Texts: Exodus 16: 2-4, 9-15, 31-35; John 6:24-35
We are living in hard times. Words don’t begin to say what needs to be said.
However, we are not the first people to live in hard times. And we will not be the last.
This is a time for us to lean hard on faith. Some of us will find faith an easy companion right now; others will find it hard to come by. One of the joys of being in a faith community is that we don’t all have to have faith at any given time. We lean on each other. We share faith together.
Together, we have what is called a spiritual heritage. It is many things, including a body of stories that have been told for centuries and centuries. Stories about people, and their joys and sorrows as they moved through life. Stories about people making sense of that which is bigger than themselves: community, nation, God. We will need to lean on that heritage in these times, more than ever before.
That heritage tells us that our spiritual ancestors endured profound suffering time and time again. One example of this is the wilderness wanderings of the ancient Hebrew people. They had lived as slaves in Egypt, until God called and equipped Moses to lead them to freedom. But before they could get to the Promised Land - a land of milk and honey, a place where every need was met - they were stuck wandering in the desert wilderness for years. For forty years, the story says.
Today we heard a story from the six week mark. Six weeks into their journey. The reality of their situation had set in. And all of a sudden, their previous situation in Egypt didn’t seem so bad. They had reliable shelter and food then, at least.
We often see things differently looking back than how we feel at the time. I wonder how many of us look back just a couple weeks and think: “gee, I’d trade anything to be dealing with all the stuff I was dealing with then.” There’s a long history of interpreting this Exodus story by being really hard on the people so let us not make that same mistake. After six weeks of wilderness wanderings, I’d be wanting to go home too! Some complaints are worth making. “You have brought us,” they complained to Moses, “You have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.”
I wonder what complaints you have right now.
God heard their complaints, and responded, by raining manna down upon them. This odd, flaky substance that had something to do with quails. And the people had no idea what it was. “What is it?” they wondered. And Moses told them, “this is the bread the Lord has given you to eat.”
There are lots of ways to imagine the peoples’ reaction to this story. Were they relieved because they finally had something to eat? Perhaps. I imagine however that they were also grieving. Because this substance on the ground, that they did not recognize, was not what they knew to be bread. It was not the food they knew. It was something completely different. And tradition has generally said it didn’t taste that great. Mixed with whatever relief they experienced was almost certainly grief at yet another reminder of all they had lost. That they may never again taste the bread they knew and had taken for granted.
As it turns out, manna was their food for forty years. They came to appreciate it more. Eventually it became their food. Some died never having tasted the old bread again. And this experience - manna in the desert - this became a defining story for the people of Israel. A story about God provided them what they needed in their moment of deep distress. Interpreters today try to make sense of this miracle in different ways. Some say that the manna was a naturally occurring thing that the people gave God credit for. I don’t think that’s the point of the story. The point is that when the people thought they had lost everything and couldn’t take another step, they discovered something they hadn’t seen before, sustenance to see them through. They discovered manna. Bread from heaven. It was not what they would have chosen. But it was enough to see them through. It was enough.
This story popped up in our gospel reading today among a different group of people looking for something to see them through during the time of Jesus. Jesus had just fed 5,000 people, which is important to remember. He had already met their physical needs. But then he was saying a bunch of confusing stuff about working not for food that perishes but food that endures for eternal life. And the people asked him quite reasonably, how are we supposed to believe you. Our ancestors ate manna in the wilderness. What will you do? And Jesus responded speaking of the bread of God, that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.”
The bread of God, Jesus says, is that which gives life to the world. And that bread is available to us all, regardless of the circumstances in which we find ourselves. That is the true manna, bread from heaven.
And that manna, that bread from heaven is available to you and to me during this time. Our task is to prepare ourselves to see it. It is the sustenance for our journey that keeps us going during times of profound suffering and trauma. For it is in the furnace of suffering that faith is most sharply forged.
Bread from heaven today is
- People volunteering to get groceries for strangers.
- Teachers working to help their students and their own children.
- The wonder of a connection over phone lines and internet signals.
- Dedication of healthcare and grocery store workers
- A moment when for one reason or another you start to laugh.
- Public health officials sacrificing endlessly for the greater good
- It is the love we share with those in our lives
- A moment, even just a second, of calm and peace in the midst of it all
In the days ahead, I will be sharing as many resources as I can with you for living faithfully in these times: for praying and worshiping and grieving, for caring for yourself and others.
But ultimately we all must learn to see the bread of heaven in our own lives. Maybe you can see it now. But maybe you’re looking around like our ancestors all around and asking “what is it?”. If that’s you that’s okay. Super okay. But, opening yourself up to the bread of heaven, finding what that looks like in your own life circumstances, that is your task for this week. And I know you don’t want another task, but it is the task that will make everything else possible.
Because this is going to get harder, not easier. The Hebrew people first found manna six weeks into their journey, and they needed it every day since then for forty years. Our survival - yes, our survival - depends on finding the bread from heaven in our own lives. On developing the ability to see the gifts of God in weird flaky substances on the ground.
The good news is the bread of God is here, it is offered to each and every one of us. It is not what we would have chosen, not by a long shot. It is not the same bread we are used to. But it is bread nonetheless, as soon as we learn to discover it. There is hope for weary souls, even in these times. Especially in these times.
Whatever else my job is now, it is to tell the truth as clearly as I can. And here it is: we are facing a challenge none of us have faced in our lifetime. And, our God is a God who has lived human life with us, who has seen suffering we can scarcely imagine even now. Whatever else God is, God is that mysterious power that allows us to endure, God is manna in the wilderness, God is bread from heaven for you and for me. God is here, and God is for us. May we learn to receive the ultimate gift: “that which comes down from heaven, and gives life to the world.” For God gives us that bread, always and forever.
Amen.
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