In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Our family surnames are fascinating things. Each one captures a slice of history; the history of a family, the history of particular geographical region or geographical feature, the history of a nation. They might even include the history of a particular occupation.

Over the last few years this fascination with family history has led to an explosion in genealogical research. With the aid of the internet everyone has become an amateur genealogist. Digging and searching for clues that will reveal the hidden connections in a family.

I received an e-mail this week from one such amateur genealogist who was doing work on some branch of the Steeper family. I didn't think we were big enough to warrant a branch. I thought more of a shrub close to the ground. Anyway, he informed me that my father was the Rev. William Steeper and he was looking for information on the family. This came as news to me. Here I thought all along my father's name was Harvey Steeper. I think my mother has some explaining to do.

Maybe you have received this kind of correspondence that seeks connections. I know this seeking of connections happens regularly at family reunions, weddings and funerals. Older members trying to figure out where everyone fits in the family and who is connected to who. And knowing one's place in a family or another community is often a comfort. After the turbulence of adolescence and the struggles of early adulthood, most people find security and peace in knowing where they belong. The danger is that one's place can become a pigeonhole. A confining space that allows no room for individuality, no room for surprises. Family origins and reputation become the bars that build the cage.

But once in a while, someone the family or church or town thought they knew will do or say something totally unexpected, and the reaction is predictable. "Who does he think he is? We've known him since he was little boy. How can he say such things?"

Now this is not a new phenomenon. It has probably been going on since humans walked the earth. We see evidence of it in our gospel reading from John. "At this time the Jews began to grumble about him because he said, "I am the bread that came down from heaven. They said, "Is this not Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know?" Notice the reference to family connections.

Jesus is speaking metaphorically but he is understood literally by the crowd. His words come as a surprise and they cause offence. "Who does he think he is?" "How can he say such things?" It is the same today.

Many hear of Jesus and are driven to question what they hear. Surely he was just a man, a moral philosopher; no one could walk on water, no one could feed five thousand people with a few scraps of bread and some fish. Sometimes, I've heard people say, "I wish I could have lived in the first century and witnessed for myself the work of Jesus and actually see him face to face.

The implication of this desire is that belief would somehow be easier. But if that were the case, why did more people of that day seem to reject Jesus than follow Jesus? An important fact that we often overlook. So, "Who was Jesus?"

A few years ago the biblical scholars of the Jesus seminar set out to answer this question. They attempted to reconstruct the real Jesus through historical research and historical speculation. But our problem is not that we don't have enough evidence to answer the question from a historical perspective. Our problem is that Jesus and his teaching is difficult and demanding here and now. Following Jesus is really hard.

Maybe that's why so much energy is expended on attempts to reconstruct a history of Jesus. If we can make him into a historical figure then we don't have to deal with his demands today.

There are so many times when Jesus demands hard things of us. "Go, sell all you have and give the money to the poor." That's hard. "Love your enemies." That's hard. These demands cause scandal. But in our discourse from John Jesus offers a promise. Jesus said, "I am the bread of life." Jesus promises to be the answer to our deepest hungers, that he is more to us than food and drink. He is the source of our very lives.

It is a promise that accessible to us through faith and imagination. And John trusted that their would be some who would have the faith and the imagination to see what Jesus is getting at. Faith resides not so much in the head as in the heart. It is something that can be neither measured nor calculated. It is not about knowing Jesus as a historical figure. Look at the Apostle Paul. Faith is trust, a trust that says Jesus is more than we can wrap our mind around.

Bread of Life becomes bread and wine. They don't so much fill our stomachs as nourish our souls and stretch our imagination. The metaphor becomes the meal. Whoever eats this bread will live forever.

And yet seeing with the heart and not with the mind is something that we adults grow out of. But children can teach us how to see things. "Do you want a cookie, Grandma? Here you go, I made them myself. And how about a glass of milk? Don't they taste yummy?" Imagination, that is what faith is about. A thimble full of wine, a small cube of bread, eaten in fellowship with others. It takes imagination, but in faith, Christ is truly there. THANKS BE TO GOD, AMEN.