Speaker 1: Welcome to the CommonsCast. We're glad to have you here. We hope you find something meaningful in our teaching this week. Head to commons.church for more information.
Speaker 2: All through Lent, we have been tracing a motif in the gospel of John as the writer outlines a series of signs that point to things to come. Stories that are meant to orient us toward resurrection and kingdom. And there's actually seven of these signs in John. This is our fourth today, but they are starting to get a little more undercover as we go. The first two signs are named for us by the writer of John.
John Jesus turns water into wine and John says, this was the first sign Jesus performed. When Jesus heals the child of a royal official, John says, this was the second sign. But after this, we have to sort of start looking for the signs a little deeper, and that's an interesting shift that invites us to search with the text. But last week, Bobby talked about the healing of a man at the Pool Of Bethesda. A really interesting story that conjures up all kinds of comparisons to Greco Roman religion and practice.
A man sits by a pool waiting to see a sign, the stirring of the water, so that he can then rush down and get into the pool before anyone else and be healed. Now, the background here is that there was a tradition or a myth really that this pool had magical powers that could heal. But only when the waters were stirred and only the first person to claim the prize by rushing in when they were. And so Bobby talked about the missing verse four in John five that explains all of that background. If you're reading along in John five, you may have noticed that your bible skips straight from verse three to verse five.
Now there's usually a little note at the bottom of your page that explains the omission. No one's trying to pull a fast one on you here. But it's because the earliest copies of John that we have found written when everybody knew about the Pool Of Bethesda didn't bother to explain why the man had to race down and get in the pool first. Centuries later though, once everyone had forgotten about the Pool Of Bethesda, but still wanted to read stories about Jesus, a scribe somewhere took it upon themselves to add in a verse to add some context so it would make more sense. That leaves us in kind of a tricky position.
I mean, the story is obviously better with verse four. That verse gives us the context to understand what's going on and yet it wasn't there in the original text of John. And so, what are biblical scholars to do? Well, probably the best option is to make a footnote at the bottom of the page which is usually what they do. That said, that footnote, that verse four illuminates something important for us.
This man is disabled, but he's been told that the only way for him to be healed is to compete against others with different abilities racing into the pool for healing. And that hits close to home, I think. We have all of us at different abilities and disabilities, different gifts and challenges that we bring with us. And yet, we've also often been told that making everyone compete on a quote level playing field is somehow a virtue. And what Bobby did such a great job bringing out of a text is the way that Jesus sidesteps not just assumptions about Roman healing gods or even just myths about magic waters, but the way god doesn't always think like us.
That God doesn't think blessing is in limited supply, something we have to fight each other for, that goodness is not short supply. And maybe even that in God's kingdom, we will never be pitted against each other for God's love ever again. And so Jesus says sidesteps all of that to say that rule keeping and faithful watching and helpless rushing, none of it can ever enlarge or subtract from God's goodness extended to all of us in all directions. And sometimes that comes to us mysteriously but always freely. A sign of things to come is a world without competition.
Now, this week, we have a new sign, the feeding of the 5,000. First though, let's pray together. God who is always present to us, speaking, guiding, illuminating, revealing. Might we cultivate eyes to see and ears to hear your presence with us always even if only when we look back. When we do, would you help us to see that gracious love and expansive welcome, the end of competition and striving, all of that instead replaced by the warmth of your embrace?
If we have found ourselves caught on a playing field that we know has been tilted against us, might we know that you see us truly and clearly and with loving eyes. If on the other hand, we are only now beginning to recognize the advantages that we have been handed, might we know that you see us with the same loving acceptance. But might that grace open our eyes to the world that could be. One where we can actively use our choices to make room for everyone to flourish. May your abundance of blessing flow down to us, but more importantly, flow through us.
Trusting that this flowing movement of goodness is in fact a sign of things to come. And so we thank you for inviting us to participate in this good future, in this good way, in the strong name of the risen Christ, we pray. Amen. Okay. Today, we have another sign, and it's a very familiar story that comes to us with a bit of a twist in the Gospel of John.
And so we're gonna talk today about redaction and lessons and loaves and power. But last week, and then again, just in this recap, we talked about something that we call textual criticism. That is what we call it when we take any ancient manuscripts, and we try to compare them and discern the original version of a story just like we saw in John five. Today, we get to talk about something called redaction criticism. And redaction criticism is all about trying to understand what a writer is trying to say when they take on an existing story and they retell it in their own way.
Later this spring, after we get through Easter, there's a series that's in your journal that's coming up called Origins. In that series, we are gonna look at the first 11 chapters of Genesis. We're gonna talk a lot about redaction criticism in that series. What were the writers of Genesis trying to do when they took ancient stories that had been passed down orally for centuries and then put them together into a written narrative for their communities? Now, to be clear here, textual criticism, redaction criticism.
We also have something we call source criticism. That's when we try to understand where a story has come from. And none of these are about criticizing the Bible. It just means we're investigating these texts closely, reading them closely. And so let me give you an example about how redaction criticism might work and how a story, when it's repeated, can take on the agenda and the intent of the person who's telling it over time.
There's an old story. It's almost certainly not true, but it seems to make its way around the Internet from time to time. It purports to be the transcript of a real conversation between a US Naval ship and the Canadian authorities of the coast of Newfoundland. But the transcript reads like this, US ship, please divert your course 15 degrees to the north to avoid a collision. The Canadians, we recommend you divert your course 15 degrees to the south to avoid collision.
Americans, this is the captain of the US Navy ship. I say again, divert your course. Canadians, no. I say again, divert your course. Americans, this is the aircraft carrier, USS Abraham Lincoln, the second largest ship in the United States Atlantic Fleet.
We are accompanied by three destroyers, three cruisers, and numerous support vessels. I demand that you change your course 15 degrees to the north or countermeasures will be taken to ensure the safety of this ship. Canadians, this is a lighthouse. Your call. Now, of course, it's a funny story, but it illustrates why the perspective of the person telling the story is so important.
Because in Canada, this story is about a pompous American captain, but in The UK, this story has actually been circulating for decades about an English lighthouse. It shows up in a book published in 1939 where the punch line reads, this ain't no blinking ship governor. This year's a lighthouse. My limey accent needs a lot of work obviously. I get it.
But the point is, the way that we tell a story, ironically even a story about perspective, has a lot to do with our perspective. For Canadians, this story is best told about an American captain who gets his comeuppance. For the Brits, it's about an old plain speaking lighthouse hand who gets to deliver the final word. The point of the story is the same, but who's telling the story influences how and why they tell it. So for a closer to home example, I've noticed this in my own family.
Now both our kids are adopted, you know that. But the way that Rachel and I remember and recall and retell the stories around their births and how they made their way into our family, I mean, differs. We've had people over for dinner and they ask us about the process, and sometimes Rachel and I will end up disagreeing and fighting about the details as we tell the story, which I mean, that's awkward. Which reminds me, we should get our story straight before you guys come over for dinner next time, but we can figure that out later. The point is we remember things, and we hold on to the details of things, and we narrate our experiences from our point of view.
And rather than a bug, I think this is actually a feature of the human experience. And don't get me wrong, there are times we need to be objective or at least try to be. But how we create meaning for ourselves, how we understand the point of our lives, that is a uniquely personal experience. One that reflects, I think, the unique way that spirit interacts with each of us. So let's see how John narrates this moment, one that appears in all four of the gospels and try to figure out what this story means for him.
Why he thinks this is a sign of things to come. Now, I'm going to read a longer section here. It's from John chapter six verses one through 15. But there we read, sometime after this, and by the way, after this is after Jesus has healed the man at the Pool Of Bethesda, and then he gives a bit of a speech to those who are watching. But after that, Jesus crossed to the far shore of the Sea Of Galilee, that is the Sea Of Tiberias.
And a crowd of people followed him because they saw the signs that he had performed by healing the sick. Then Jesus went up on the mountainside and sat down with his disciples. The Jewish Passover festival was in here. When Jesus looked up and saw a great crowd coming toward him, he said to Philip, where shall we buy bread for all these people to eat? He asked this only to test him for he already had in mind what he was going to do.
But Philip answered him, it would take more than half a year's wage to buy enough bread for each one to have even just a bite. Another of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter's brother, spoke up. Here's a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish, but how far will that go among so many? So Jesus said, have the people sit down. There was plenty of grass in that place.
So they sat down about 5,000 men were there. Then Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish. When they had all had enough to eat, he said to the disciples, gather the pieces that are left over. Let nothing be wasted.
So they gathered them up and filled 12 baskets with the pieces of the five barley loaves that were left over by those who had already eaten. After the people saw the sign Jesus performed, they began to say, surely this is the prophet who is to come into the world. But Jesus, knowing that they intended to come and make him king by force, withdrew again to a mountain by himself. So pretty interesting story here, and one that might be familiar to you from the other gospels. This is actually the only miracle that appears in all four gospels in our bibles.
So it's obviously a pretty important one. There's actually two of these big feeding stories. Right? All four gospels record this moment with 5,000 people present. Matthew and Mark also record another moment where another 4,000 people are fed by Jesus in the same way.
He really liked this trick. But there are some unique differences here in John. Maybe we could say emphasis that he weaves into his version of the story that I think are important to why he sees Jesus and this moment as a sign of things to come. First of all, John is the only one who sees this moment as a test of sorts. In Matthew, we get a little bit more context here.
This moment comes right on the heels of John the Baptist's death. So John the Baptist was a friend and the cousin of Jesus, and he had been executed by Herod Antipas, who we talked about a couple weeks ago. And so Jesus retreats across the lake to try to get some peace and quiet and maybe some space to grieve the loss of his friend. Except what happens is that the crowds see him get in a boat and they realize where he's going, so they decide to follow him. They actually walk around the lake all the way to the other side to catch up with him.
Now you can imagine, from Jesus' perspective, it's probably a little unwelcome. I mean, specifically, he got in a boat to get away from these people. He sailed to the other side of a lake. This wasn't exactly a subtle move, and yet, a couple hours later, here come the crowds. And so what we read in Matthew is that despite his fatigue and despite his grief, Jesus has compassion on the crowd.
Now, these people are clearly so desperate to hear him that they had left their homes, they had walked around the lake, it was getting late in the day, no one had had a chance to stop and eat. And literally, when you read compassion in Matthew, it means that Jesus felt their hunger in his gut. That's what the word is. And so he responds that we need to to feed them to respond to this need that they have in this moment of hunger. John, however, sees this from a slightly different angle.
In John, Jesus crosses the lake just like Matthew and he sees the crowds coming just like Matthew. But this time, instead of being moved moved by compassion, he seems to become aware of an opportunity to teach something here. John writes, when Jesus saw the crowds, he said to Philip, where shall we buy bread for these people? But he was only asking this to test him. He already knew what he was going to do.
So Matthew sees Jesus' miracle in response to a very real physical need. John sees this moment in response to a very real spiritual need. And I think this is fascinating to understand, to recognize that the same moment can be more than one thing. Now I know people who see everything through a spiritual lens. I know people who see their spirituality through a very practical lens.
Truth is that probably me most of the time. But I actually had someone message me this week with a really profound question. They said, I hear about God and I read about God, but I don't really have a sense of God. And I'm not sure how to get there. And I thought about this for a bit.
I sat with it for a few minutes, and then I responded and I said, actually, first of all, I resonate with this. I get the feeling you're describing because I have that feeling as well a lot of the time. And sometimes everyone else around me seems to connect with God more easily than I do. But I also know that for me, my experience of the divine tends to be grounded. It always seems to come back to the way that I open myself up to the people around me and I learn to love them.
And I know that some people find God in very experiential terms and others in more intellectual pursuits. But often, I think part of our problem is that we spend too much of our time comparing how we experience God to how others describe their experience of God rather than leaning into the divine that's all around us always. And if in the end, God is truly loved, then maybe the best thing that we can do is lean into the practices that help us become the most loving versions of ourselves and whatever that is, we then search out and we name God in that for ourselves. And so for me, to see the way that Matthew roots this miracle in Jesus' compassion, The way that he addresses and cares for practical physical needs. For me, that translates into issues like climate change and fair trade and housing and reconciliation for sure.
But then to also see that John can root the same moment in a teaching moment. The way that Jesus intends to expand our trust in what's possible. To help us see that faith can accomplish impractical things that the world to come could actually be one without hunger or want or lack and that it is worth believing in things that are beyond ourselves. That kind of marriage of perspectives creates a lot of room for a lot of us to find ourselves in this Jesus story. And it reminds me that a single moment is never just a single thing.
And that I can learn from what you see, that I can look back, and I can see new things if I'm willing to. God is always speaking, and we can never exhaust God's grace. We can always look again. But if that's the frame that John offers us, that this is a spiritual moment of learning, then let's see where he takes the story. Because the next unique, very small, but important moment in John's gospel is this mention of barley loaves.
Now, all of the other gospel writers, they make a big deal about the meager rations that are available here. Five loaves and two fish. That's kind of the magic of the moment. Right? John is the only one to mention the type of bread on serve.
Now, is that because John is an aficciato? Perhaps. And I can respect that. Right? I mean, I have this thing where I tend to grab a hold of an idea and then I dive in like deep.
Last summer, I did a sermon on fried rice and f one in a series called what makes you happy, and it was all about how I like to obsess over things. Bread is a good one to obsess over. And so Bobby has been making sourdough during the pandemic, and she's talked about it a few times in sermons here, but I've had a chance to taste it. We do this thing here called soup Tuesday where the staff eats soup together on a Tuesday. Not all that exciting branding, but you take turns once a month.
Each cooks soup, and then we eat it together and have lunch. It's fun. But Bobby has brought in some of her homemade sourdough, and it's as good as she said as it is. So take her at her word. In our house though, Rachel and I, we've gotten into pizza dough lately.
I got a pizza oven recently, and so I am working on my fermented double zero Neapolitan dough. I'll let you know it's a work in progress, but we're getting there. All that to say, I can appreciate John's attention to the doughy details here. Five small barley loaves. However, this is not just a Johannine hobby poking through.
This is part of John's telling. See, way back in the Hebrew scriptures in the book of second Kings, there's another story about magically multiplying barley loaves. Elisha is one of the great prophets of the Hebrew people. And at one point, he brings or this man brings Elijah 20 barley loaves as a gift for the man of God. Now Elisha doesn't want to be treated special and so he says, give the bread to the people.
But the guy says, look, that's nice, but I only brought 20 loaves. There's gotta be a 100 people here. I don't have enough to go around. These are for you. So Elisha says, give it to the people to eat for this is what the Lord says.
They will eat and they will have some left over. So he said it before them and they ate and they had some left over just as Elisha said. And that's too similar to be just a coincidence. So my question is, what is John trying to say by pointing out these barley loaves by linking Jesus to Elisha in a way that none of the other gospel writers notice or at least take note of? Well, I think it has to do with the way that the crowd responds to this miraculous meal.
So they follow Jesus around the lake. And they're hungry and they're tired and they're looking for some guidance, someone to lead them, and they are met with gracious abundance, more than they can handle. And John says that once they realized what had happened, the sign that had been performed, they said to each other, surely this is the one that we've been waiting for. But Jesus, knowing that they intended to make him king by force, withdrew again to a mountain by himself. Now, knowing some of the context from Matthew, there's gotta be a bit of a disheartening moment.
Right? Jesus was trying to get away from the crowds in the first place to grieve the loss of his friend, but the crowds come anyway and so he has compassion on them. Yet now he's forced to withdraw again to stop them from doing something foolish. But then maybe that's the point of the story for John. The crowds are wowed not just by a free lunch or even just by a miraculous meal.
No. They are blown away by someone with this kind of miraculous power who would look after them, who would care for them after years of neglect and oppression. And so understandably, they say, this is the one that we want in charge by any means necessary. Except Jesus doesn't see himself that way. Jesus sees himself in line with the prophets who spoke truth to power, not with the kings who wielded it.
And the barley loaves are an editorial choice made by John that placed Jesus in line with the people, with the prophets rather than above them as a king. See, the sign of things to come is the one who brings good things to those who wait, who fills the hungry with everything they need, who takes even our meager best efforts and multiplies them into a world where there is no one left out but. Jesus is the one who does that by standing out side of the centers of power with those of us in need, calling us to change rather than forcing us to do it. And the reason that John goes out of his way to associate Jesus with the prophets instead of the kings is because he knows that force and power can do all sorts of things, but they can never transform the world the way that Jesus intends to. The sign of things to come is not just the miraculous bread.
It's the image of one with infinite power who walks away from where we think power resides. And the great irony of that kind of story is that once we actually hear that welcoming voice in our lives, we slowly come to understand that is the only voice that is ever worth giving our allegiance to. Because the one that demands you bend the knee is not worth your respect. The one that invites you to come, that's the one we will all eventually bow before. And the king who eats with us rather than before us is the only one invested in what all of us truly need to flourish.
May you see signs of things to come all around you this week. Gift and blessing and abundance and generosity, but more than that, might you begin to turn those things into a gift for someone else. And if that lesson comes to you as a spiritual recognition, a moment, or if you notice it in the work of justice and peace, then my prayer is that you trust that the way of God is welcome and never coercion, but is all around you all the time inviting you into something more true. And one day, that story will shape the world to come. Let's pray.
God who invites, who welcomes, who bids us to come to the table where there is more than enough for all of us to sit and eat with you. Might we recognize that this is a source of your infinite power and grace, your glory, not the fact that you can put your thumb on us and demand our allegiance, but instead that you welcome and you offer and you gift us with everything that we need. God, may that recognition sink somewhere deep into our bones and our heart until it becomes the path that we walk in the world. That every good thing that comes to us might be consumed and feed us, strengthen us, give us energy, and then might it be gifted to the person who needs it next. Because as we give away gift and blessing and welcome and embrace, we are truly walking the path of Jesus.
And in this, we celebrate, we participate in the world that is to come. In the strong name of the risen Christ, we pray. Amen.