Yesterday’s Bread (XXXIII Olympiad Edition)

A sermon preached with the people of St. John’s Episcopal Church in Oakland, California.

This morning in John’s Gospel we pick up in the place where we left off last week, just after the feeding of the 5,000.

When morning comes, the people wake up with a sense that something has changed. That feeling of “being full” – that feeling of “being loved” they wanted to hold onto forever – had shifted. That old, gnawing hunger had returned. And then, news began to spread through the crowd: Jesus has departed from this place. And so have his disciples.

And the people want to feel full and loved, the way they had been, again. So they look to recreate yesterday, today. They go to find Jesus. To bring him back and run through the script again.

And they do find him.

And when they find him, Jesus explains that what they are looking for cannot be found in yesterday’s bread.

What they are looking for, the feeling of fullness and love on that grassy place they are hoping to reclaim will not be found in achieving certain conditions. Or in going back. What they are looking for — that glimpse of the Kingdom of God — is instead found close at hand. It is found. Here. Now.  

And yet – then as now, we can’t help but chase after yesterday’s bread to feel that love. Try to find external circumstances — titles, positions of power, fame and fortune, acceptance and popularity, perfection and mastery — to fill the void.

And chasing after these things is not inherently bad or wrong. But it will hollow us out if we begin to think the chase or what it yields has anything to do with the fundamental truth of who we are.

And who we are is so precious that God offers that feeling of fullness based on the truth of our very being. Not on our achievements, or our particular talents or brilliance, nor on exactly where we are or who we are with. But on our being.

So that feeling on the grass that day? That feeling of fullness? I think that’s the feeling we get when we trust – we really trust – in the value of our whole selves. And, crucially, in the same value in every other human being. 

During our Wednesday Sanctuary Evening gathering this week, I said that it has felt, for me, like the world really needed the Olympic Games this year. Do any of you have that feeling? Even with predictable controversies here and there, an event that mostly brings us news of joy; of human beings doing their remarkable thing, is most welcome.

What I love even more is something has changed in tone since the Olympic Games of my childhood. Something good. Something that makes them more joyful. More and more, athletes are prioritizing their mental health. Giving their all to their sports, but not at the risk of their very selves. We saw it when we watched Stephen Nedoroscik, now affectionately known as “Pommel Horse guy," practice mindfulness meditation from the sidelines, as he prepared to clinch the US Mens’ Gymnastic team’s first medal 16 years. We saw it when we watched British Gold medalist in diving Tom Daley, relax and focus by taking up his signature knitting in the stands. We saw it when 11-time track and field medalist Allyson Felix, worked to open a nursery for Olympic athletes’ children during the games.

Gone are the days, I hope, when we cheered on athletes who competed through gruesome injuries – physical and mental – from which they might never recover. Gone are the days, I hope, that young watching internalize those values as the ideal.  

There are lots of innovators to thank for this shift. But the one I believe has made the most impact is gymnast Simone Biles, certified GOAT: Greatest of All Time.

 The whole world watched three years ago during the Tokyo games, as she withdrew from team and all around competition. And those of us not well-versed in the world of competitive gymnastics learned about the dreaded “twisties,” when an athlete’s “mind and body are not in sync.” A dangerous condition that can result in severe injury. 

And the world, initially anyway, was shocked. Shocked that Biles would not risk serious injury – physical and psychological. Shocked that she would not keep chasing gold. Shocked that she would not keep chasing yesterday’s bread.

 It seems Biles herself, was a bit shocked to find what can happen when, even for a moment, you stop the chase. She tweeted, “the outpouring love & support I’ve received has made me realize I’m more than my accomplishments and gymnastics which I never truly believed before.”

 Simone Biles gave the world, and it seems herself, a reminder of where our belovedness does and does not lie. She is an extraordinary talent. An athlete the likes of which we’ve never seen. And those things matter, and are God-given, and bring joy and inspiration to the world. But those things do not make this woman beloved. Gold does not make this woman beloved. Her belovedness is wrapped up in her very being, made in the image of God.

As I watched Biles run across the floor with her teammates, holding the American flag together like a shared superhero cape after winning the team gold medal; as I watched her stand on the podium with the gold medal for all-around competition; I thought about what it might mean to her now. If it might mean something different. To celebrate these achievements knowing how breathtaking they are. While knowing how loved she would be without them. Without any of it. She did this without sacrificing herself. These medals were not yesterday’s bread. They were something new. A gift to those of us watching, learning to prioritize our own health. And to believe that we too are loved, unconditionally.

We certainly are not all Olympic-level athletes. But I’d venture to guess we all have our own version of chasing after yesterday’s bread in an effort to fill empty space within us and make us feel full. Even when it’s not good for us. Even when it may injure us.

And the world around us encourages that chase.

 But, accepting the invitation of the feeding of the 5,000 was not and is not about a one-time material need met. It is about a new imagsination. A new way of life.

And we won’t get there by chasing yesterday’s bread. And we certainly won’t get there by trying to chase down God. Because God is already right here. Ready to make us full, over and over and over.

If we’ll commit to a new, different, and in many ways, harder way of being.

A way of being that revolves around the fundamental belief in our own belovedness and the belovedness of all of creation. A way of being that holds us just as responsible for our neighbor as we are for ourselves. A way of being that celebrates the unique joy each one of us brings, but does not confuse personal achievements with belovedness.

A way of being that gives us permission to stop chasing yesterday’s bread and accept God’s gift of the bread of life.

And that, friends, will make us full.