jesus’ invitation to abide in him by embracing the teachings and commands of his Good News. We abide in the command of loving others, but we prefer to love from a distance. We abide in the teaching that the rich should sell all they have and give it to the poor, but we prefer our definition of who is rich, for it never includes us. We abide in the call to take up our cross and follow Jesus, but we prefer an easy cross, one that doesn’t demand too much time or effort.
We admit Holy God, many of us have walked away from the cross because it is contrary to our understanding of justice, mercy, and grace. It is uncomfortable and even offensive that its grace is extended to any and all. We would rather have an exclusive version of redemption that does not require us to immerse ourselves in the messiness and humiliation of a crucifixion and the communal offering of a Savior broken for our sake and for the sake of all people everywhere.
Forgive us Lord. Forgive us for being so easily offended. Forgive us for turning our backs and walking away when we feel you have asked too much. Forgive us for making your Good News into what it is not—comfortable. Forgive us, then call us again to take up our cross, assuring us that though it will be uncomfortable, following Jesus and his teachings and commands will always guide us to eternal life, and the holy one of God—who is always willing, even if we are walking away, to extend hope, peace, joy, grace, and love.
We ask that you would listen to the prayers of our hearts as we lift them in this time of Holy Silence.
All this we pray in the name of Christ Jesus, our Lord and Savior, who calls us to follow him always, who taught us to pray saying, “Our..”