Ninth Sunday after Trinity John 6:1-21 Ephesians 3:14-end

It is not the usual way things are arranged in the natural world: according to design, people don’t walk on water, and five barley loaves and two fish are not enough to feed thousands of people. But Jesus does exactly these particular two things in John’s account for today; so, what do we do with that, or, in other words, how do we interpret these events, these phenomena and Jesus’ performance at this stage in the Gospel story? In the passage from the letter to the Ephesians, we are encouraged ‘to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.’ An interesting phrase: the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge. It is quite true, of course, that it is not easy to fathom the mystery of God’s love for us in Christ. The usual way God’s love for his people is explained in the Bible is through metaphor, and comparison with the love of a parent for a child, or a lover for the beloved. And how rational is that, exactly? As the song says: ‘you can’t see it with your eyes, hold it in your hand … Ever since time nothing's ever been found that’s stronger than love’ But even though we cannot explain love, we know that it is essential for our wellbeing, in both the giving and the receiving of love, and we know that it is very powerful. So what does Jesus’ feeding of the five thousand and his walking on the sea tell us, other than that he is able to overthrow the laws of nature? This account in John’s Gospel comes after Jesus’ teaching about his relationship to God, giving proof of his calling, and rebuking those who refuse his offer, saying that those who lack the love of God, don’t accept the one whom he has sent (chapter 5:42). Perhaps we can deduce at least that God’s love for us is simply to be accepted gratefully, with an open mind, and without trying to rationalise it. After all, much of John’s Gospel is about the challenge of the Good News to all existing worldviews, and offers a new perspective of God’s purpose for us. Something that we cannot deserve or work towards earning it. Of course, the crowds are puzzled, as are we! How does Jesus do it? Even if we have a vague notion of the why – God’s love and the revelation of who Jesus is – the how will ultimately escape us. We may ask, ‘Does this matter?’

The feeding of the five thousand gave the people reason to say, ‘This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world’. It was a recognition of Jesus’ identity, if not completely understood. His walking on water, it has been said, can be a theme for meditation. Our lives are full of moments when a storm breaks out, metaphorically speaking; when we are tossed about by the waves and the wind, and the journey of life gets rough. As we are struggling through those times, the presence of God may be felt as comforting, but it may also disturb us: who is this, that follows us like a ghost! This event in John’s Gospel tells us exactly who this is, and if we allow ourselves a moment to listen, we can hear those words: ‘It is I; do not be afraid.’ I like the way this passage ends: ‘Then they wanted to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat reached the land toward they were going.’ Jesus’ presence with us, in the boat, offers us peace but even more than that: safety. With him on board, we reach the harbour even quicker than we imagined. As soon as fear is taken away, we see things in their true perspective and we can rejoice. Rejoice, then, in the love of God that surpasses knowledge, and be filled with the fullness of God. No, it is not rational, and it is not something we can work out scientifically. But we can accept it, like a gift, undeserved, and wonderful. Amen.