The Good Stuff--August 6, 2024

The Good Stuff--August 6, 2024

"When [the crowds] found him on the other side of the sea, they said to him, 'Rabbi, when did you come here?' Jesus answered them, 'Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For it is on him that God the Father has set his seal." [John 6:25-27]

You know the scene: you go to a nice restaurant, and after your server brings you a basket of rolls wrapped elegantly in a cloth napkin, someone wisely reminds the table: "Don't fill up on bread--the entrees here are so good you'll want to have room to eat your meal!"  And sure, you probably already know not to fill up on bread before the salad course even comes, but it's worth remembering.  It's not really much different from the same reminder I give to my kids when they are circling the pantry like sharks in the water shortly before dinner, insisting they are "starving right now," and when I tell them that if they eat junk food now before dinner they won't feel hungry when the real food is set out, and then they'll end up hungry again (for junk food) late at night.  And that's not good.  So, yeah, don't fill up on bread... or chips and salsa... or any of those things.  You don't want to miss out on the good stuff.

Well, if you have been either on the giving or the receiving end of that bit of culinary wisdom, then you also know where Jesus is coming from when he talks to the crowds who had been fed by the thousands on the shores of the Sea of Galilee.  The day after the miraculous "feeding of the five thousand," Jesus has made his way across to an opposite shore near Capernaum, and the same crowds have tracked him down.  Jesus knows, of course, that what got their attention was the free lunch from the day before, and not just the food but the spectacle of it all.  And it's not that it was wrong or sinful somehow that they ate that miraculous feast--no, of course not, since Jesus was the one who had offered to provide the meal for them all.  But it's more that Jesus doesn't want them to fill up on bread, so to speak, and to miss... the good stuff.  Jesus doesn't want them to miss out on the even more glorious gift he has to offer them in himself.

"Don't work for the food that perishes," he says, "but for what truly lasts."  And he's not talking about Twinkies (despite their famously long shelf-life).  It's more about not spending your life pursuing things that may not be "evil" but are ultimately empty.  Like Jesus says in Mark's Gospel, "What will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?"  Or like he teaches in the Sermon on the Mount, "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."  The same theme runs throughout Jesus' teaching--that while there may not be anything innately wicked about having clothes, food, or a house, if we center our lives on just accumulating more and more possessions, we're missing out on what live is really all about.  We're filling up on bread or chips for the moment, and missing out on partaking of The Good Stuff--the kind of life that Jesus shares with us.

It's worth noting that the early church understood it, too. The first Christians continued to pass along the teaching they first learned from Jesus that when we chase after money or status or privilege or power as the center of our lives (things which may by themselves be morally neutral), they very easily become obstacles that get in the way of participating in the fullness of life God intends for us.  The late New Testament letter we call First Timothy, for example, closes with these words of guidance (and warning):  "As for those who in the present age are rich, command them not to be haughty, or to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but on God who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. They are to do good, to be rich in good works, generous, and ready to share, thus storing up for themselves the treasure of a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of the life that really is life" (1 Tim. 6:17-19).  We're back to a question of gorging ourselves on junk food a few minutes before dinner, or instead filling our plates with what is genuinely satisfying.

A culture like ours has a hard time even imagining that "more" isn't always better, or that having more "stuff" might be incompatible with a truly fulfilling life.  But Jesus has been telling us as much all along.  It's fine to have been fed with loaves and fishes at the Miraculous Meal Jesus hosted on the shores of Galilee in the first century, or to have gotten to eat breakfast today in the twenty-first century. But it is a terrible shame if we let shortsighted interests like making a larger pile of money, or getting a grander house, or obsessing over the day's close in the stock market get in the way of "the life that really is life," which is centered on what Jesus gives.  It's like skipping the gourmet meal and the perfect glass of wine because you filled up on stale potato chips and Mountain Dew before dinner was served.

I don't know about you, but I want to taste the good stuff--even if that means recognizing that what Jesus knows about the REAL "good stuff" sounds crazy to a culture fooled into believing it's all about bigger bank accounts and fancier possessions.  I want to dare to trust Jesus and not to fill up on empty spiritual calories, but to partake of what will really nourish me.  I want to spend my life on what matters, even if it's not the same as what the Talking Heads on television or Experts in Success think matters.  I want to savor what endures, not to fill up on garbage.  And if that's where you are, too, then maybe we can share this life in community, striving to encourage each other to take up Jesus' invitation to center our lives on the Really Real, on the food that endures, on the treasure that doesn't rust or corrode.  Maybe that's why we live this life as Christians together, as table companions in the Beloved Community: because together we can remind each other of the wisdom some part of us already knew--don't fill up on dinner rolls.  Focus on partaking of the good stuff.

Lord Jesus, help us today to stop chasing after illusions and empty calories of the soul, and to be fed with what really lasts--your own life and love.