Neither Hunger nor Thirst
Ordinary Time XVIII; August 6, 2006
John 6:24-35
“Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” (v. 35) Having grown up as a typical middle-class white American Protestant, I always interpreted the promise of Jesus spiritually. After all, you and I have come to Jesus and believe in him, yet we get hungry and thirsty. So, we always figure, he could not have meant physical hunger and thirst.
Now I am convinced that to make that separation between physical and spiritual is wrong. Jesus meant what he said, and meant it both ways.
It is clear that he means something more than bread and wine to satisfy physical hunger and thirst, given his statements such as, “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.” To put it briefly: God has sent Christ to us for something bigger and more lasting than the sorts of things that we focus on most of the time. You know the bumper sticker: “I Owe, I Owe, So Off to Work I Go.” Somebody in each family here – and frequently two somebodies – puts in or used to put in at least forty hours a week to work for the food that perishes, as well as the mortgage payment, braces on children’s teeth, taxes, books, and occasional opportunities to have fun. So Jesus reminds us gently that there are bigger things to focus on, things that are more lasting.
After the attacks of September 11, 2001, most of us paused to think about those bigger things. Someone wiser than I put it this way: Let’s not just work at making a living, but work at making a life. So Jesus calls himself the “bread of life.” The gift he offers to people is the opportunity to look beyond simply making a living to making a life.
In case you have forgotten, here are some thoughts on what that means. The big one, of course, is the hope of life eternal. On warm summer days after a storm, when you are young and healthy, it’s easy to forget that we all have the same destination. Lots of philosophies and lots of religions have taught the possibility of life beyond the grave, but so far as we know only one human being has ever blazed the way through and held the door open for the rest of us. By coming to Christ now and believing in him now, you have the chance to start working on what it means to live in him for eternity, to shape the person you can be for eternity. And that’s bigger than the food and drink anyone can offer you.
Most of us hunger and thirst for learning, as well. Yes, of course, there are people who choose to stop learning as soon as they can. You can count them among the dead long before they are buried. There is always something to learn for those who live in Christ. Christ opens the way to learn about God, the way to learn about ourselves, the way to learn about life together. You can learn from books, learn from the Bible, learn by pausing to listen and reflect during your prayer time, learn by listening to someone else who’s excited or sad or disappointed or hopeful or angry or grateful. For those who live in Christ, there is always an opportunity to learn. Even beyond the grave, I think, we learn – for if suddenly everything became clear to us, wouldn’t that make eternity dreadfully dull? Most of us picture heaven as folks with wings playing harps, floating on clouds and feeling happy. Bo-ring! Christ offers life, not boredom.
Learning from and about Christ is not always easy, especially emotionally. Our natural tendency as human beings is to aggression and to prefer our own tribe over others; these tendencies bump up against Jesus’ clear teaching to make peace and to love our enemies. Today is the 61st anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima and Wednesday of the bombing of Nagasaki, which was the heart of Japanese Christianity, and you may find yourself hearing or reading about the Christian struggle over violence and peace.1 The struggle between our natural tendencies and the call of Christ is not easy, but it gives depth and meaning to our living.
During the 1964 presidential campaign, Hubert Humphrey delivered a long, important speech and afterward was warmly praised by many friends. When he turned to his wife Muriel for her comment, she said, “Hubert, to be eternal you don’t have to be endless.”2 In order to avoid being endless, I’ll turn to the other point now: when Christ said that those who come to him and believe in him neither hunger nor thirst, I think he also meant that literally.
The followers of Christ are intended to be a sharing, open people. Our lives are to be so intertwined with one another, so mutually dependent, that it would be impossible for one of us to go hungry or thirsty. I’m not talking about charity, but about the way family looks after one another. Of course, there are two things necessary to make this work: generosity and humility. If you’re in trouble, you can’t be too proud to let anyone know. If you have a place at your table for a sister or brother in Christ, you can’t be too stingy to offer it.
Of course, we do not limit our generosity to the family of Christ. The foodstuffs you have brought and placed in front of the Table and that will go to the food bank at the Community Center are for everyone, not just for church members. But life in Christ means life together with other Christians, means that we have a sort of big family dinner table. Whenever I go to a church pot-luck supper, I like to joke that the only thing Presbyterians like better than being together is eating together. I suspect that is true of all Christians, of everyone who is receiving life from the Son of God. Those who come to Christ and believe in Christ never hunger nor thirst because the family looks after each other.
Consider the ritual meal we will share in a few minutes. We eat and drink together around one Table, a meal that feeds our spiritual hunger and thirst. I know that many churches let you eat and drink at their Holy Table only if you line up with their doctrine, with their church order; that is not so with us. If you want to eat and drink with Jesus and with his people, you are welcome at this Table.
This meal means many things, and some of those things are symbolic. This meal represents the Marriage Feast of the Lamb, which we shall enjoy in the eternal Kingdom of God. It represents the way Jesus feeds us spiritually day after day. And it represents the family dinner table, where those who follow Jesus make sure that no one goes hungry or thirsty. You could say it stands for the goulash, bread and fruit that we will share at Faith, Food and Fellowship this afternoon.3 Because this meal and this Table are sacred, and Christ is present with us here, Christ is with us at every table when his people are together, sharing bread and wine, sharing life.
Come, risen Lord, and deign to be our guest;
Nay, let us be Thy guests; the feast is Thine;
Thyself at Thine own board make manifest
In Thine own sacrament of bread and wine.4
Robert A. Keefer
Westminster Presbyterian Church
Clarinda, Iowa
[1] For example, this essay by Dr. Gary Kohls: www.lewrockwell.com/orig5/kohls3.html
2 Art Linkletter, I Wish I’d Said That! (Pocket Books, 1969), p. 34.
3 A weekly supper, mostly for the needy, coordinated by folks from the United Methodist Church, and provided by several groups. This week was our turn to provide supper.
4 George Wallace Briggs, 1931; #503 in The Presbyterian Hymnal (1990).