26 July 2020
Text: Mark 8:1-9 (Gen 2:7-17,
Rom 6:19-23)
In the name of +
Jesus. Amen.
As
soon as God “formed the man of dust from the ground” and “breathed into his
nostrils the breath of life,” He “planted a garden in Eden” and placed the
first man there. And right away, we
learn that this garden was lush, filled with trees that were “good for food.”
Food
was plentiful in the way that air is superabundant. There was no struggle to survive the way we
see human beings and animals having to invest hours of every day gathering food
to stay alive because food is scarce.
God
put man in a garden because of the abundance of food. But He also gave the man and the woman one
rule, “Of the tree of knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the
day that you eat of it you shall surely die.”
We
know what happened. Lured by the devil
to try to “be like God,” Eve was tempted to eat the forbidden fruit. Adam joined her. And the abundant live-giving food became the
agent of death. And what’s more, the man
would have to work the ground in hard labor, and turn the grain into bread. Adam and Eve were expelled from the garden. Each day would become a struggle for
survival. There would be such shortages
for food, that animals would even turn to eating one another. Man no longer lived in harmony with nature and
each other. The struggle for survival
became a cut-throat race against death – which would come as sure as the night
follows the day. Food ceased being
something solely to be enjoyed, but became a source of struggle and conflict
and even warfare.
And
yet, even among us today, there is still a small, merciful reminder of the Garden
of Eden. For even in our sinful state,
our struggle for survival, our necessary contention with scarcity – we still
enjoy eating. Dining together is a
joy. It binds us together in fellowship.
Making a meal is an act of service and
of love. And as imperfect as our food
is, we can still savor it.
We
all know the old saying about people from South Louisiana, that we spend lunch
discussing our dinner plans. It’s funny
because it’s true. We have a longing to
return to the Garden, the place where food was perfect and superabundant. And what prevents us from returning is sin,
and its consequence, death.
Our
Lord had mercy on the massive crowds that came to hear Him preach, but who “had
nothing to eat.” He had compassion on
them in their plight, their struggle for survival as “poor, miserable sinners” wrestling
with scarcity and the need to survive. And
so in His mercy, and as a demonstration of what the kingdom of God is all
about, Jesus defiantly overcame the scarcity that is our lot as sinners. One this day, scarcity was overcome by
abundance, and the “desolate place,” that is, the desert in which He taught
them, became like a garden – a place where food is not scarce, where the bread
is not made laboriously by the sweat of the brow, but rather where God provides
out of His lovingkindness, purely by grace, as a free gift.
Our
Lord, “having given thanks,” blessed the bread and fish. He distributed the miraculous food by means of
His called servants. And the thousands
of people “ate and were satisfied.” The Greek
word translated as “satisfied” means that they were full; they had no lack, no
scarcity. And what’s more, there were
leftovers. Scarcity was taken out of the
picture that day. And this is what the
kingdom of God looks like, dear friends. It looks like the Garden of Eden, an endless
supply of what we need: no scarcity, no lack, no shortage, no struggle, no
predation, no competition for scraps. God
provides, rolling back the wages of sin.
And there is even more where that came from.
“For
the wages of sin is death,” as St. Paul teaches us, “but the free gift of God
is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
We die because of sin – the sin of our ancestors, and our own sin. We die because we live in a world of scarcity,
and our bodies are damaged, and they will eventually wear out. This is the wage, the just desserts, of our sinful
thoughts, words, and deeds; our own rebellion against God and His commandments
for us. Death is what satisfies the
justice we deserve. But listen to the
glorious promise, dear friends, in spite of it all, “the free gift of God,” given
by undeserved grace and mercy, is the very opposite of death: life. And not just life, but “eternal life” that is “in
Christ.” You can’t buy it, you can’t
earn it. It is a gift. A free gift.
A gracious gift.
The
wages of sin have been paid by our Lord’s death on the cross, His flesh and
blood were offered as the one overarching atonement, for He indeed is “the Lamb
of God that takest away the sin of the world.”
And
what’s more, dear friends, our Lord explains the “free gift” as His very flesh,
offered on the cross, and given to us to eat and to drink in the Holy Supper. Jesus offers His flesh “for the life of the
world.” When we eat ordinary bread, we
will always need more. Our hunger is
only satisfied temporarily. But when we
eat the miraculous bread of Holy Communion, this food delivers eternal life,
sustaining us spiritually and physically unto eternity.
And
even as we rejoice in our ordinary feasting with friends and loved ones,
sharing table fellowship, eating bread and drinking wine, better yet, in this
miraculous, sacramental meal, not unlike the meal served by Jesus “in those
days when again a great crowd had gathered,” we are blessed by God’s
providence, by His mercy, giving us His life, even as He takes upon himself our
sins and the wages of sin.
And
we celebrate this Good News with the feast itself, here in this holy place, a
foretaste of the never-ending banquet in eternity, as we who are baptized and
who believe will be raised in the flesh, when we join our beloved ones around
the table to celebrate the Lamb’s feast forever. That is our Lord’s promise.
There
will be no scarcity, no “desolate place,” no separation from our loved ones, no
death, no sorrow, no pain, no hunger, no lack, no struggle for survival. And even as our Lord created man and placed him
in a garden, and even as He Himself rose from the tomb set in a garden, we will
live in the eternal garden fed with an overabundance of perfect and glorious food,
of sweet wine as our cup overflows.
Let
us ponder this mystery, dear friends, when we come to the communion rail to eat
and to drink, where the Lord blesses our meal, where His called servants distribute
to you the “free gift” of the forgiveness of sins, where the veil is lifted,
and where we are transported for a brief moment into this eternal garden with
our Lord, “with angels, archangels and all the company of heaven,” where we sit
at table with our Lord in His glory, and where we feast with one another as
brothers and sisters.
In
the words of the sacred hymn; “Let all mortal flesh keep silence,” knowing that
our mortality will be no more, for we are consuming the eternal flesh of the Lamb. We eat.
We drink. We are satisfied by the
“free gift of God” even unto eternal life.
Welcome
to the Garden. Amen.
In the name of the Father
and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.
Amen.
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