Twenty-First Sunday In Ordinary Time
“What if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before?”
Jesus asked a lot of his original followers, the hearers of John’s gospel, and Christians ever since, part of which comes to a head in this week’s reading. Some had so much difficulty accepting his statement that the “one who feeds on me will have life because of me” (from last week’s gospel) that they dropped out of the group. If that weren’t enough, the Son of Man would have to ascend, eventually to heaven but first to the cross. What kind of Messiah, what kind of “Holy One of God” was this whose flesh must be eaten and who would have to die for those who believe in him to have eternal life? Jesus asked some tough questions!
Those among Jesus’ disciples who raised the question “this saying is hard; who can accept it?” reflect just how “shocking” was Jesus’ teaching that eating his flesh and drinking his blood would bring eternal life. Not everyone who didn’t believe took Judas’ path of murderous betrayal; most only fell away and “returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied him.” Does your faith in Jesus and participation in the Eucharist make a difference in your everyday “way of life”? How do you “accompany” Jesus each day? We are here!! We’re betting time and eternity on some pretty mystical principles. Jesus is God. God is in the bread. The bread is in us. Which means God is in us, too. Do you believe this?
What do we do when the rubber hits the road? “The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and left untried,” wrote British author G.K. Chesterton. The gospel teachings are indeed challenging; they go against the grain, especially in a culture that encourages us to focus on a different “trinity”—the self-absorbed trinity of Me, Myself, and I. Jesus challenged us to look beyond our own needs (which God is fully aware of in any case) and respond to the needs of those around us. Many walked the other way when they heard this message. But others stayed. Will you stay or will you go? The betrayal of Judas is replayed in our lives when we choose to walk with the Master no more.
Pray that we may grow in holiness when the rubber hits the road
Father William
Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
“The bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.”
Jesus spoke of the need to eat his flesh and drink his blood to have eternal life in terms of the past, present, and future. In the past the Israelites ate manna in the desert but “still died.” In the present, he said, there was the need to “eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood” in order to “have life within you.” Those who do that now will be raised “on the last day” and “will live forever.” Scripture this week shares deep wisdom!
Taste and see that the Lord is good! The Psalmist sings. Be filled with the Spirit! Paul urges the Ephesians. And Jesus proclaims that his flesh is true food, his blood true drink! Most of the folks who hear these marvelous calls go out, yawn and decline the invitation. Why is that? Wisdom’s party, of course, competes with the foolishness that keeps much of the world stuck in a narrow groove, unable to advance in the way of understanding. As a person of faith, what does wisdom mean to you? Wisdom has a built a house and is having a banquet spread with her teaching. Will you attend, “not as foolish persons but as wise”? What will you find on the table?
Jesus reveals himself as the source of eternal life—but the crowds have already left the challenging dialogue with him in favor of muttering among themselves, fixated on the small points that small minds love to argue ad infinitum. Yet Jesus does not withdraw the magnificent offer of himself. It’s still on the table—this Table—every time we gather. It’s here whether we accept or decline, whether we expect anything or nothing will come of it. Expect more. Expect the moon! Expect the Lord. Seeking the guidance of God’s Spirit, we pray that the will of God be made visible in our lives. Annie Dillard gets it: how we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.
Drink deeply from the cup of mystery,
Father William
Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
I am not sure how the Gospel passage strikes you, but it sounds like pretty heavy stuff to me. In conjunction with the first reading, it tries to address an aspect of our life journey that in the summertime we are less inclined to think of, but that is nevertheless part of our experience of life. Elijah was despairing—again. This time it wasn’t only famine and drought. His land and king had gone bad, the prophets who might have pointed things in a better direction were dead, and someone wanted to kill him, and so he decided to lie down under a tree and wait to die. God, however, wouldn’t let him—also again. Twice an angel woke him and fed him, not only to keep him alive but also to prepare him for a long walk to meet his God. In what ways does God touch you and give you strength and hope for life’s journey?
What Elijah goes through is what today we would call a period of depression. His self-image, his confidence in life is shattered. He cannot handle it anymore. Things are getting too much for him. He has hit rock bottom. What he would really love to do is go to sleep and never wake up again. All the trouble he has had to face is just getting to him. His life journey looks very much like a dead-end street to him, and death looks very tempting. But in the midst of the desperation, he has an experience of God that helps him get on his feet again. The bread and water that he receives is more than physical nourishment. It represents something that gives him courage to face life again. For all we know it may have been a fellow traveler who has not lost faith in Elijah, another fellow human being who is prepared to spend some time with Elijah and who has that rare ability of putting Elijah back together again. That fellow traveler has become for Elijah a messenger of hope from God.
The claim that Jesus makes in today’s Gospel is that he is such a messenger of hope, a messenger of confidence, a messenger from God for all of us. In fact, Jesus claims that in him God has become a fellow journeyer for all of us, and he will see things through with us, both the high points and the low points. When Jesus speaks of himself: “I am the bread of life”, then it is just another way of saying “I am the way, the truth, and the life. I am the Good Shepherd.” Perhaps these words irritate some of us; we may be turned off by them. It nevertheless remains the claim with which the Gospel challenges us. What Jesus says there is basically: “Try to do it on your own, try to do it without me and you will get nowhere. But try to do it with me, and I assure you that I will bring you home. Believe in me and you will live.” When he speaks of raising us up and giving us eternal life, he is also telling us that this becomes reality in concrete, very ordinary circumstances of life where we are given a hand to get up and move on again. Thomas à Kempis, in The Imitation of Christ writes: whoever wishes to understand fully the words of Christ must try to pattern their whole life on that of Christ.
Stay rooted to Christ in the rising and falling of our lives.
Father William