There are people I don’t like to be around. They say or do things I find offensive. I have colleagues in ministry who affect me this way. When I see them coming my way, I take avoidance measures.

 

People who are intolerant of opinions that differ from their own affect me this way. They have information you need to know on multiple topics, and if you don’t agree with them you are naïve or uninformed. If you persist with your disagreement…and refuse to change your mind…you are dangerous, even evil, because you might lead others astray.

 

Recently I was involved in a “conversation” with someone about health care reform. I know many people who are among the working poor, and who are without health insurance, so their families are at risk. Indeed, one of my own children has a chronic health condition that requires ongoing care of a quality that is not available to him since he has no health insurance. My position on this issue differed from that of the person with whom I was talking. And when I would not surrender my opinion, I became not only wrong but dangerous; because people like me will destroy the American health care system if our views prevail in the policy debate.

 

Then there are those times when we feel that people are avoiding us. Maybe we call someone repeatedly and get no answer, and we begin to imagine that they see it’s us on caller ID and don’t pick up…or we do reach them and they don’t seem interested in talking with us…or we don’t receive an invitation to a party at their home.

 

It could be that we have active imaginations. Maybe the person was simply not home all those times we called. Did we leave a message asking them to call back? Or, did we just hang up and assume they did not want to speak to us? Maybe they were worried about something when we did reach them, and that’s why they seemed disinterested. Did we ask if they were okay? Maybe we were not invited to a party because it was a gathering of people from the same workplace or civic club. Since we don’t work at the same place, or belong to the same club, it is appropriate that we were not invited to the party.

 

Or, of course, it could be that people really are avoiding us.

 

Either way, we can begin to feel isolated and wonder if we still have friends…

 

So we understand how Jesus is feeling in today’s lesson from John. The opening verse in Chapter 6 indicates that Jesus had a large following: “After this Jesus went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee…A large crowd kept following him.” But by the time we get to the end of the chapter in today’s reading, his entourage is down to “the twelve.”

 

It sounds like Jesus is getting discouraged. He is teaching in the synagogue in Capernaum when we pick up the story today. Only recently he had taught in the synagogue in Nazareth, his home town, and the townsfolk there made it clear he was unwelcome. In fact, we read that “when they heard this (what he taught), all in the synagogue were filled with rage. They drove him out of town…He went down to Capernaum, a city in Galilee, and was teaching them on the Sabbath.” (Luke 4:28-31)

 

Our reading today has a similar theme. He is teaching, and people are finding his words hard to accept. Some followers begin to fall away…

 

Let’s consider Jesus’ words and his audience in context. Just before where we begin today, Jesus had said some startling things: “I have come down from heaven…I am the bread of life…Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died…he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life”…(38, 48-49, 54). He adds, in our reading: “This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever.”

 

Now you and I find the talk about eating flesh and drinking blood offensive. But these words are more offensive to the audience in the synagogue at Capernaum than they are to us. Our sensibilities are insulted, but their faith is insulted.

 

Try to imagine the affect of these remarks. Nothing is more sacred to Judaism than the story of the forty year Exodus of their ancestors; the escape from Egypt and journey to the Promise Land. This story is rehearsed throughout the Hebrew Bible. It is as central to Jewish faith as the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus is to Christian faith. It is told and retold to each generation. God saved Israel from bondage. God led the people through the desert to the Promise Land, and along the way performed miracle after miracle, including providing manna from heaven each morning to feed them as they traveled.

 

And here, today, this Nazarene with a common background appears in the synagogue and says he is the real bread from heaven. Forget that stuff about bread from God in the wilderness. Your ancestors ate that bread, and they died. “But the one who eats this bread will live forever.”

 

(Additionally, the notion of drinking blood was not merely offensive because of the cannibalistic connotations, but because consuming the blood of a creature was a violation of the dietary laws devout Jews practiced. So, even if they understood that Jesus was using his body and blood metaphorically, its use was still in poor taste to a devout Jew. Using the consumption of blood to describe the way to eternal life would be telling Jews that unless they accepted the new covenant in the blood of Jesus, they would not have eternal life with God.)

 

Try to imagine if someone stepped into our sanctuary (Jesus, remember, is in a synagogue when he says these things) and said: People! The cross, empty tomb – forget that stuff. That is ancient history! Yesterday’s news! I am the real thing. Follow me.

 

We read that “when many of his disciples” heard him talking this way…about flesh and blood…they said: “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it.” We go on then to read that “because of this, many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him. “So Jesus asked the twelve, ‘Do you also wish to go away?’” (verses 66, 67)

 

(This is the only place in his gospel that John mentions “the twelve.” The “disciples” are people who follow Jesus, in this gospel. Most are curious because of his reputation, but they turn back when the teaching gets tough and the way hard, and they dwindle to “the twelve” mentioned in verse 67.)

 

The question is timeless. It is directed not only to the twelve then. It is asked of people who follow Jesus today. When the teaching gets hard to accept, will we go away?

 

We go, because Jesus’ teachings are hard to swallow in places; are just not palatable to our taste. We go, because we find Jesus’ teachings hard to believe and impossible to completely follow.

 

 

Who can accept or do these things?

 

 

Preachers hope that passionate worship…worship filled with beautiful music, authentic prayers, inspired sermons…will result in the congregation growing in faith and in numbers.

 

Indeed, we measure success in ministry by the numbers of people we attract and keep, at least in part. Denominational leaders examine data from churches about things like their membership and their weekly attendance, and they use these as gauges or indicators of the pastor’s effectiveness in ministry.

 

At any given time there are professional seminars held around the country that ministers and lay people can attend to learn about new church growth principles. Some of these make the church a place that will not offend anyone’s palate, because the food is so bland. In fact, some of these practices make the church little more than another commodity for middle class consumers; another place to go to learn some interesting things, be entertained, meet new people and enlist in a number of activities.

 

But Jesus’ words today do not attract a crowd of new disciples. Instead, his words lead to a decline in his following: Because of what he said, many who were following him left.

 

The gospel has always been offensive to some. We prefer less spicy food. It is important that we believe some things, but it is also important that we not get in over our heads with this thing.

 

People search for churches that meet their expectations…churches that speak their language…churches that believe as they believe. And some people fall away from churches when the leader says things they don’t agree with or if the church takes stances on controversial cultural issues that have political, social and ethical implications.

 

Some people leave churches because their parent was hospitalized and no one visited. Others leave because they perceive the church to be indifferent to the poor or intolerant toward gays. Still others leave because the American flag is not up front in the sanctuary or because God was referred to in the feminine in a baptism service.

 

Maybe questions are what we best take away from today’s service. What is it that makes me turn away from Jesus? What do I find objectionable in Jesus’ teachings, and why? Do I want to be a disciple, or is it too hard, or too embarrassing?

 

And maybe the related question we need to ask has to do with our church. Why do some leave our church? Is it because we demand too much, or ask too little of people? Is it because we live our faith boldly, or because we seem like any other collection of people in an entertainment hall or social club?

 

And maybe we should wrestle with this question in the days ahead: what would my life be like without this body of believers? To whom or what will we turn when we need a hand to lead us safely across the divide of doubt that keeps us from a faith that will be with us when we are alone…that will sustain us in the end...a faith that makes Jesus a part of our very being; just as is the food we eat, the water we drink, and the air we breathe. Amen.