Bread for the Journey, Monday in the First Week of Epiphany

From the Daily Lectionary for January 11 in the First Week of Epiphany

John 6:15-27

When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.

When evening came, his disciples went down to the lake, got into a boat, and started across the lake to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. The lake became rough because a strong wind was blowing. When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the lake and coming near the boat, and they were terrified. But he said to them, “It is I; do not be afraid.” Then they wanted to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat reached the land towards which they were going.

The next day the crowd that had stayed on the other side of the lake saw that there had been only one boat there. They also saw that Jesus had not got into the boat with his disciples, but that his disciples had gone away alone. Then some boats from Tiberias came near the place where they had eaten the bread after the Lord had given thanks. So when the crowd saw that neither Jesus nor his disciples were there, they themselves got into the boats and went to Capernaum looking for Jesus.

When they found him on the other side of the lake, they said to him, “Rabbi, when did you come here?” Jesus answered them, “Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. 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.”

This passage in John is a strange rendition of the so-called miracle of Jesus walking on the water. Strange because it differs from all three of the accounts in the Synoptic Gospels. In Matthew, Mark, and Luke Jesus commands the storm to be stilled. Here, he merely appears walking on the water, and then the boat unexpectedly reaches its destination. Perhaps this contrast will shed some light on John’s theology of Jesus.

You’ll recall that in the prologue John refers to Jesus as the light. This sortie upon the lake happens in the dark. Later, Nicodemus will come to visit Jesus “at night.” Throughout this Gospel Jesus speaks of “children of the light,” and the “children of darkness.” Clearly, the way of Jesus is the means to enlightenment, the way to truth, the way to God. There are those in the world who don’t have the stomach for such a reality. We see this disparity in our world today. Jesus speaks to his disciples from atop the surface of the water, “It is I, do not be afraid.” The Greek is “ego eimi,” it is I, the same words God uses in God’s encounter with Moses. So again, typology is employed here. Jesus is of God, and to follow him is to be situated on God’s path. And to follow God’s path dispels fear. In John Lewis’ book Across that Bridge, he describes the Civil Rights march from Selma to Montgomery. Many had asked him over the years if he was afraid on that day, now known as Bloody Sunday, knowing that the Alabama State Troopers would react with violence. He said that there was no fear, only peace of mind, knowing that he and his fellow activists were on the side of God.

John introduces another metaphor that he will expand throughout his Gospel: That he is bread, nurture that fills our bodies and souls with the divine. John is again making the case that as Jesus is light and nurture, so too are those who follow. The incarnation has implications far beyond Jesus. It includes the people of faith as well. That means that we are to be proximate to the world’s injustice, to the storms of violence. Our vocation is to bear light and nurture to a world that is hungry and in the dark.

The alchemy of such an ethic, such a spirituality, is that in being nurture and bearing light, we are nurtured and shown the light. That is hard to fathom in our transactional culture. But Love is that way. It raises all boats, even if caught in a raging storm in the dark.

A Prayer for the Human Family (BCP p. 815)

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 Savior.    Amen.