Tuesday of the Third Week of Easter
The crowd in the passage from John has a very short memory, makes a lot of demands, and understands little about Jesus. Just sixteen verses ago, they witnessed Jesus turn five small loaves and two fishes into enough food to feed five thousand people. Yet here, they dare to ask Jesus what sign he will give them so that they may believe him. Rather presumptuously, they even tell Jesus what sort of sign they’d like to see. How about some manna from heaven? Couldn’t Jesus give them a sign like Moses delivered to the Israelites in the desert? And if he did, why then maybe they would believe. Poor Jesus! How many signs do they need? When will they get it?
Of course, in making these requests, they give themselves away. They reveal to Jesus how little they understand about him—who he is, where he is, and what he is offering. Let’s take each in turn.
Who he is. The analogy for Jesus here isn’t Moses, Jesus makes clear. Jesus is not their advocate. He is no mere prophet. Moreover, the manna came not from Moses but from God. The analogy to be made here is not between Jesus and Moses. Jesus is not the one who brings the bread. He is the bread! He is what sustains us now and forever.
Importantly, the “who-he-is” is connected to the “where-he-is.” The crowd is looking to Jesus because they want him to produce a sign. They are looking to heaven for more manna. It turns out that the bread that they really need is already right there in front of them. He is the miracle, the incarnation, the bread of life.
How often do we pray for manna out of heaven? We want this bread to feed our hunger or to solve our problem or to remove our fear. We want Jesus to give us what we need! And all the while, we miss the fact that what we need is right here with us all the time—the risen Christ. He is here—in the Eucharist, in the gathered body. Even in our darkest moments, he is here.
The proof of Jesus’ resurrection is not found in the empty tomb. The proof is that he is (and always has been) right here. Our challenge is to live into that reality. And that is a reality that demands that we would live as he called us to—with compassion, love, grace, and mercy.
Amen.
- Sue Trollinger