13th Sunday After Pentecost, August 23, 2015

Collect for the Day

Grant, O merciful God, that your Church, being gathered together in unity by your Holy Spirit, may show forth your power among all peoples, to the glory of your Name; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

                                                             

Reflections: It is not division that shows our strength, but unity. We know it is far easier to take our marbles and go home. But it is much more difficult to stay engaged, knowing that the people on the “other side” have an equal right to be heard. It takes not only courage, backbone, and character. It takes self-transcendence—in other words, grace.

First Reading: Joshua 24:1-2a,14-18

Joshua gathered all the tribes of Israel to Shechem, and summoned the elders, the heads, the judges, and the officers of Israel; and they presented themselves before God. And Joshua said to all the people, "Thus says the LORD, the God of Israel: ‘Now therefore revere the LORD, and serve him in sincerity and in faithfulness; put away the gods that your ancestors served beyond the River, and in Egypt, and serve the LORD.’ Now if you are unwilling to serve the LORD, choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served in the region beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you are living; but as for me and my household, we will serve the LORD."

Then the people answered, "Far be it from us that we should forsake the LORD to serve other gods; for it is the LORD our God who brought us and our ancestors up from the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery, and who did those great signs in our sight. He protected us along all the way that we went, and among all the peoples through whom we passed; and the LORD drove out before us all the peoples, the Amorites who lived in the land. Therefore we also will serve the LORD, for he is our God."

Reflections: I don’t know about you, but so often things get foggy in my head, what with everything I have to do and worry about and hope for and need and want. That is to say, I can be so influenced by my state of mind and heart that I cannot figure out—let alone act on—what is good.

At least for me, clarity can’t be forced (which must make me exasperating). I can’t simply will it, and it doesn’t come just because someone yells at me or threatens me. But suddenly, maybe by accident, someone says something that opens up a different perspective. It frees me from the exhausting loop of thoughts and anxieties. It enables me to see and--choose--what is good.

I think the people of Israel found themselves in a similar situation. Just imagine: a large number of those who had lived in Egypt died in the wilderness. Consequently, many of those who entered the Promised Land were too young to have lived in cities. The memory of how to live in settlements would have faded with the older generation. So the Israelites were faced with figuring out how to stay in one place, rebuild and repair houses, manage property, tend vineyards, negotiate water rights . . .

In contrast, the Canaanites whose cities the Israelites occupied had been adept at urban life; their gods understood the sophisticated needs of a settled civilization (and it didn’t hurt that they weren’t jealous about having shrines in the living room). Compared to Canaanite deities, what did the mysterious and temperamental God of the Israelites have to offer? His track record included a miserable 40-year trek in wasteland. Not stellar. I can imagine the Israelites spinning their dreidels, weighing the odds, hedging their bets. 
         Then Joshua speaks.

Psalm 34:15-22 Benedicam Dominum

The eyes of the LORD are upon the righteous, * and his ears are open to their cry.

The face of the LORD is against those who do evil, * to root out the remembrance of them from the earth.

The righteous cry, and the LORD hears them * and delivers them from all their troubles.

The LORD is near to the brokenhearted * and will save those whose spirits are crushed.

Many are the troubles of the righteous, * but the LORD will deliver him out of them all.

He will keep safe all his bones; * not one of them shall be broken.

Evil shall slay the wicked, * and those who hate the righteous will be punished.

The LORD ransoms the life of his servants, * and none will be punished who trust in him.

Epistle: Ephesians 6:10-20

Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power. Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand therefore, and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness. As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace. With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

Pray in the Spirit at all times in every prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert and always persevere in supplication for all the saints. Pray also for me, so that when I speak, a message may be given to me to make known with boldness the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it boldly, as I must speak.

Reflections: St. Paul’s letters make frequent reference to his suffering, imprisonment, and abuse. All inflicted on him by . . . people. So how can he write, “Our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh”? In this passage, Paul makes it clear that danger to one's physical person is not the real danger. The wellbeing of our soul isn’t threatened by what happens to our bodies—illness, changes of fortune, hunger, pain, even death.

According to Paul, the real opponent is “the wiles of the devil” which we encounter in “rulers . . . authorities . . . cosmic powers, and . . . spiritual forces.” What are these categories? Merely relics of an outdated worldview embraced by few today? Or might we know them by different names? Could we perhaps find them in the temptations of power? willful blindness to injustice? unchecked ideologies? hardness of heart? objectification of others? What would you identify as dangerous to the soul?

Gospel: John 6:56-69

Jesus said, “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever." He said these things while he was teaching in the synagogue at Capernaum.

When many of his disciples heard it, they said, "This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?" But Jesus, being aware that his disciples were complaining about it, said to them, "Does this offend you? Then what if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before? It is the spirit that gives life; the flesh is useless. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life. But among you there are some who do not believe." For Jesus knew from the first who were the ones that did not believe, and who was the one that would betray him. And he said, "For this reason I have told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted by the Father."

Because of this many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him. So Jesus asked the twelve, "Do you also wish to go away?" Simon Peter answered him, "Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God."

Reflections: Why do we go to church? Surely we gather for comfort, affirmation, fellowship. We come to be confirmed in our faith, to be soothed, to renew our hope. But if that’s true, then what’s the point of Jesus’ “hard sayings?” Even his own disciples found them troubling. Such teachings raise difficulties and more questions than they answer. If the point of worship services were only to comfort and not to challenge, the church would probably excise difficult passages, but it doesn’t.

Because our Sunday lectionary is on a three-year cycle, every triennium we encounter the same readings. But while the words we hear may be the same, we have changed. This repeated exposure helps us internalize a text, incorporate it into our bodies, so we have not only head knowledge, but living knowledge. The reading and rereading of teachings we might actually prefer not to hear invites us to listen to them especially deeply.

So much of modern-day reading is functional. We read for information, for fun, or even simply as drudgery to accomplish (as in an unpleasant school assignment). Way back in the early 6^th century, St. Benedict taught a practice of contemplative reading called lectio divina (pronounced lek-si-o) that is still practiced today. 
The purpose of Lectio divina is to train the heart to listen. It allows us to savor a text, to ruminate on it, to dwell in it by carrying it around with us. Without feeling we should memorize, regurgitate, explain, figure out, or interpret the reading, we are free to allow it to unfold in our awareness like a bud unfolds into a flower. The practice of contemplative reading is both listening and prayer; it is a form of listening prayer. Perhaps Jesus’ “hard sayings” are invitations to this sort of reading.

12th Sunday After Pentecost, August 16, 2015

Collect for the Day

Almighty God, you have given your only Son to be for us a sacrifice for sin, and also an example of godly life: Give us grace to receive thankfully the fruits of his redeeming work, and to follow daily in the blessed steps of his most holy life; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Reflections: “To receive thankfully the fruits of his redeeming work.” It’s difficult to be thankful for something you’re immersed in all the time. David and I recently went a month without gas. Not car fuel, natural gas. (It was a grace, really—big gas leak under the house; it got repaired before the whole house exploded). But it mean no heat for water and cooking. Fortunately, we have a microwave, so we didn’t lack hot food completely. Plus, a “cold” shower in a Texas summer isn’t so far below body temperature that it’s traumatic. But even so, now the gas is back on, we’re grateful. I wonder how long before David and I don’t notice anymore.

          Most of the time, we forget the Mystery of Redemption and just get on with our lives. But when those lives bring us to our knees, when God meets us in our desperation, it’s hard to tell where the grace ends and the thankfulness begins. And maybe that’s exactly right.

 

First Reading: Proverbs 9:1-6

Wisdom has built her house,
she has hewn her seven pillars.
She has slaughtered her animals, she has mixed her wine,
she has also set her table.
She has sent out her servant girls, she calls
from the highest places in the town,
"You that are simple, turn in here!"
To those without sense she says,
"Come, eat of my bread
and drink of the wine I have mixed.
Lay aside immaturity, and live,
and walk in the way of insight."

Reflections: Though God’s Wisdom is deep, it calls to us all, but few of us are simple enough inside to hear and respond. The rest of us are usually so caught up in what St. Paul calls the “wisdom of this world” that we may as well be deaf.

Divine Wisdom does not demand conformity to particular social or legal criteria, earning power, health, or level of education. Instead, it appeals to us in our humility. It asks us—and shows us how—to be truly and simply human. 

Psalm 34:9-14 Benedicam Dominum

Fear the LORD, you that are his saints, * for those who fear him lack nothing.
The young lions lack and suffer hunger, * but those who seek the LORD lack nothing that is good.
Come, children, and listen to me; * I will teach you the fear of the LORD.
Who among you loves life * and desires long life to enjoy prosperity?
Keep your tongue from evil-speaking * and your lips from lying words.
Turn from evil and do good; * seek peace and pursue it.

Epistle: Ephesians 5:15-20

Be careful then how you live, not as unwise people but as wise, making the most of the time, because the days are evil. So do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is. Do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery; but be filled with the Spirit, as you sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs among yourselves, singing and making melody to the Lord in your hearts, giving thanks to God the Father at all times and for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Reflections: To live as a wise person, according to St. Paul, is to live towards God. In his day, apparently, a lot of people wasted their lives in “debauchery.” That may not appeal to most of us today, but you and I have other ways of squandering our lives in foolishness.

          Take cellphones, Facebook, or Twitter, for example. They’re great! But . . . how many times have you noticed people sitting in a restaurant, paying more attention to their screens than to the person sitting with them? And studies show that the experiences (real and fake) that other people post on Facebook can spark resentment and dissatisfaction with our own lives.

          Of course, we don’t need to be plugged in to technology to tune out of our own lives. All sorts of preoccupations, worries, ideologies, and enthusiasms can prevent us from inhabiting the center of our being, the still point in our turning world.

As we know, what makes a rich and rewarding and holy life, is not out there, determined by what we have or think, or whether we measure up. It’s a matter of the unique person God calls us to be right here and now. And it helps if we unplug now and then to listen.

Gospel: John 6:51-58

Jesus said, "I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh."

The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, "How can this man give us his flesh to eat?" So Jesus said to them, "Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever."

Reflections: Dare we ask what it means to “eat the flesh” and “drink the blood” of Christ? On the literal level, these statements are harrowing. Did you know that early Christians were accused of cannibalism? Even today, I know intelligent, thoughtful people who cannot get past this image, and as a consequence can’t bring themselves to set foot in a church.

          For many of us who attend liturgical churches, though, passages such as Jesus’ discourse on the Bread of Life are sacred utterances of a high order. They speak of the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist, however we may understand it. For us, it is an invitation, even an exhortation to receive the sacrament, to open ourselves directly and intimately—in body and spirit—to Christ.

We puny people take in the Body and Blood of Christ to become our own body and blood, and are at the same time taken up into God, body and spirit. How mysterious! How astonishing! How beyond comprehension!

And even so, the Eucharist isn’t a magic pill. It is the doorway to the even larger Mystery of God Incarnate. Let’s just chew on that for a while.

 

11th Sunday after Pentecost, August 9, 2015

Collect for the Day

Grant to us, Lord, we pray, the spirit to think and do always those things that are right, that we, who cannot exist without you, may by you be enabled to live according to your will; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.                                                               

Reflections: A great mystery of human life, that we are utterly dependent on God, and yet are endowed with free will. It would seem that dependence and freedom would be in opposition, cancel each other out. The blessing is this: when our will is freely in line with God’s, we are complete. This wholeness is no one-time achievement, but a glorious unfolding unique to each of us. 

First Reading: First Kings 19:4-8

Elijah went a day's journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a solitary broom tree. He asked that he might die: "It is enough; now, O LORD, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors." Then he lay down under the broom tree and fell asleep. Suddenly an angel touched him and said to him, "Get up and eat." He looked, and there at his head was a cake baked on hot stones, and a jar of water. He ate and drank, and lay down again. The angel of the LORD came a second time, touched him, and said, "Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you." He got up, and ate and drank; then he went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb the mount of God.

Reflections: Elijah has just pulled off the coup of a lifetime: he has humiliated the priests of Baal and Aseroth. He is at the zenith of his career. . . . and yet here he is, on the run and overcome by despair.

Success is risky business; it is easy to stir up feelings of jealousy and resentment (and Elijah’s success was nothing if not ostentatious). But worse, upsetting powerful people can be dangerous business—and Elijah has just upset King Ahab and his ruthless queen, Jezebel. So he may have reached the pinnacle of success, but he’s got good reason to be depressed. He mopes; he moans; he eats and sleeps and moans some more. 

Truth to tell, it doesn’t take something as radical as that to get us into a funk. Any success or high point can send us spiraling down. Once a difficult goal has been achieved, our energy drops, and we are suddenly directionless. If we’ve accomplished something big enough, then we worry that we can never match it, that we’re already becoming a has-been.

          Ultimately, though, Elijah is moved to shake off the ennui, to let the food nourish his spirit as well as his body, and to continue the journey that will take him to the Mountain of God—and to the revelation that awaits him there.

Sometimes we are so paralyzed by anxiety that we can't move at all. We want reassurance that we are going in the right direction. What if we step off the map? 
But is there anywhere we can go from God's presence? Psalm 139 tells us that God is everywhere even before us--awaiting us. Let us trust God to nourish us, to accompany us on our journey wherever that takes us, and most of all to be faithful to the promise of Divine self-revelation that calls us forward.

Psalm 34:1-8 Benedicam Dominum

I will bless the LORD at all times; * his praise shall ever be in my mouth.
I will glory in the LORD; * let the humble hear and rejoice.
Proclaim with me the greatness of the LORD; * let us exalt his Name together.
I sought the LORD, and he answered me * and delivered me out of all my terror.
Look upon him and be radiant, * and let not your faces be ashamed.
I called in my affliction and the LORD heard me * and saved me from all my troubles.
The angel of the LORD encompasses those who fear him, * and he will deliver them.
Taste and see that the LORD is good; * happy are they who trust in him! 

Epistle: Ephesians 4:25-5:2

Putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another. Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for the devil. Thieves must give up stealing; rather let them labor and work honestly with their own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy. Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear.

And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption. Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you. Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.

Reflections: I can imagine a Martian trying to understand Christianity. What is the essence? What does it take to be deeply Christian? He would certainly see a lot of variety. Is it critical to have right beliefs? What about correct ritual? Or good feelings? Acts of discipline and self-denial?

          St. Paul, although a theological genius, is simple and clear. To be a Christian is to live as a Christian—that is, to incarnate Christ in everyday life. And everyday life, it turns out, is the training ground for the soul. 

Gospel: John 6:35, 41-51

Jesus said to the people, "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.

Then the Jews began to complain about him because he said, "I am the bread that came down from heaven." They were saying, "Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, `I have come down from heaven'?"

Jesus answered them, "Do not complain among yourselves. No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me; and I will raise that person up on the last day. It is written in the prophets, `And they shall all be taught by God.' Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me. Not that anyone has seen the Father except the one who is from God; he has seen the Father.

Very truly, I tell you, whoever believes has eternal life. I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh."

Reflections: Although many people read the Bible in one dimension only—the literal meaning—for millennia the Bible has been regularly interpreted on multiple levels. That can be a challenge with many books of the Bible, but the Gospel of John is clearly written to be read on more than one level.

At face value, Jesus speaks about bread (i.e., food), but we can easily see that he is referring to himself as the Eucharist. Full human life is nourished not by food for the body alone, but also for the soul. Even though society (and the health of the economy) insists that we have a right to meet every need and want, we know that stuff doesn’t bring happiness.

In this gospel text, Jesus identifies himself as food for the soul. He nourishes us at the altar. But not there only. Christ comes to us all the time. Usually we're blind to the presence of the Divine. What gets in the way? Most of the time, I we’re just plain distracted. But sometimes, I suspect, it’s the same thing that prevented Jesus’ neighbors from receiving him. 

10th Sunday After Pentecost, August 2, 2015

Collect for the Day

Let your continual mercy, O Lord, cleanse and defend your Church; and, because it cannot continue in safety without your help, protect and govern it always by your goodness; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Reflections: Just like little children who want to do things on their own, we don’t always recognize that we need protection. Sometimes we underestimate difficulties; other times we’re just willfully blind or in denial. God’s protection may not mean we’ll be saved by a miracle, but at the very least it means we haven’t been abandoned to chaos and meaninglessness.

Exodus 16:2-4, 9-15

The whole congregation of the Israelites complained against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness. The Israelites said to them, "If only we had died by the hand of the LORD in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate our fill of bread; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger."

Then the LORD said to Moses, "I am going to rain bread from heaven for you, and each day the people shall go out and gather enough for that day. In that way I will test them, whether they will follow my instruction or not."

Then Moses said to Aaron, "Say to the whole congregation of the Israelites, `Draw near to the LORD, for he has heard your complaining.'" And as Aaron spoke to the whole congregation of the Israelites, they looked toward the wilderness, and the glory of the LORD appeared in the cloud. The LORD spoke to Moses and said, "I have heard the complaining of the Israelites; say to them, `At twilight you shall eat meat, and in the morning you shall have your fill of bread; then you shall know that I am the LORD your God.'"

In the evening quails came up and covered the camp; and in the morning there was a layer of dew around the camp. When the layer of dew lifted, there on the surface of the wilderness was a fine flaky substance, as fine as frost on the ground. When the Israelites saw it, they said to one another, "What is it?" For they did not know what it was. Moses said to them, "It is the bread that the LORD has given you to eat.” 

Reflections: How different is the picture of God in this story from the one in our prayerbook. It’s easy to imagine the Israelites suffering, griping, and grousing, and it must have seemed like forever before God did something about it. If God’s so powerful and loving, why does it sometimes take so long? Why God doesn’t just give us what we need when we need it (or before!).

          Of course I don’t know, but I do know this about myself: Desperation drives me to God. When my need and pain have become so acute that I can’t depend on anything or anybody (especially myself), I rediscover God. Now I’m not saying that God sets up terrible situations to increase my faith. (How abusive would that be?) In fact, I’m not saying anything about God at all. But I am saying something about myself: I am fickle, and as long as I am comfortable and entertained, I am complacent. My soul goes into automatic; I am oblivious of my burning need for God.

          When God finally sends relief to the Israelites, imagine their jubilation, their sense of restoration, healing, blessing! Still, I can’t help but wonder: how long before manna and quail become expected, old hat, boring? How long before the Israelites lose their wonder and adjust to a new status quo. It doesn’t take me all that long. What about you?

Psalm 78:23-29

So he commanded the clouds above * and opened the doors of heaven.
He rained down manna upon them to eat * and gave them grain from heaven.
So mortals ate the bread of angels; * he provided for them food enough.
He caused the east wind to blow in the heavens * and led out the south wind by his might.
He rained down flesh upon them like dust * and winged birds like the sand of the sea.
He let it fall in the midst of their camp * and round about their dwellings.
So they ate and were well filled, * for he gave them what they craved.

Epistle: Ephesians 4:1-16

Therefore I, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all. But each of us was given grace according to the measure of Christ's gift. Therefore it is said,

When he ascended on high he made captivity itself a captive;

                   he gave gifts to his people.

(When it says, "He ascended," what does it mean but that he had also descended into the lower parts of the earth? He who descended is the same one who ascended far above all the heavens, so that he might fill all things.)

The gifts he gave were that some would be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until all of us come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to maturity, to the measure of the full stature of Christ. We must no longer be children, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people's trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming. But speaking the truth in love, we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and knit together by every ligament with which it is equipped, as each part is working properly, promotes the body's growth in building itself up in love.

Reflections: Differences. They’re real. That’s a fact that anybody who’s ever lived in a family discovers again and again. Differences are both exciting and disconcerting. Difference awakens us, stretches and challenges us; on the other hand, it also annoys and angers us.

          At our best, we delight to complement each other. At our worst, your way of being drives me crazy. In the middle, well, we bear with each other—with some degree of grace.

St. Paul would have us believe that God has a purpose for differences, has in fact designed difference into humanity from the start. And what is that purpose for our varied gifts and very real differences? It seems that without the other, each of the others whose gifts (and foibles?) are so different from ours, each of us is incomplete.

So what would holiness look like? Would it blanket and muffle our differences? Or would it make them sparkle like dewdrops in the sunlight?

Gospel: John 6:24-35

The next day, when the people who remained after the feeding of the five thousand saw that neither Jesus nor his disciples were there, they themselves got into the boats and went to Capernaum looking for Jesus.

When they found him on the other side of the sea, they said to him, "Rabbi, when did you come here?" Jesus answered them, "Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For it is on him that God the Father has set his seal." Then they said to him, "What must we do to perform the works of God?" Jesus answered them, "This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent." So they said to him, "What sign are you going to give us then, so that we may see it and believe you? What work are you performing? Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written, `He gave them bread from heaven to eat.'" Then Jesus said to them, "Very truly, I tell you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world." They said to him, "Sir, give us this bread always."

Jesus said to them, "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty." 

Reflections: Jesus knows that the people have followed him because he gives them what they want. He hands out free food! But he also knows something they don’t: it isn’t only their stomachs that were hungry; their true hunger is soul-deep. And food (or clothes, or electronics, or whatever fascinates us at the moment) will never, ever satisfy the soul.

* * * * *

          Mtr Karen told a story about a little boy who habitually came home late for dinner. Everyone waited, and the food got cold . . . night after night. Scolding didn’t help.

Now what do you think would be a good lesson for the little boy? Here’s what the family finally did: One evening, he came home to find everyone already seated, their plates piled high. But at his place there was only a slice of bread and a glass of water. Imagine his dismay!

“How clever,” I thought! “The boy needed to learn that behavior has consequences. I’ll bet he never forgot that lesson!”

Well, he never did forget that lesson, because this is what happened next: The father took the boy’s plate—and gave him his own.

The little boy may have ended up with a full belly, but what really fed him was an act of grace.