Why Are You Here? John 6:24 - 35 August 3, 2003, Year B, Proper 13 The Rev. William V. Livingston, Rector Church of the Resurrection, Starkville, Mississippi Diane tells me I have a warped sense of humor - that I tend to see things from a perspective and find humor in things that are just a little out of the norm. For instance, through the generosity of John and Mary Lee Beal, we spent part of our recent vacation at their condo in Orange Beach. Early each morning and evening, Diane and I walked the beach for about an hour. One morning, we took a loaf of bread to feed the sea gulls. While starting with just two gulls, in just minutes, well over a hundred had gathered around us on the beach and hovering over head: catching bread in the air as we threw it, fighting for what landed on the sand, and the braver ones taking pieces from my hand. As I tore the pieces from the loaf I commented to Diane, "This feels like giving out the bread at the Eucharist. The gulls catching the bread in the air are like those who stand to receive, the ones getting what lands on the beach like those who kneel, and the few who take it directly from my hand like the few who open their mouths for the priest to place the bread on their tongue." Diane responded that I needed a longer vacation. There were, however, two differences with the gulls: they exhibited enthusiasm about the bread they received, and they knew why they were there. Here was a quick and easy meal - no having to dive into the Gulf. Stick around til the bread ran out and then move on. So, why are you here? It's a question Jesus asked the crowd following after he had fed them in the wilderness with a few loaves of bread and dried fish. It's a question today's gospel reading asks us. The crowd followed this strange miracle worker: this one who had fed a large crowd with so little effort, this one who taught radically. Were they still hungry? Were they curious: "What unique thing will he teach today?" Were they just bored: "Show us something else we haven't seen. Impress us one more time!" They wanted a quid pro quo God: "Give us a few more signs, meet our desires, then maybe we'll do God's work. They may even believe that the bread Jesus offers is better than the bread the Israelites received in the wilderness, better than the bread he gave them when 12 baskets of remnants were collected, but they do not know why it is better. So, he asks them, "Why are you here? Are you looking for more bread, more miracles? Or, are you looking for eternal life? Why are you here? When we stumble into thousands of local churches on Sundays, what are we really looking for? We still gather wanting more, still thirsty, still hungry. Do we come because it's just expected that we do so? We hunger to be seen, to be known, to matter, to have meaning and purpose. Do we come because our children need to be exposed to church? We are thirsty for recognition and affirmation that we are here. Are we here today because it was convenient and there really wasn't anything better to do? We also hunger to experience that which we do not and cannot fully grasp. Why, indeed, do we gather? Are we just curious what may happen at church today or are we wanting to be transformed? We are a culture and a people trained to want immediate fixes, not transformation, and so for us, too, life would be so much easier if we could ask, "What are the works we must do? What are the rules? What score will it take to get in?" Because the greatness of God's love can be terrifying, it is no wonder people prefer to see God as vengeful judge, setting standards and then punishing violators; prefer to squabble as siblings, as if God were in another room and couldn't hear our pathetic wrangling over toys and privileges; prefer to see God as quick to anger, quick to forget, quick to move on; and prefer to see God in terms of power, not trust; law, not grace. What feeds your soul? Because we grew up with and trust Moses, because we can predict a God of conditional love more than we can a God of unconditional love, we prefer Moses-bread to Jesus-bread. As soon as the bread ran out, the sea gulls catching my bread moved on. Do we want something that quickly satisfies our discomfort so that we can quickly move on? A few years ago, as part of its emphasis on serving those in need, our Diocese offered a prayer I sometimes use at meal blessings: "Give bread to the hungry, O Lord, and a hunger for you to those who have bread." It is no secret that many of us are driven. Human beings are driven by a soul-hunger almost impossible to articulate. Unfortunately, few people know of God's plan to satisfy the hunger of our souls and resort to filling their hearts and lives with things that supply only temporary satisfaction. Jesus declares himself to be the bread of life, sent from heaven to satisfy the longings of the human soul. Have we discovered that Jesus is both food and drink for the hunger and thirst of our souls? Each Sunday as we gather, each day as we struggle through one more day, God offers us transformation, with no strings attached, and often that radically transformed life offends us. Offend us, it may, but it nevertheless is a gift. It is poured out on us until our cup overflows until there are baskets full left over. The gift of a transformed life is freely given, once and for all. However, each day, we must decide to accept it; just as in the wilderness, each day they had to gather the manna. We must seek not the morning manna nor ceremonial wafer, but food that endures for eternal life. Faith requires God to look beyond our ceremonies, our legalism, our self-righteous bickering and our shallow prayers, to see our deepest hungers, and to redirect our yearnings toward food that will last. Otherwise, we will keep doing what we are doing: hiding from God, losing connection with each other, and taking the shallow as normal. Let us look beyond words, beyond what divides us, beyond literal interpretations to transformation. The comedienne, Lily Tomlin, included in one of her routines the line, "I always wanted to be somebody. Maybe I should have been a bit more specific." The truth is that God is specific. God created each one of us as a unique, unrepeatable person. And our challenge in life is to be transformed into that person and to do what we're called to be and do in our lives. So, once again, why are you here? Surely we aren't here to eat a dried tasteless wafer we refer to as bread. Are we here because it's our habit - what we do on Sundays? Or are we here so that what happens today influences every other day of our week? Are we here out of obligation, out of guilt, out of boredom? Or, are we here to be transformed? When I conclude our service today with, "Our worship is complete, it is now that our service begins. Therefore let us go in peace to love and serve the Lord.", will we go home still hungry? Or, like the sea gulls who knew why they gathered around Diane and me on the beach and exhibited their enthusiasm, will we enthusiastically respond, "Thanks be to God!" knowing we are transformed by the love of God and are sent out as part of God's transformation of the world? Why are you here? "I am the bread of life," Jesus says in this Gospel. Jesus is the whole loaf. We cannot have just pieces. We too often forget Jesus was not the messenger but the message. We accept all, or we reject all. He is not talking about physical hunger here. He is talking about a hunger to be so united with the unconditional love of God that it transforms everything about us. Filling this hunger takes a lifetime. Let us not waste a second of it.