“Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him.” (John 6:56)
Theologians call the concept of our lives being lived “in Christ” incorporation. Paul was fascinated with the idea, using the phrase “in Christ” over and over in his letters. But he didn’t invent the idea—it came straight from Jesus. During his ministry, Jesus told the disciples they would live, and should remain, “in me.” John 6:56, which we heard in church last Sunday, is one of those instances.
Simply put, the life of the Christian is lived in Christ’s own life, and Christ lives in the Christian. This isn’t a metaphor or abstraction, but instead a claim about a new beyond-our-senses reality that is more real than our physical bodies. As Paul said in Gal. 2:20, “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.” In Col. 1:27, he wrote that God’s glorious mystery is “Christ in you, the hope of glory.” The life that we are living is actually Jesus’ life, lived through us, and our lives are “hidden with Christ in God” (Col. 3:3). Living in Christ, having his life lived through us, doesn’t make us less of who we are or eliminate our personalities. When we live in Christ, and when he lives in us, we truly become ourselves in the deepest sense, rather than a flimsy imitation of who we were created to be. We were created to have our lives intertwined with the life of our Creator, and this is what occurs when we are incorporated into, or made a part of, the Son of God.
Don’t be surprised if you can’t get your mind around this concept! That our lives are lived in Christ and that his life is lived in us is beyond our comprehension. We could wrestle with this thought for years and still barely appreciate all that it means. How can our lives be his life, and his ours? How can we be a part of him, and yet still remain ourselves? These are questions beyond our comprehension!
Even though we can’t fully understand our incorporation in Christ, one powerful implication can encourage us. If our lives are no longer our own, but are instead Jesus’ own life, then there is a limit to what loneliness, anxiety, or fear can do to us. This is not to say that we won’t experience those things! The strongest Christians go through times like this—Jesus’ tears in Gethsemane are proof that being a Christian doesn’t eliminate loneliness and soul-wrenching agony. Paul was once so “utterly burdened beyond his strength that he despaired of life itself” (II Cor. 1:8). It isn’t sin to be discouraged, lonely, or overwhelmed. But loneliness, fear, or anxiety is never the final word, because Jesus’ life is alive in us.
He is alive in you. You are alive in him. Nothing that occurs to you is outside of him. He is never absent. Your life itself is his life, and he has already been through the temptation in the wilderness and the sorrow of Gethsemane. He has already been through the cross; he has already been resurrected! Nothing can happen to you beyond what he has already experienced, none of it will shake his grip on you, and none of it will take him by surprise. Rest in the fact that your life is forever bound up in his!
Steven+
Scripture Reflections
Over the last few weeks, the young adult group has been studying the seven miraculous signs of Jesus in the Gospel of John. Since the normal leaders are out of town on a diocesan retreat, I get to teach this evening on John 11, which describes Jesus raising Lazarus. This is the seventh and last sign—the climatic demonstration of Jesus’ power, character, and agenda—and at its heart is Jesus’ declaration, “I am the resurrection and the life.” Not that he offers it, but that he IS it! And what is more, he tells Martha that his life and resurrection become ours in the present when we live and believe in him. If this truth sunk into the deep places of our souls, all earthly situations would look different. But I want to use this space to highlight another theme in the narrative.
The story begins with Jesus in another town and Martha and Mary sending word to Jesus that Lazarus was sick. Their intentions are clear: they want Jesus to come and heal their brother. They have good reason to assume he will, because he is extremely close to this family. But Jesus doesn’t come; instead, he stays where he is for two more days. Verses 5-6 are confusing: “Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. So, when he heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was.”
We would expect the opposite! He loved them, so why didn’t he go running to their side? This is what Martha and Mary think. Both say to him later, “If you had arrived earlier, you could have done something for Lazarus!” But we don’t have to wonder why he chose to stay away in their moment of crisis or why he didn’t answer their prayer right away. From the beginning of the story (v. 4) to the end (v. 40), Jesus makes it clear that he delayed in order to demonstrate God’s glory. Lazarus being healed wouldn’t demonstrate the aspect of God’s glory that he wanted to demonstrate. Only a resurrection could do that.
At first glance this seems to mean that his love for the family was second in his affections to the glory of God. (This is actually true—prioritizing anything over the glory of God, even the love for a friend, is idolatry.) But the passage doesn’t say this, and it doesn’t allow us to see “love for friends” in competition with (and losing to) “the glory of God.” After all, it says directly that he loved them, so he stayed two days longer. The point is that his desire for the glory of God was intricately tied to his love for the family. He loved them, so he wanted them to see God’s glory, so he delayed.
This is the point when the story should begin to sink into our hearts. We pray, hoping for immediate answers, and oftentimes, God seems silent or distant. We can interpret this as “he didn’t hear,” or “he doesn’t love me,” or “he isn’t able to do this,” or “prayer doesn’t work.” But the answer might be as simple as the one we find in this story. He loves you, and therefore delays, because in the delay he would show you the glory of God in a greater way than simply saying “yes” to your prayer. As you pray, encourage your own heart! God loves his children and wants to show them his glory. If this sometimes means he has to say, “Wait!” to us, do not lose faith!
Steven+
Scripture Reflections
After Israel had passed through the Red Sea, they found themselves in the wilderness with nothing to eat. When they complained to Moses and Aaron, God responded with a gift. He would give them bread from heaven, as much as they could ever need.
But the gift also came with a test. Would Israel receive the gift, and replace their grumbling with gratitude? Would they obey the word that came with it? Would they trust that God had given them everything they would need?
When Israel gathered God’s bread, everyone had enough. No one gathered too little, or too much. The food God gave satisfied. Still, some tried to save leftover food for the next day. Maybe God’s provision would run out, or he would change his mind. That food spoiled. It "bred worms and stank.”
On the 6th day, however, God told them to gather extra, and to set it aside for the Sabbath day. Some still tried to disobey, but when they went out to gather they found nothing. While they looked for bread that wasn't there, those who rested had fresh, “unperished” bread.
In John 6, after Jesus had fed the 5,000, he was approached by people who wanted more of his miraculous bread. They asked him: “What must we do, to be doing the works of God?” In other words, what’s the test? Jesus answered: “believe in him whom he has sent.” Receive the bread from heaven that God has given in Christ. “Do not work for the food that perishes,” the food that cannot satisfy you, the false food that drives you away from the rest God gives.
Jesus is the bread that does not perish. He is the bread that sustains us in God’s rest. The test is to receive him and want nothing else. There is nothing to add, no other bread that can feed us. If we try to add to him we will be like those Israelites in the wilderness, refusing God’s rest while we search for bread that can’t be found.
We are also prone to chase things that cannot satisfy--distractions, entertainment, security, wealth, comfort, approval. These aren’t bad in themselves, but they can’t feed us, and they make lousy gods. When we give ourselves to them we are always left weary and hungry. If we take an honest look at our lives, can’t we see how true this is?
Jesus’ answer echoes Is. 55:2: “Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy?” He is enough. He satisfies. Do the things God has called you to do. Do them well, and even enjoy them, but do not seek satisfaction in them. They cannot give you what you need. And do not let those things draw you away from the rest in God’s presence that Jesus offers. He is always enough.
Justin