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.