A Vision

Scripture John 6:14-20
Translation by Wilda A. Gafney as found in “A Women’s Lectionary for the Whole Church, Year W.”

14 When the people saw the sign that Jesus had done [multiplying the loaves and fish], they said, “This indeed is the prophet who is to come into the world.” 15 When Jesus realized they were about to kidnap him in order to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.

16 And when it was evening, his disciples went down to the sea. 17 And they boarded a boat and headed across the sea to Capernaum. It was now dark and Jesus had not yet come to them. 18 The sea surged; a strong wind was blowing. 19 When they had rowed about twenty-five stadia [three or four miles], they saw Jesus walking upon the sea and coming near the boat and they were terrified. 20 But he said to them, “It is I; be not afraid.”

 

Meditation                                                   

This morning we meet Jesus fresh from performing powerful miracle, the feeding of a huge gathering of people with just a few loaves of bread and some fish. This story is so important—so fundamental to early church, and to our understanding of who Jesus is—the four gospels tell some version of this story a total of six times. It’s important. Jesus feeds people. The gospel of John calls it a “sign.”

 

We come in right after this sign, and we eavesdrop on the people’s reaction: They like it. They think it’s good. In fact, they think it’s so good, they immediately identify Jesus as “the prophet who is to come into the world”—aka, the Messiah. The Christ. The anointed one of God. The one who will lead them out of this mess. And then, we read, the people want to kidnap Jesus, and make him king.

 

The people want a king. That makes sense. We all want good leadership. Especially in times that feel chaotic, unpredictable, times in which we have things like plagues and insurrections. When times are turbulent, it is the most natural thing in the world to look to our leaders and hope they can rise to the occasion. And when we see clearly that they cannot… we begin to look for other, better leaders.

 

But, to be clear, God is not crazy about kings. God tries, hard, to deter the people from having one in the Old Testament, when they begin lobbying the prophet, Samuel. God is massively disappointed that the people do not recognize God as ruler, so Samuel goes back to the people with this message:

 

“These will be the ways of the king who will reign over you: he will take your sons and appoint them to his chariots and to be his horsemen, and to run before his chariots… He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers. He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive orchards and give them to his courtiers. He will take one-tenth of your grain and of your vineyards and give it to his officers and his courtiers. He will take your male and female slaves and the best of your cattle and donkeys and put them to his work. He will take one-tenth of your flocks, and you shall be his slaves. And on that day you will cry out because of your king, whom you have chosen for yourselves, but the Lord will not answer you on that day.” (1 Sam. 8:11-18)

 

The people want a king. And the sign they have just witnessed—Jesus’ ability to feed the people—convinces them that he is their man. And this makes sense, given the psalm Barbara Ann read for us just a few minutes ago—the prayers of the people to God that their ruler will be wise and just, and will care for the poor, the people Jesus calls “the least of these.” Jesus looks like he would be that kind of ruler.

 

Jesus gives that idea a hard “No.” Our translation says “he withdrew” to the mountain, but a better translation is, “he fled.” He wants no part of this. This is a fundamental misunderstanding of what he has done, in the sign of the loaves and fishes. This was no campaign publicity stunt. This was a demonstration of the compassion of Jesus for hungry people. This was a revelation of the power of God at work in him.

 

There are seven signs in the gospel according to John, and taken together, they give us a vision of who Jesus is.

 

In the first sign Jesus changes water into wine, at the wedding feast in Cana. Jesus is the bringer of joy. Jesus is the Vine, and we are the branches.

 

In the second sign, Jesus heals a child dying of fever. Jesus is the rescuer of children, the Good Shepherd.

 

In the third sign, Jesus heals a man who has been paralyzed for thirty-eight years. Jesus is the hope of the hopeless, the Door to new life.

 

In the fourth sign, Jesus feeds the people—more than 5,000 of them—with bread and fish. Jesus is the Bread of Life.

 

In the sixth sign Jesus gives sight to a man born blind. Jesus is the Light of the World.

 

In the seventh sign, Jesus raises his friend Lazarus from the dead. Jesus is the Resurrection and the Life.

 

What comes next in our story is the fifth sign. After Jesus flees to the mountain the disciples get into a boat and start to row, heading home to Capernaum in Galilee. It gets dark, the sea starts to surge, the wind is blowing. It becomes a dark and stormy night. After they have rowed three or four miles, and their boat is undoubtedly filling with water, and the rowers are certainly tiring from their effort—they see something. Someone. On the water. Coming toward them. They see Jesus, walking to them on the water. And they are terrified.

 

There are a couple of reasons to be terrified. One is, this is impossible, and would cause anyone who saw it to begin to question their own perception. Am I ok? Is this actually happening? Is that really him?

 

The other reason to be terrified is that, culturally speaking, what they are seeing has to be a ghost, given the impossibility of water walking. And ghosts or spirits are almost universally bad in this culture. They are understood to be deceivers—even the ghosts or spirits of those you love. They are not to be trusted. They are not to be engaged. They are terrifying.

 

And of course, Jesus knows all that, and so he says, Don’t be afraid. It is I.

 

Actually, what Jesus says is “I Am.” Not, it is I. Not, I am he. I am. Which means that, in this moment, Jesus is claiming the identity of God. He is invoking the holy name of God from the Hebrew Scriptures—he is saying, as he says throughout the gospel of John, the Father, the Lord, and I, are one. I Am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life.

 

He is also saying: These are the lengths I will go to, to avoid being made king. I am walking away from that. I am walking anywhere I need to walk, to get away from that notion of who I am meant to be. I will even walk on water. I will show you the difference, in the starkest terms, between a king and me.

 

Here’s the thing. In John’s gospel, Jesus embraces his oneness with the God of Israel. He shares a vision of that God come to earth: the Bread of Life, the Vine to our branches, the Light of the World, the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Kings are about human systems and priorities, as one writer said, “politics and policies and communities and individuals.” Even the best leaders—even the best kings we see in scripture—can’t get away from the devices and desires that derail us from fully giving ourselves over to God. Jesus has fully given himself over to God.

 

The people want a king, but Jesus makes it clear that is a misreading of what he has come to do. He came to show us the love of God made flesh. He came to show us, by those seven signs, what that love looks like in action, how we might participate in it. And he came to tell us: I Am. Be not afraid.

 

Thanks be to God. Amen.