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.