John
6:24-35
Mystical
Presence
James
Sledge August
5, 2012
As
a group, we Presbyterians have never been terribly good at evangelism, a trait
we share with Episcopalians, Lutherans, and a few others. There are a lot of reasons for this. We tend
to be big on knowledge and understanding, and so people are often worried about
not knowing enough to share faith with anyone.
Many of us have also been turned off by the overly aggressive, sometimes
manipulative evangelism methods of other Christian groups, and so we defer, not
wanting to look like them.
In
recent decades however, interest in evangelism has seen an uptick in our
denomination. We have regular evangelism
initiatives at the national level, and many Presbyterian churches have offered
classes on evangelism. I’ve taught them myself, although I think Presbyterian interest
in evangelism is more often about institutional survival than anything else.
That
probably helps explain the content of the typical Presbyterian evangelism
pitch. It goes something like this. “We
have a great pre-school and children’s program.
I bet your kids would love it here.”
Or if it’s a different target audience it might go, “We have this
amazing young adult group. We do all
kinds of fun things together, and it’s a great place to meet new people.” Not that we completely avoid religion. People may pitch the quality of the
worship. They may talk about social
causes or community ministry the church does. They may even mention some
fashionable, spiritual options like a contemplative prayer group, meditation,
or spiritual retreats. But what rarely
gets mentioned is faith, or connecting to Jesus.
Perhaps
that’s presumed, but I wonder if our evangelism pitches don’t in some way
parallel the sort of things the crowds in our gospel reading were saying. “You gotta come check this guy out. He gave
us all we could eat. We were out in the
middle of nowhere, with no supplies, and we ate like I’ve never eaten
before. Let’s go see what he might give
out today.” The crowds were fascinated
by the tricks Jesus did, and they flock to him, but Jesus is unimpressed. “Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for
me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves,” because
I’ve got something you want, a little moral training for your kids, a little
something to go with your hectic, consumer lifestyle.
When
you think about it, it’s a little surprising that so many people still come to
churches looking for Jesus. We live in an age when most of life is disconnected
from God.
We’ve pretty much sequestered
God off into a corner, a spiritual realm that has little contact with work,
family, recreation, and so on. And so
the fact that people still go to church speaks to some deep hunger that is not
being met. There is a spiritual longing
in most of us that draws us toward faith.
The same was true of those crowds in our gospel reading. Jesus might be the answer to that deep
longing, that gnawing spiritual hunger.
But they, and many of us as well, are quick to settle for spiritual junk
food. “We’re hungry, Jesus. Meet our needs.”
But
Jesus won’t comply. “I’m not here simply
to ease your hunger pangs,” he says. “I’m here to offer you something deeper,
more permanent, eternal. I AM
the bread of life.”
-
-
We
Presbyterians have existed almost entirely in the modern, Enlightenment,
scientific era. We are a thoroughly
modern denomination, and the modern worldview pervades us. We think of all things as comprehensible,
explainable. If we can’t explain it,
it’s only because we haven’t figured it out yet. And so, not surprisingly, we tend to be
focused on getting our explanations and ideas right. We argue over whether the Bible means this or
that. And we make judgments about churches based on whether they got their
explanations “right” on gay ordination, marriage, immigration, health care, and
so on. And we don’t talk very much about
connecting with Jesus, about touching and tasting Jesus.
John
Calvin did, but we modern Presbyterians, even though we trace ourselves to
Calvin, pretty much rejected him when it came to the Lord’s Supper. We liked Calvin’s logical, scholarly bent,
but his talk of vivid mystical presence in the Supper bothered us. And so we decided that the Lord’s Supper was
just a symbol, a memorial meal.
But
it seems that Calvin’s more mystical thinking resonates with post-modern views. There has been a recovery of Calvin on the
Lord’s Supper in recent decades as the certainties of modernity began to give
way to the ambiguity and uncertainties of postmodern thought. There are growing numbers of people drawn to
the Lord’s Supper as “a mystery felt rather than explained,”[1] who
want to know what Calvin described when he wrote, “Although my mind can think
beyond what my tongue can utter, yet even my mind is conquered and overwhelmed
by the greatness of the thing. Therefore, nothing remains but to break forth in
wonder at this mystery, which plainly neither the mind is able to conceive nor
the tongue to express.”[2]
-
I assume that most of you are familiar with recent events surrounding the Penn State football program. I personally think the punishments handed out more than justified, but I think I also understand why some fans and alum are so devastated. There is a kind of mystical connection to college football – to the game, the stadium, the legacy – and not just at Penn State. People speak easily in mystical terms of gridiron ghosts, the felt presence of former greats and past fans. And there is a true sense of oneness as the crowd rises together to cheer, to sing, to rejoice, to groan in anguish. There is a communion of saints, a mystical union, and a difficult to explain experience that can send chills down your spine and draw you more and more deeply into it.
I assume that most of you are familiar with recent events surrounding the Penn State football program. I personally think the punishments handed out more than justified, but I think I also understand why some fans and alum are so devastated. There is a kind of mystical connection to college football – to the game, the stadium, the legacy – and not just at Penn State. People speak easily in mystical terms of gridiron ghosts, the felt presence of former greats and past fans. And there is a true sense of oneness as the crowd rises together to cheer, to sing, to rejoice, to groan in anguish. There is a communion of saints, a mystical union, and a difficult to explain experience that can send chills down your spine and draw you more and more deeply into it.
Calvin
felt that, and much, much more, here at the table. Here, by faith, he fed on Christ and
experienced nourishment and sustenance greater than he could imagine or fully comprehend. Here the Spirit bound him to others and
brought them together into the presence of the risen Christ. Here the transforming power of the gospel
washed over them in a manner that cannot be said or told or explained, but only
felt. Here is vividly felt God’s love giving
strength for true, abundant, eternal life.
Come
to the Table. Touch and taste and see
God’s love and grace poured out to feed and satisfy your deepest hungers. Come to the soul feast Christ prepares for
you. Take and eat the bread of God come
down from heaven to give life to the world.
Thanks
be to God!
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