by the Rev. Dr. Paul
S. Nancarrow
This
sermon is based on John
6:51-58
and the
Collect for Proper 15. An audio version
of this sermon may be found here.
One of the things I
love about being an Episcopalian is our via media, our way of
seeking out what is best in both sides of a question or issue, and
then trying to hold what is best together in one comprehensive
understanding.
For instance: From the
earliest days of the Christian tradition, there have been two basic
ways of trying to understand how Jesus saves us, two fundamental
approaches to the theology of salvation, or soteriology as
it’s technically called.
One way of describing
how Jesus saves us is to say that Jesus gives us a great moral
example, that he shows us, by his teaching and by his living, how
we ought to live. Jesus exemplifies for us an ideal of how to love,
how to show compassion, how to serve the needs of others, how to
welcome the stranger, how to include the other, how to break down
barriers that separate us, how to speak truth to power, how to make
the decisions and take the actions that will add up to a good and
moral and fulfilling life. Jesus saves us because he shows us how to
live — and when we follow his example, when we accept his ideal as
our ideal, when we live like he lived, then we avoid the traps of sin
and we become truly pleasing to God.
This notion that Jesus
saves us by being a moral example can be found all through the
Christian tradition. It was favored by Jewish-Christians in the early
generations of the Church. It was taught by Peter Abelard in the
Middle Ages. It was embraced by Enlightenment thinkers like Thomas
Jefferson, who thought that all the miracles and supernatural
elements of the New Testament had to be done away with in modern
times, leaving the moral teaching of Jesus as the really important
and meaningful message. It is the sentiment behind the “What Would
Jesus Do?” slogan that was so popular a few years ago — and its
more recent spin-offs like “What Would Jesus Drive?” and “How
Would Jesus Vote?” and “What Would Jesus Occupy?”. Jesus as
moral example is deeply woven in our faith history.
And there is truth in
that: Jesus’ example is saving for us. But there’s also a
problem. We know, all too well, sometimes from painful experience, we
know that having an example and following that example
are not the same thing. We’ve all had the experience one time or
another of knowing perfectly well what we ought to do and then doing
something else, something that we know is not right and good and
true, but something that we do because in the moment it seems easier
or quicker or less threatening or something we can get away with. It
is a sad fact of sinful human nature that simply knowing the
good thing is not enough to guarantee we will have the strength and
courage and will and heart to do it. We need something more to
save us.
So there is a second
way of describing how Jesus saves us, a way that says Jesus does
for us what we cannot do for ourselves. This way of understanding
emphasizes that Jesus is the supernatural Son of God who becomes
human in order to offer the perfect atoning self-sacrifice that we
are too imperfect to offer; that Jesus pays the price for sin that we
are too flawed to pay; that Jesus bears the punishment for sin that
we are too weak and feeble and broken to bear for ourselves. Jesus
saves us because he sacrifices himself to make us right with God in
way that we ourselves could never do.
And this understanding
of salvation is also woven all through our history. It was embraced
by Hellenistic Christians in Alexandria in the 2nd and 3rd
centuries. It was taught by Anselm of Canterbury in the Middle Ages.
It was deeply influential in Calvin’s theology during the
Reformation and in the Presbyterian church that grew from that. And
you will still find it as a cornerstone of the teaching of many
Evangelical Protestant churches today. Jesus as the supernatural
savior who reaches down from heaven to pull us out of the muck of sin
in which we are stuck by ourselves is very much a part of our
tradition.
And there is truth in
that: Jesus does bring to us something we ourselves do not have. But
there’s also a problem. Focusing too much on how Jesus does what we
cannot do tends to leave us obsessed with what we cannot do: it tends
to concentrate our attention on sin and failure and the fear of
punishment: it can lead to being scrupulous and anxious about who’s
saved and who’s not saved, who’s in and who’s out, who’s with
us and who’s against us: it can lead to precisely the kind of
religion of fear that many people today say turns them against any
kind of religion at all. Too much emphasis on Jesus as superhuman
savior can leave us ordinary humans feeling pretty worthless, pretty
much like we cannot do anything worthwhile at all.
Two approaches to
salvation. Two ways of understanding how Jesus saves us. Both have
their strengths. Both have their weaknesses.
And one of the things I
love about being an Episcopalian is how our via media strives
to hold on to what is best in both sides in one comprehensive
understanding. It’s there in our collect today, when we pray to God
who has given Jesus “to be for us a sacrifice for sin, and also an
example of godly life.” A sacrifice and an example. Not
either/or. Both/and.
And I think the meaning
of that both/and comes through very clearly in our Gospel reading
today. “The bread that I will give for the life of the world,”
Jesus says, “is my flesh” — and I think that is pretty clearly
a reference to Jesus’ sacrificing himself, his flesh, to death on
the cross. But more than that, Jesus speaking about giving himself as
bread is a reference to sharing his life. “Those who eat my
flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them,” Jesus says,
“and they will live because of me” — and I think that is a
symbolic and graphic and arresting way of saying that Jesus is
willing to share his way of living, his vital essence, the thing that
makes him alive, with anyone who comes to him. Jesus in his perfect
devotion has his life from God; and anyone who shares Jesus’ life
shares life that comes from God; and sharing life that comes from God
makes it possible for us to do all kinds of things we would never be
able to do in the power of our human life alone. Abiding in the
life-power that comes from God gives us courage to venture good deeds
we never thought we’d be able to do; it gives us compassion to
reach out to others’ suffering even though it may lead to suffering
of our own; it gives us strength to make difficult decisions that we
know are the right thing to do even though they will certainly not be
easy; it gives us love to respond to what is best in others even when
they themselves might not see it; it gives us joy to sing and make
melody to the Lord in our hearts as we co-create with God the New
Creation in Christ that God wants us to be. In this Gospel promise of
communion in Christ’s body and blood, Jesus saves us by sacrificing
to make us right with God so that we are empowered to follow his
example and live with his life. Both/and.
And that’s what I
invite you to be thinking about as you come forward to receive this
communion today. As you take this bread and wine, as you partake of
this substance of Jesus’ own life, I want you to be mindful of how
Jesus is sharing with you a dimension of divine vitality, how Jesus
is communicating to you an energy of living, that is more then you’d
have on your own. And as you leave this communion rail, as you leave
this church today and go out into the world, I want you to ask
yourself how you will use that energy of communion, that vitality
dwelling in you, to do Jesus-like things, to follow Jesus’ example
in how you live. Who will you show love to today? With whom will you
share compassion? Whose needs will you serve? Whom will you forgive?
How will you bear witness to good news? What beauty of creation will
you reveal? How will you know in your inmost heart that God is with
you, that you are God’s beloved daughter, God’s beloved son?
Today, how will you follow the example set by Jesus, using the life
that dwells in you from Jesus’ redeeming work?
That is what we pray
for today. Let us live that prayer in all we do. Amen.
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