Sermon: Trinity 7 - 2020

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.