Category: Sermons

Mildred, the church gossip, and self-appointed monitor of the church’s morals, kept sticking her nose into other people’s business. Several members did not approve of her extra curricular activities, but feared her enough to maintain their silence.

She made a mistake, however, when she accused George, a new member, of being an alcoholic after she saw his old pickup parked in front of the town’s only bar one afternoon. She emphatically told George and several others that everyone seeing it there would know what he was a drunk.

George, a man of few words, stared at her for a moment and just turned and walked away. He didn’t explain, defend, or deny. He said nothing.

On an evening later in the week, when Mildred’s husband was out of town on business, George quietly parked his pickup in front of Mildred’s house, walked home, and left it there all night.

There will always be the Mildred’s of the world. Those who are quick to point out the moral faults of others, tear them down (many times using the Holy Scripture to do it), turn their noses up in disgust, and dismiss them as unfit to associate with.

Unfortunately Mildred’s behavior is not limited to individuals. Have you ever known a church to behave in such a way? Have you ever known a church that was quick to point out the moral faults of others, tear them down (many times using the Holy Scripture to do it), turn their noses up in disgust, and dismiss them as unfit to associate with; categorizing them as degenerates. Immoral. Unclean. Scandalous. Say it ain’t so! Of course you have. We all have. And our Patron Saint, Matthew, was on the receiving end of such behavior.

“As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax booth; and he said to him, ‘Follow me.’” In the eyes of the people, Matthew had three strikes against him. First, he worked for the IRS – no explanation needed. Second, he was a Jew working for the IRS, collecting money from other Jews and probably cheating his own people by collecting a bit extra for himself. Third, he was a Jew, working for the IRS, and the IRS was an agency of the of the Romans, the oppressive regime that was occupying the land. Three strikes, you’re out. He was collecting money for the enemy and stealing from his own people. The Pharisees asked the disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” In effect they looked at Matthew and the others Jesus was associating with and declared them degenerates. Immoral. Unclean. Scandalous. My goodness.

Sometimes, it would seem, that not much has changed in the last 2,000 years, but whether Jesus likes it or not, it really does have to be that way. Doesn’t it? After all, we can’t have any sinners in church. That just will not do, we must send them packing. The degenerates, immoral, and unclean must go. For the likes of them to remain in the church would be scandalous. Last one out, please turn off the lights and lock the door! We’ll call a realtor and put the church property up for sale tomorrow.

This is too long of a quote to read to you in a sermon, but its too good of a quote not to. From the 100th Archbishop of Canterbury, Michael Ramsey, “History shows that attempts to be rid of the scandal of the Church, by puritanically turning out people who don’t conform to certain moral standards, cause more evils than they cure… Attempts to purge the Church like that break down because it is so easy to turn out those who by their actions have failed to uphold those standards, while leaving inside the Church the smug people, the proud people, the prigs and the hypocrites. The Christian Church was never meant to be a Society of the Moral, but rather a Society of the Forgiven, and of those who put themselves in the way of divine forgiveness; a society ready to carry within its embrace many who have fatally compromised, and all who are unworthy—for all of us are unworthy: the mixed society of those called to be saints.”

A story. In the past, it was just that, a story, but these days the beginning is almost a bit too real.

There is a two thousand member church and on one Sunday it is filled to overflowing capacity. The preacher was ready to start the sermon when several men, dressed in long black coats and black hats entered through the rear of the church.

One of the two men walked to the middle of the church while the others stayed at the back. At once, they all reached under their coats and withdrew automatic weapons.

The one in the middle announced, “Everyone willing to take a bullet for Jesus stay in your seats!”

Naturally, the pews emptied, followed by most of the choir. The deacons ran out the door, followed by the assistant pastor.

After a few moments, there were about twenty people left sitting in the church. The preacher was holding steady in the pulpit.

When it was quiet, the men put their weapons away and said, gently, to the preacher, “All right, pastor, the hypocrites are gone now. You may begin the service.”

On one level I want to like that story. It speaks about standing firm for your faith, but on another level, I’m not so sure. Twenty out of two thousand remained and the 1,980 that left are called hypocrites. But what if we rephrase that in the terms of our Gospel reading. Jesus said, “For I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.” What if those twenty that remained were the righteous and those 1,980 that fled were in fact degenerates? Immoral. Unclean. Scandalous. What if they were the sinners? Would Jesus have condemned them has “Hypocrites” and turned his back on them? Would he have shouted, “Let them go! We’re better off without them.” No. Instead he would have gone in search of each and everyone of them and when he found them, he would have sat down with them, eaten with them, and spoken to them of the salvation he was offering.

Jesus says, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, `I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’” Jesus would not have seen those 1,980 as hypocrites. He would have seen them as those in need of a physician. In need of a healer of souls. He would have withheld judgment in favor of extending mercy. I believe Jesus expects the same from His Church.

In Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice, Portia says:

“The quality of mercy is not strained.
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed:
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.
‘Tis mightiest in the mightiest. It becomes
The thronèd monarch better than his crown.
His scepter shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings,
But mercy is above this sceptered sway.
It is enthronèd in the hearts of kings.
It is an attribute to God himself.

Mercy is in the heart of kings, it is an attribute of God, and it is the responsibility of the Church to extend it to all – saints and sinners alike. When the Lord calls us all home and we are walking the golden streets of that Heavenly Jerusalem, there will be more than enough time to rub shoulders with the Saints of God, but for now we are the ones God calls upon to bring the Good News to those who would hear it.

Today is our Heritage Sunday, when we celebrate the rich history of our church. That heritage began back in September 1893 when “a large and respectable number of” sinners gathered around a wagon and listened to Bishop Frances Brooke preach and celebrate the Eucharist. Today, we sinners gather in the place those sinners built. Our history is not one of glowing saints – especially with you lot! Lord have mercy! – but we are Archbishop Ramsey’s “mixed society of those called to be saints,” and by the grace of God we will be in Enid for years to come acting as agents of His mercy and proclaiming the Good News of Christ Jesus to all who would come and hear it.

The Mildred’s of this world and the churches that would respond to sinners as she did will continue to exist. In the end, they may be the ones proven to be right, but I would rather err on the side of mercy and grace, for Jesus condemned many for judging, but he condemned none for loving. If we are that church, the one that chooses to love, we will continue to have a beautiful heritage.

Let us pray: God of eternity, in your Son Jesus Christ you redeemed all of human history and called your church to proclaim the Good News of his death and resurrection to the ends of the earth and to the end of the age: pour out your Spirit afresh upon your people in this place, with grace to remember and rejoice in your blessings in the past and courage to trust your power to shape our future, through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

A home-accident survey showed that 90 percent of accidents on staircases involved either the top or the bottom stair. This information was fed into a computer to analyze how accidents could be reduced. The computer’s answer: “Remove the top and bottom stairs.”

The answer we get is not always the answer we would expect. When Jesus enters the region of Tyre the Syrophoenician woman comes to him and begs for help for her daughter. Jesus’ response, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” Definitely not the answer we were expecting! How do we explain saying of Jesus?

In truth, there are many who are a lot smarter than me who have attempted to understand these events and in reading them, I cock my head to the side like a dog trying to understand its master. For me, to discover the answer, we have to to put it into the context of the incident and verses that immediately precede this encounter. We read these just last week. It is the discussion over what is clean and unclean.

In last week’s Gospel, the Pharisees came to Jesus and asked him why his disciples ate with unclean hands, because the disciples did not wash their hands according to tradition. Jesus answered them, “You abandon the commandment of God and hold to human tradition.” The religious leaders used their traditions as weapons and lorded it over the people to beat them down and held themselves superior to those who did not keep the Law, that is, the Gentiles; which is why the Jews would have nothing to do with Gentiles.

Remember the time that Jesus went to the well at Samaria. His disciples went into town to look for something to eat and left Jesus alone at the well. The woman arrives and Jesus asked her for a drink of water from the well. Her reply, ”’You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan – a gentile -woman. How can you ask me for a drink?’ (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans).” Because the Gentiles failed to adhere to the Law and the traditions, the Jews would have nothing to do with them and looked down on them.

From this animosity grew other contentious practices and traditions. The tradition that has baring on our Gospel today is the tradition of Jews calling Gentiles “dogs.” It’s not that the Gentiles were eating with unclean hands, it was that the Gentiles were believed to be unclean through and through and no better than the wild dogs that roamed the streets.

Long before Jesus encountered Syrophoenician woman a precedent had been set: Jews don’t associate with Gentiles. Therefore, when Jesus is speaking to the woman, he knows this precedent, she knows this precedent, the disciples know the precedent, and everyone else in this house knows the precedent, so by Jesus referring to this woman as a dog, he fulfills everyone’s preconceived ideas of how this encounter should play out. On hearing Jesus speak to her in such a way, those gathered around him probably responded in their hearts, “Good, he is maintaining the proper order of things.” Let me ask you this: When have you ever known Jesus to maintain the proper order of things?

The woman demonstrated great faith and boldness in her response to Jesus, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” In those few words she is saying, “I know the world thinks I’m no better than a dog, I know these people here with you think I’m a dog, but I do not believe that you think I am a dog.” Now, I have no biblical proof or great theologian or other expert to back me up on this, but when that woman said, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs,” Jesus smiled. He probably even laughed out loud.

We have the Law and we have our traditions that protect us from getting dirty. We know what is right and what is wrong. We know what is clean and what is unclean. We know that you are a dog. And the Syrophoenician woman thumbed her nose at them all. Of course Jesus laughed and then he rewarded her faith: “‘For saying that, you may go– the demon has left your daughter.’ So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.”

The world looked at her and had certain expectations about who she was and how she should behave. She was a dog and dogs have their place. It wasn’t until she encountered Jesus that not only was she seen as something different, someone worthy of God’s favor, but it probably wasn’t until that encounter with Jesus that she even saw herself as someone worthy of the blessings of God.

Fortunately, the world no longer has such problems as this. We don’t look at one person and think them as being different from anybody else. In our eyes, everyone is equal and treated fairly. Maybe not.

In the Epistle of James that we read this morning, James asked a question: “If a person with gold rings and in fine clothes comes into your assembly, and if a poor person in dirty clothes also comes in, and if you take notice of the one wearing the fine clothes and say, ‘Have a seat here, please,’ while to the one who is poor you say, ‘Stand there,’ or, ‘Sit at my feet,’ have you not made distinctions among yourselves, and become judges with evil thoughts?” His answer: “Yes.” He begins by stating the royal law, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” and then states, “If you show partiality, you commit sin and are convicted by the law as transgressors.”

We understand him to be speaking of our treatment of the poor, but I would suggest to you that our understanding of this scripture only begins there. No, I’m not going to politicize a sermon, never will, but what if we replaced a few words? For example, “If a person with white skin comes into your assembly, and if a person with dark skin also comes in, and if you take notice of the white person and say, ‘Have a seat here, please,’ while to the one with dark skin you say, ‘Stand there,’ or, ‘Sit at my feet,’ have you not made distinctions among yourselves, and become judges with evil thoughts?” Yes we have. And yes, we’re only being naive if we think the opposite of that isn’t also true. But who else might we apply these verses to? Who else do we judge as unworthy? What about the woman standing in line in front of us at the grocery store with two kids, paying for frozen pizzas and ice cream with food stamps? What about the person we disagree with politically? What about… ? I’m sure you have your own answers.

When presented with this type of scripture reading, we must be willing to apply their teachings to more than one issue, even when they make us uncomfortable. And in these lessons, both Jesus and James were addressing the fact that we may all have a tendency to at times look at a person or group of persons and based on their outward appearances or practices, judge them according to our perceptions of them. Or put into the language we’ve been discussing, we have a tendency to declare them “clean” or “unclean”, worthy or unworthy based on our perceptions of them, but in doing so, we end up judging ourselves. Jesus and James both demonstrate this.

The Trappist monk, Thomas Merton (if you haven’t read his autobiography, The Seven Storey Mountain, I highly recommend it to you) said it best, “Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy. That is not our business and, in fact, it is nobody’s business. What we are asked to do is to love, and this love itself will render both ourselves and our neighbors worthy.”

We may look at some around us and based on our perceptions of them, think they are of lesser value than us or others, that perhaps they are not worthy of the blessings of God, but in the face of such judgments, Jesus only laughs. Why? Because Jesus is not interested in maintaining our determined order of the world. He came to establish God’s order. God’s Kingdom. “For the old order of things has passed away.” Jesus said, “Behold, I have come to make all things new.” Don’t allow the judgmental precedents established by others cause you to commit sin. Instead, imitate Christ and dismantle those barriers that divide the children of God.

Let us pray: O God, you made us in your own image and redeemed us through Jesus your Son: Look with compassion on the whole human family; take away the arrogance and hatred which infect our hearts; break down the walls that separate us; unite us in bonds of love; and work through our struggle and confusion to accomplish your purposes on earth; that, in your good time, all nations and races may serve you in harmony around your heavenly throne; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Two hunting stories. Both of them true. Both of them involve your’s truly.

When I was growing up in Louisiana, I would always look forward to going squirrel hunting. I was a bit like Dug the Dog in the movie Up! – “Squirrel!” I remember when the season began my grandaddy would come wake us up well before light, load us up in the truck, and have us in the woods as the sun was rising.

The late part of squirrel season would overlap with the early weeks of deer season, and I’m not sure why, but it seems we would always continue with squirrel hunting with one addition to the morning preparation: putting on the orange hunting vest.

I hated that vest because I was convinced that it was bright enough to scare the squirrels off, but my grandfather insisted and so I wore it, with the exception of one day.

I had been hunting for an hour and had not seen a single squirrel. Convinced that it was the vest, I took it off and stuck it in my back pocket. I walked along peacefully for another half hour, when suddenly a war zone of rifle fire broke out around me. A couple of fellas started hollering at each other and then there were more shots. Deer hunters. There was another bit of silence and then another shot. That last bullet hit a tree about a foot away from me. It was then that I realized I was the “deer” they were shooting at. Fortunately for me, they were miserable shots or were just shooting in my general direction because they had seen movement.

At some point, they realized I wasn’t a deer. There was a bit more shouting and then they slinked off without showing themselves.

I was still frozen to the spot when, a short time later, my grandaddy showed up. He had my orange hunting vest in his hand. It must have fallen out of my pocket somewhere along the way. He knew exactly what had happened. He walked up to me and handed me that vest. His only comment, “You dropped this.” The subject of me not liking the orange vest during deer season was never brought up again.

Years later, when I was living in Montana, I had some friends that had a ranch up in the mountains.  It was a wonderful place to visit and go elk hunting.  Now I’ve never shot an elk, but on one particular afternoon during elk season, in another fruitless attempt, I headed out and decided to follow a fence line for a while.  It was on a slight incline up the side of the mountain, and there was only about six inches of snow on the ground, so it wasn’t a difficult walk.  It was in the late afternoon, so after about a mile or so it was time to turn back.

On the way up I had been looking around attempting to spot that elusive elk, but on the way back down it was getting dark, so I was more aware of my footing, even though I was following my same path back down.  I hadn’t gone but about twenty-five yards when I noticed another set of footprints placed perfectly inside mine.  No, they were not human tracks but were instead the tracks of a rather large mountain lion.

I immediately looked up to see if I could spot him, because he would have been very close, but he was no where in site.  For a good while I didn’t move, just kept looking, but after feeling a little more comfortable that this bold predator wasn’t going to attack, I continued down the mountain.  I thought maybe he had recently come across me, but all the way back down the mountain there were my tracks and there were the mountain lion’s.

He had started following me about the time I had entered the tree line, which was most of the trip.  In my mind, I was convinced that the entire time I was looking for an elk, the mountain lion had been trying to decide whether or not he could have me for supper.

Do you ever reflect back on your life in amazement that you are actually still alive? Anyhow…

In our Gospel reading today, Jesus is concluding the Bread of Life discourse, but in doing so, he angers many who were following him by telling them that he is this bread of life. They may have misunderstood and thought he was suggesting some form of cannibalism when he said, “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.” Whatever their reasoning, they chose to leave at which point Jesus turned to the twelve, his closest followers, and asked, ”Do you also wish to go away?” Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”

Those twelve and many others knew that Jesus was the Messiah, difficult teachings and all, and remained with Him. However, following his death, resurrection, and ascension it was left to these followers, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, to discover how to go about following Jesus in their day-to-day lives. Getting shot at because of my stupidity and being tracked by a mountain lion illustrated to me in a very real setting what these followers learned.

When I consider the circumstances of that first event, squirrel hunting, I always think of the verse that we read today from Ephesians, “Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.” Every time I think about that mountain lion in Montana, I am reminded of a particular passage from Peter’s first epistle, “Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.” Now, I’m not one who sees the devil around every corner or behind every bush, but I also know, to quote 20th century Hollywood wisdom, “The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he doesn’t exist.” So when I think on those two events from my life and those two verses that they remind me of, then I weave them together in my head, which gives me a very practical stratagem and reason for learning how to follow Jesus: Put on the armor of God, because the devil is looking for opportunities to attack you.

By telling us to “Put on the whole armor of God,” Paul is wanting us to understand that there is a battle taking place around us and the victor’s prize is our soul. He uses these images of a warrior preparing for battle so that we will see and understand how serious this fight truly is. However, to put it on, we must understand each piece.

The first piece of Paul’s armor is the belt of truth. At the trial Pilate asked Jesus, “What is truth?” We know Jesus as the ultimate Truth, but we also know that we must seek to know the truth of God, not through some casual acquaintance with Him, but instead through a deep longing to understand his will.

The breastplate of righteousness is the righteousness we have through Jesus and not anything of our own making; and putting on the boots of the Gospel of peace is Paul’s way of telling us to fulfill the Great Commission, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations.”

The shield of faith protects us against the temptations of sin that would drag us down; and the helmet of salvation gives knowledge of forgiveness and redemption.

Finally, Paul instructs us to take up the sword of the spirit, which is the word of God. Not only the “Instruction Manual,” but the words that God gives us to defend ourselves. Think of Jesus’ temptation in the desert. Three times the devil tempted him, three times Jesus responded. What were Jesus’ responses? Deuteronomy 8:3, 6:16, and 6:13.

Many have pointed out that there appears to be no armor for the back, which points to the necessity for Christian community. The 13th Warrior. Great film. The enemy is about to attack and Ibn is inexperienced in battle. Turning to one of the Norsemen on how they would defend their position, Herger the Joyous responds, “When they come, we form a circle in the center of the room, backs to one another.” We need one another for support, accountability, and fellowship. Our very lives provide armor to those around us.

I believe you know and understand these things, so I will tell you what I believe is the biggest mistake Christians make when it comes to the Armor of God: they wait until it’s too late, until they’re in the heat of battle to put it on, just like it was too late for me to put on my orange vest when those idiots started shooting at me. The battle for our souls is not an “if,” but a “when,” so be prepared by daily putting on the armor of God, because the devil is looking for opportunities to attack you.

Let us pray: Father in heaven, you have made us for yourself; our hearts are restless until they rest in you. Fulfill this longing through Jesus, the bread of life, so that we may witness to him who alone satisfies the hungers of the human family. By the power of your Spirit lead us to the heavenly table where we may feast on the vision of your glory for ever and ever. Amen.

A new priest came to town. The first Sunday he preached one of the best sermons folks had ever heard. Everyone was excited, believing that things were looking up for their church. They all complimented him on his wonderful and inspiring words. The following Sunday the new priest preached the exact same sermon, to the letter. Folks looked a bit bewildered, but it was so good, they all thought it was worth hearing a second time, just not two Sundays in a row. However, since he was new, no one said anything other than that they enjoyed the sermon. The third Sunday, once again the priest preached the exact same sermon. The Sr. Warden didn’t think they could take a fourth Sunday, so after everyone had exited the church he had a word with the priest. “Father,” he said, “that’s a good sermon you preached.” “Thank you,” he replied. “However,” continued the Senior Warden, “you have preached the same sermon three times now. We’ve all heard it and were wondering when you were going to go on to a different subject.” “Sir,” he responded, “when you all start acting like you’ve heard it, I’ll preach something else.”

O Lord! We installed him as rector yesterday and he’s going to turn into a tyrant today! Nope. That story has nothing to do with you all not hearing the message. Instead, it has to do with our Gospel reading, because after the next several weeks, you’re going to hear the Gospel reading and ask yourself, “Didn’t we just read this last week?” The answer is: almost.

Last week our Gospel reading ended with, ”I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” This week it began with that exact same verse. Next week the Gospel will begin with, “I am the living bread that came down from heaven,” and the week after that Jesus will say, “The one who eats this bread will live forever.” This particular grouping of verses – John 6:22-59 – is known as the Bread of Life Discourse. So, with these four weeks focused on that one idea of Jesus saying, “I am the bread of life,” we should all get the idea that an important message is being conveyed. To fully understand what Jesus is saying, we must once again go back to the story of Moses.

We know that the Israelites were slaves in Egypt for four hundred years and that God selected Moses to lead them to their freedom. While kneeling before the burning bush, Moses hears the Lord’s plans. At one point in the dialogue, Moses asked the Lord:

If I come to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your ancestors has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what shall I say to them?”  God said to Moses, “I am who I am.” He said further, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘I am has sent me to you.’”  God also said to Moses, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘The Lord, the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has sent me to you’: This is my name forever, and this my title for all generations.

“I Am” is the name the Lord gives Himself.

Now, I would not normally give a lesson during a sermon on the Hebrew language, because a) it would be really boring and b) I barely passed Hebrew in seminary, but…

God says His name is “I Am.” The Old Testament was written in Hebrew and so you will read the Hebrew word for “I Am” translated in different ways: Yahweh, Adonai, and Elohim. For fear of taking the Lord’s name in vain, many later Jewish writings translate it as Ha-Shem, which translates as “the Name.” However, we will most often read it as “the Lord.” In case the question ever comes up in Trivial Pursuit, it appears 6,823 times in the Old Testament.

The New Testament was written in Greek, not Hebrew (and for the record, I did a little better in Greek than I did in Hebrew). Even so, the Name of God will appear many times as Jesus applies it to Himself. In particular, there are the seven great “I Am” statements that we are most familiar with: I am the Light of the World; I am the Door of the Sheepfold; I am the Good Shepherd; I am the Resurrection and the Life; I am the Way, the Truth and the Life; I am the True Vine; and the passage we read today, I am the Bread of Life.

Juliet said to Romeo, “What’s in a name? that which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” In any other case a name may not truly matter, but here – in the context of Jesus applying the Name of God to himself – the Name is everything. For as we said, when translated I Am can be Yahweh or Adonai or Ha-Shem, but it may also be interpreted as Jesus. With that understanding, those “I Am” statements of Jesus can be written as: Jesus is the Light of the World; Jesus is the Door of the Sheepfold; Jesus is the Good Shepherd; Jesus is the Resurrection and the Life; Jesus is the Way, the Truth and the Life; Jesus is the True Vine; and Jesus is the Bread of Life. Jesus is the Great I Am.

Is that accurate? Is that a misrepresentation of Scripture, forcing it to say what we want it to say? Absolutely not. Paul, speaking of Jesus in his letter to the Philippians (2:9-11) wrote:

Therefore God also highly exalted him
and gave him the name
that is above every name,
so that at the name of Jesus
every knee should bend,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue should confess
that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.

All of this goes to support Jesus’ claim that he is God, as he says in John 14, “He who has seen Me has seen the Father.” And in chapter 8, “Very truly, I tell you, before Abraham was, I am.”

If you believe this, Jesus is God, then what are the implications of such a claim when applied to our Gospel reading when Jesus said, “I am the bread of life… Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”

Last week we said that in tasting Jesus we will be satisfied. So, if Jesus is truly God and if Jesus is truly the bread of life, then what is it to eat the Bread of Life? How do we go about being satisfied and nourished by God? Answer: We seek to feed our souls just as we feed our stomachs and that is not something you only do on Sunday, but multiple times each day. Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn said, “The belly is an ungrateful wretch, it never remembers past favors, it always wants more tomorrow.” Perhaps the soul isn’t quite that bad, but if we are not in the habit of feeding it on a daily basis, allowing it to taste God, then it will grow cold, isolated, and prone to sinful behavior. We have mealtime and we must also have soul time.

How do we nourish ourselves on God? We receive him physically through Holy Communion, truly the Body and Blood of Jesus, but we also feed on Him through the study of His Holy Word, prayer, and the other spiritual practices. Consider the questions we will ask as Derrick makes his Baptismal Covenant this morning and we renew our own. Each of them points to how we feed on God through repentance, fellowship, proclamation, giving, and serving. Jesus said in the Beatitudes, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” Your soul hungers for Him, so seek Him where He can be found. Feed on Him through these various practices and be filled.

Jesus is the Great I Am. He is the Bread of Life. Understand that He is the only one who will satisfy the hunger of your soul; therefore, set aside time each day to provide nourishment for your soul.

So that Derrick might join us in our life with God by becoming a part of Christ’s one holy catholic and apostolic Church, the candidate for Holy Baptism will now be presented.