SERMON FOR AUGUST 1, 2021		TEXT: EXODUS 16:2-4, 9-15; JOHN 6:24-35      
     I came upon this commentary on today’s texts from a fellow Lutheran pastor: “As preachers approach this day they might consider contrasting God’s provision with humanity’s desire to be in control and determine its own outcome. Why is it that so many people spend hours shopping for clothes and making themselves look presentable for the approval of others, and yet spend so little time dwelling in God’s word to learn about eternal life? Why is it that people spend thousands of dollars investing and getting their finances right for retirement, yet so little time investing in those things that last forever? Why is it that many people read their Facebook feed multiple times a day to stay up to date, but do not know the basic story of scripture?” 
     I thought, wow, what a way to go — putting people on the defensive right out of the starting gate. For sure his pointed questions are worth considering. Still, I’m of a mind to take it down a notch or two. Given the reality of sin in our lives, human presumption is always a problem. But I don’t think that’s the central issue in today’s readings from Exodus and the Gospel of John. These are stories about building trust early on in a relationship and then gaining insight. The people involved are sorting through what they have learned from their recent encounter with God and with Jesus respectively. They are trying to determine what this might mean for their future. They may seem obtuse and immature, but at this point they haven’t got a lot to go on. We shouldn’t be too hard on them or on ourselves, for we all grow in faith through experience. Indeed, God often uses our moments of dull ignorance as the springboard into amazing understanding.
    The parting of the Red Sea and the drowning of Pharaoh’s army showed the mighty hand of the Lord outstretched on Israel’s behalf. Against that backdrop their complaint in the wilderness does indeed sound ungrateful, yet their plight was real. They had been wandering in the wilderness for two months. They were hungry and without food. Starving in the middle of nowhere was a grim prospect. No wonder they began to think that slavery in Egypt with food on the table was a better deal.  The God of their ancestors, the One who had made a covenant with Abraham, and Isaac and Jacob, had left their descendants in bondage to the Egyptians for some time. So when God approaches them through Moses, it is a new start in a longstanding relationship, a renewal of a commitment that has for some time been more remembered than experienced. The rescue from Egypt gets them off to a great start, but what lies ahead? Can they count on this God to provide for them in the wilderness, to stand by them and guide them to the Promised Land? Who are they to put God to the test, we may ask. They are people who have trusted God so far, and now they are hungry for food both physical and spiritual. They are looking for a sign of God’s enduring faithfulness and care.
     The crowd around Jesus is in a better mood than the stranded Israelites, but they too are pushing for clarity. They have just experienced the miracle of the feeding of the five thousand from a mere five loaves and two fish. Now Jesus tells them, “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. For it is on him that God the Father has set his seal.” Jesus makes references to the Old Testament here that the people would have recognized. There is the apocalyptic Son of Man from the Book of Daniel, the one to whom the Ancient of Days gives “dominion and glory and kingship, that all people, nations, and languages should serve him.” And there is the manna provided by God in the wilderness, heavenly food that perished, like the earthly life it nourished. They press him: How are they to be sure that Jesus is the One God has sent? “What sign are you going to give us then, so that we may see it and believe you?” they ask. And note the subtle but crucial shift between believing him, accepting what Jesus says as true, just as the Israelites heeded Moses, and believing in him, trusting him, even as the Israelites depended upon God to save them. Now the giver of bread from heaven, the manna in the wilderness, has become both giver and gift in Jesus Christ. “For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world. They said to him, “Sir, give us this bread always.” They know what they want. They haven’t yet understood that it is already theirs, that Jesus himself is the bread of life they long for. 
     As a kid, my brother had a habit of lingering in front of the refrigerator, while he decided what he wanted to eat. “Ralph, make up your mind,” Mom would tell him in exasperation. “Don’t just stand there with the door wide open. You’ll let the cold air out and waste electricity.” But she kept a well-stocked fridge, and Ralph was always the kind to consider his options. We have lots of choices about what we eat and in what or whom we believe, how we nourish our bodies and our souls. Here I come back to the pastor I cited above. He is right about our frequently skewed priorities. Our lives are precious yet easily lost to concerns that prove not to matter so much in the end. But I worry that we make the best choices sound unappetizing. As if the loss of what you give up could outweigh what you gain. 
     If you have ever made a conscious effort to change your diet for the better, you have likely been surprised at how readily your system adapts. You strip the peel off an orange as naturally as you once tore the wrapper from a Kit Kat bar for your mid-afternoon snack. Remember the old ad for Lay’s Potato Chips: “Bet you can’t eat just one!”? Well, it turns out you can — well, maybe just two. Then you’re done with the empty calories and ready to dig into something that helps build strong bodies 12 ways and provides energy for the long haul (and I’m not talking about Wonder Bread). Jesus says, “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly” (John 10:10). It’s about nourishment, rich and plentiful, not deprivation. Look at us, blessed with faith and hope and love; who wouldn’t want the bread from heaven we share! —  Amen.