Incarnational Discipleship

Sermon for Sunday, August 23
Texts: Ephesians 6:10-20, John 6:56-69

As some of you know, Lisa and I spent some time vacationing in D.C. this week. While there, we used the METRO – the subway system – to get around the city. Almost every time we rode the subway, I noticed people around us wearing uniforms. Some were wearing the uniforms of fast food restaurants. Others wore the uniforms of airline personnel. Still others wore uniforms of stores they worked at. And on occasion, the stations had uniformed security, either METRO security or the D.C. police.

Wherever we look, uniforms are around us. They are a part of life, and have been since Adam and Eve created the first “uniforms” out of leaves. And what’s interesting about uniforms is that they tend to draw attention away from the individual and toward that which the uniform represents. A police uniform represents the presence of order and protection in our lives. When someone in a police uniform is within view, we feel safe and protected. Doctors wear white coats to symbolize health and wellness. When someone walks into our exam room or hospital room, we immediately feel confident that our physical ailments will be taken care of – we are in the presence of medicinal healing. When I’m tired and grumpy and need something to pick me up, I am soothed by the sight of the uniformed employees of Starbucks. When I see that black shirt and green apron, I know that I am in the presence of the heavenly liquid called coffee, and my day is about to get better and brighter. Usually the intent of uniforms is to draw our attention away from an individual and toward the company, services, or values they represent.

In this morning’s epistle reading, Paul calls us to wear a uniform of sorts. The central theme of Ephesians is unity among Jews and Gentiles, and so it is fitting that he closes with a metaphor about wearing uniforms. The Ephesians are encouraged to “put on the whole armor of God” in an effort to unite the factions within the Christian community.

Listen to the list of armor: we hold up our pants with the belt of TRUTH, we protect our hearts with the breastplate of RIGHTEOUSNESS, we lace up our shoes of PEACE, we strap on our helmet of SALVATION, we hold in one hand our shield of FAITH, and in the other hand we hold the sword of the Spirit – the WORD OF GOD. Do you see what the standard-issue uniform of Christians is? Do you hear what we are to cloak ourselves in? It is a list full of gifts that God has already given to us. All of these things come from God, and our call is to dress ourselves in the truth, righteousness, peace, salvation, faith, and word that God freely offers to us. This is not the armor of the church, or the armor of Christians, or even the armor of ourselves. This armor we put on is the armor of none other than the God of truth, righteousness, peace, salvation, faith, and word.

And when we wear this armor of God, it is meant to draw attention away from ourselves and toward God. Just like doctors’ white coats and policemen’s navy uniforms and glimmering badges, we are to be adorned with our own uniform consisting of truth, righteousness, peace, salvation, faith, and the word of God. If we put on these things, then when we move through the world, others will see us not as individuals out for our own gain, but as people who are the presence of God in the world.

Of course, the presence of God in this world is most clearly defined through the life of Jesus Christ. Jesus is God incarnate – God in the flesh, God entering humanity, God being present in a very real way in our world and in our lives. Over the last several weeks, I’ve preached on some of the different aspects of what is called the Bread of Life Discourse in the Gospel of John. This morning’s Gospel lesson is the final chapter in that discourse, where Jesus teaches that he is the bread of life, and all who eat this bread will be full of life. The teaching picks up this week at verse 56: “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.” And then in verse 58, his concluding remarks: “This is the bread that came down from heaven…the one who eats this bread will live forever.”

When I read this text, there’s a tendency to gloss over it or sentimentalize it. Yeah sure, we’re supposed to accept Jesus as our savior, yada, yada, yada. But this morning, I invite you to go a little deeper with me. Listen to what Jesus says:

“Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.” (v. 53)

“Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life.” (v. 54)

“ Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and me in them.” (v. 56)

“So whoever eats me will live because of me.” (v. 57)

“But the one who eats this bread will live forever.” (v. 58)

Eat, drink, eat, drink, eat, drink, eat, eat. Jesus is obsessed with eating and drinking. He repeats it over and over, pounding it into our heads that the bread of life, that Jesus, is something to be ingested. And the followers’ first question is, “I don’t understand. Who can accept this?

“Oy vey,” Jesus must’ve muttered to himself. Who said anything about accepting? Note that Jesus is not telling us to ACCEPT the bread. He’s not telling us to take the bread or receive the bread or possess the bread. He’s not calling us to make a declaration that we know the bread. The bread of life, the incarnation of God in the person of Jesus Christ, is not some little thing we accept and then continue on our merry way, like a trinket we pick up on a vacation and take home to sit on a bookshelf. The bread of life is meant to be ingested. It is meant to be completely consumed. We are called to completely consume the bread of life so freely given to us. There is no use in accepting the bread of life, taking it home, placing it on our counter and saying, “There, we now own the bread of life. We’re all set.” Because you know what happens with bread that isn’t consumed? First it gets stale, then it gets moldy, and then it starts stinking up the place, and then we have to throw it out.

How often do we merely accept Jesus into our lives, sit him on the countertop, glance over at him occasionally as he gets stale and moldy, and then discard him without having ever enjoyed his presence? Would you waste food that someone gave you as a gift? If someone baked us a fresh loaf of bread, would we sit and look at it, or would we consume it? Then why don’t we do the same with the bread of life? Why don’t we do the same with Jesus? Why are we so afraid to consume Jesus?

Similarly, what are we doing with the armor of God? Have we accepted our standard-issue belt of truth, breastplate of righteousness, shoes of peace, helmet of salvation, shield of faith, and sword of the word of God? And if we have accepted our whole armor of God, how often are we wearing it? Paul doesn’t say, “keep the whole armor of God in your closet for awhile just in case you need it.” He doesn’t say, “wear it a few times then donate it to Goodwill.”

When your grandmother gives you a sweater for Christmas, what does she say? Does she say, “You should put it in your closet; it’ll look nice there.” Does she say, “I thought it’d be handy just in case you had to wear a sweater for any reason.” No! She says none of these things. What does she say?

“Put it on!” she says. “Put it on! I want to see if it fits you. I think it’ll look really nice on you. Put it on!”

“Put it on,” Paul tells the Ephesians. “Put on the whole armor of God.” The whole thing. The journey of Christian discipleship is not meant to be the passive ownership of the bread of life on a countertop or the armor of God hiding in the back of your closet. It is not meant to be the hoarding of the right knowledge, the correct understanding of doctrine or theology, the accumulation of good deeds, or the tallying up of worship services attended and sacraments received. Christian discipleship must not be reduced to simplistic formulas of “Believe X, Receive Y, Live in Z.” Christian discipleship is much more than that. It is much more than making sure you accept or possess the right things. It is about taking the whole armor of God – truth, righteousness, peace, salvation, faith, and the Word of God – out of our closet and adorning ourselves with these things each day. It is about eating – consuming – the bread of life so that this bread may be the giver and sustainer of life each day.

Christian discipleship is not meant to be a collection of items in a closet or on a kitchen counter. It is meant to be a way of life. When we put on the armor of God and consume the bread of life, the hope is that these things so overtake us and become a part of us that we become incarnational disciples. What I mean by that is that we are called to be God incarnate – the presence of God in the world, just as Jesus Christ is God incarnate – the presence of God in the world. When we live our days wearing the whole armor of God and feasting on the bread of life, then our presence in the lives of our neighbors becomes a presence that points to something beyond us. Our presence becomes the presence of the God within us and the God adorning us. Then, when we move through the world, others will see and hear and encounter our lives and say, “I have seen God living in my midst.” Let us be the incarnation of God in this world, so that when we are with others, they know God’s presence by our words and deeds. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.