Laetare (Lent 4) Sermon, 2020

Jesus looks and acts like somebody special.

If you set aside the fact that you’ve heard your entire life exactly who Jesus is and read but a few chapters of the Gospel according to St. John, you’ll quickly realize that Jesus is somebody special.

And sometimes—that’s actually a problem.

Jesus speaks and acts like He’s God.

He calls God His Father. He heals the sick.

That’s impressive stuff.

But then today He asks a question.

He’s turned water into wine, miraculously.

He’s healed a boy without being there, miraculously.

God is His Father.

He’s equal to God with respect to His divinity.

But He doesn’t know where to buy bread.

That’s a problem.

He acts like God— Talks like God—

Some of the time.

But not on command.

For us, that’s a problem.

John tells us—but the disciples don’t know—that Jesus knew what He would do.

He asked His question to test them.

And they failed.

“Philip answered, ‘Two hundred denarii would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little’” (John 6:7).

“One of [Jesus’] disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, ‘There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish, but what are they for so many?’” (John 6:8-9).

Jesus knew what He would do, but He asked His question to test them.

Jesus is God, but it doesn’t always look like it.

God—Father, Son and Holy Spirit—is always working, but we don’t always perceive His work.

But—He Himself knows what He’ll do.

The disciples are caught between God and unbelief.

Between trust and doubt.

Between despair and patient, long-suffering faith.

They’ll either be man-pleasers or servants of Christ.

“Philip answered, ‘Two hundred denarii would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little’” (John 6:7).

He was concerned with the numbers, the cost.

God is with us, present in the flesh—sure, sure—but money is the insurmountable obstacle here.

“Andrew…said to [Jesus], ‘There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish, but what are they for so many?’” (John 6:8-9).

Andrew was concerned with different numbers, the incredible crowd and the measly offerings.

God is with us, present in the flesh—sure, sure—but an impressive amount of impressionable people need to be impressed by how good we look, Jesus—don’t you get it?

All the while—He Himself knew what He would do.

“Have the people sit down,” (John 6:10) Jesus said.

“[And He] took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated. So also the fish, as much as they wanted. And when they had eaten their fill, he told his disciples, ‘Gather up the fragments, that nothing may be lost.’ So they gathered them up and filled twelve baskets with fragments from the five barley loaves, left by those who had eaten” (John 6:11-13).

He knew what He would do, and He did it.

He tested them, held their feet to the fire, so to speak, a little longer than Philip and Andrew liked.

He knows what He’ll do, and He does it.

He tests us, holds our feet to the fire, a little longer than we would like.

He does this—always—that we would lean not on our own understanding, trust not in princes, believe not because we see but because we hear the Word of God and believe.

We’re caught, all the time, in the same tension the disciples found themselves in.

God constantly fails to live up to our expectations.

He doesn’t dance on command. He doesn’t seek to please us but to save us.

Our expectations are wrong.

Not only can we not, we would never choose to feed thousands of people with five barley loaves and two fish.

Five barley loaves and two fish is the equivalent of what’s left on the shelves at Walmart right now.

Nobody wants that stuff.

For that matter, we’d never choose for the Eternal Son of God to be born of a virgin and placed into a feeding trough. That doesn’t impress us.

We’d never choose for Him to suffer—that’s for bad people.

And He’d never have to be raised, because we’d never choose for Him to die.

If God lived up to our expectations, all the people we hate would have high-grade fevers right now, and we’d be able to spare a square but we wouldn’t.

Our expectations are wrong—because we are all poor, miserable sinners.

“When the people saw the sign that [Jesus] had done, they said, ‘This is indeed the Prophet who is to come into the world!’ [But] perceiving then that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, Jesus withdrew again to the mountain by himself” (John 6:14-15).

We don’t expect humility, because God has given us a constant excess.

We don’t expect humility, but behold!

Our king comes to us, the Eternal Son of God, “born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law” (Galatians 4:4-5).

“Behold our king comes to us humble, and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden” (cf. Matthew 21:5).

“Behold the man” (John 19:5) who was crucified.

Behold our God—who died.

All the world, in its combined wisdom and power, could never multiply five barley loaves and two fish, by a word, without sweat, into a miraculous meal.

But the Church does that weekly, or better.

We don’t expect humility, because our expectations are wrong.

But as He did, He does. “Our Lord Jesus Christ, on the night when He was betrayed, took bread.”

It’s not impressive looking bread.

If Walmart sold communion bread, it’d still be on the shelves.

But by His Word, without our sweat, it is what Jesus says it is: His Body, His Blood, given and shed for us for the forgiveness of our sins.

We could never expect that—but God gives it.

All the world, in its combined wisdom and power, would never settle for something that looks so unimpressive.

But the Church does that weekly, or better.

Today, unimpressive pastors in unimpressive churches preaching unimpressive sermons, broadcast on unimpressive websites achieve—in the right proclamation of the Gospel—what the world cannot understand and will never accomplish itself.

By simple means—the spoken word, God’s Word.

By bread and wine—and the command and Word of God.

We have exactly what He says—the forgiveness of sins.

I won’t tell you to Keep Calm and Carry On, but you should.

I will tell you to worship God, and you should.

God is using this time to check our expectations, to test us.

But He Himself knows what He will do.

God is at work.

In Jesus’ name, Amen!

Laetare (Lent 4) Sermon, 2020
John 6:1-15
Rev. Benjamin Tyler Holt

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