Sunday, August 26, 2012

Does This Shock You?

21st SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME

Josh 24, 1-2, 15-18 / Eph 5, 2a,25-32 / John 6, 60-69

School is starting up, so we know the summer holiday is coming to an end.  And with today’s gospel we have come to the end of a month-long reflection on the sixth chapter of John’s gospel.  Now Jesus wants a response from us – a decision.  It’s much like what we heard in the first reading when Joshua puts it to the people: “Decide today whom you will serve!”  Like them – we have a decision to make.

In the gospel Jesus’ call for decision meets with strong resistance – from people who think themselves his disciples.  They say: “What you say to us, Jesus, is hard to accept.  But Jesus doesn’t relent.  He pushes the question: “Does what I have said shock you?”  But why should they be shocked?  Why should we be shocked?  What shocking thing is Jesus saying?

Many take Jesus’ words about himself as the Bread of Life in a very physical sense.  So the shock comes in Jesus telling us to actually eat his body.  “Take and eat!”  Yet in the gospel of John Jesus warns us about such an overly fleshy reading of his words.  He says: “It is the spirit that gives life, while flesh of itself is of no avail.  The words I have spoken to you are Spirit and life.”

Jesus is telling us: what we are to take and eat is his own Spirit and life.  When we take into ourselves Jesus’ Spirit and life – feed on Jesus’ way and values – his vision and style of life – then Jesus really is becoming our Bread of Life – the Bread for our Living.

We cannot talk about Eucharist without talking about change and transformation.  We talk about bread and wine being changed into Jesus’ real presence among us.  That is deeply true.  But we dare not put limits to God’s work.  God’s work of transformation has not only to do with bread and wine.  It has everything to do with us.  As we make Jesus our real Bread of Life by taking on his Spirit and life, then we are changed.  We are transformed.

We will experience our own transformation.  We will find ourselves living more self-forgetfully and loving more generously.  We will be shocked to recognize Jesus in who we are becoming.  We will be shocked to recognize in ourselves the Living Lord, the Risen Lord.

Jesus’ words change things.  “This is my body” changes bread and wine – changes us into “Body of Christ”.  And the words change the neighbor – fellow parishioner, fellow citizen – into “Body of Christ”.  But also the neighbor from afar – the refugee, the immigrant, the illegal – “Body of Christ”.  And the unacknowledged neighbor – the un-allowed, unwelcome neighbor:  the people kept on the margins of our society and our church – “Body of Christ”.  And finally the always unrecognized, unmentioned neighbor:  the enemy – whomever we fear or been told we should fear – “Body of Christ”.

Does what Jesus says shock us?  I think our shock shows we have understood what he is saying to us.

We have a phrase: “being a practicing Catholic”.  Jesus is telling us:  being a good, practicing Catholic requires we approach ourselves and the neighbor – the neighbor of every kind and degree – with the same reverence with which we come to the altar to receive Jesus’ Body and Blood.

Let our communion here in church this morning ready us for our communion in the streets tomorrow.
Fr. Pat Earl, SJ
 

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Becoming What We Eat

20th SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME

Pr 9, 1-6 / Eph 5, 15-20 / John6, 51-58

For four Sundays straight we have been reflecting on the sixth chapter of John’s gospel.  Today’s reading really amounts to the centerpiece of the chapter.  Here Jesus says: I am the living bread… whoever eats this bread will live forever… will have eternal life.  What Jesus is saying here anticipates what he will say and do at the Last Supper.  And it also anticipates what we will say and do at this Eucharist today.  Take and eat – my body.  Take and drink – my blood.  He could not be more clear or graphic.  Eat!  Drink!  Basic things.  What is Jesus saying to us?  What does he want for us?

Eating and drinking involve tasting and taking in.  They require chewing, swallowing, digesting.  Jesus is saying to us:  you take me in by taking into yourself my way of life, my lifestyle, my values.  And when you have chewed on my ways and digested my values, then eventually you will assimilate my vision of life – my understanding of what it means to be a human being.  And that’s when I become truly your bread of life – the bread for your living.  Elsewhere in John’s gospel Jesus says the very same thing but puts it this way:  I become your way, your truth and your life.

So what happens here at our Sunday Eucharist?  What are we doing here?  What happens is that we are fed the bread for our living in the word of God proclaimed and preached and in the sacramental signs of bread and wine.  Through these we have communion with the “Lord of our lives”.  And we make our commitment to let him become our way, our truth and our life in the journey ahead of us.

But – and this is a crucially important “but” – it’s what happens after our Sunday Eucharist that is the main event in our lives.  The main event is our daily lives – our real lives!  It’s on that journey that we really digest the bread of life.  It’s on that daily journey that Jesus really becomes our way, our truth and our life.
 
An example.  We say to one another here in church at the Eucharist: “the peace of Christ”.  What we say must become what we do for one another and for our world.  Our world is so easily fascinated by conflict, so easily convinced of the value of violent actions and words.  Our world, and yes, at times our church – seem so ready to reply with power’s answer – not love’s.  Power seeks its own advantage.  Love gives itself away.  To this world and this church we must bring and nurture Jesus’ peace, Jesus’ Shalom.  Our holiness must happen in the streets.  There is where Jesus will detox our unpeaceful imaginations and set us free from our self-absorbed dream of a loveless lifestyle.

We will know ourselves detoxed – know ourselves saved – know ourselves feeding on the bread of life – when we begin to sense from within us an honest joy in our making decisions that are love-giving – for others – decisions that are life-giving – for others.  Then, like Jesus, we will be living for the life of the world.  And therein will be our joy.
Fr. Pat Earl, SJ

Monday, August 6, 2012

Getting on with the Summer Picnic

18th SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME
Ex 16, 2-4, 12-15 / Eph 4, 17,20-24 / John 6, 24-35
Last Sunday we began a picnic – a picnic in Galilee with Jesus as our host.  On this picnic we will be hearing the good news from the sixth chapter of the Gospel of John.  In fact we will be hearing from that same chapter through to the last Sunday in August.  That’s five consecutive Sundays with the same chapter!  The sixth chapter begins with the story of the multiplication of loaves – which we heard last Sunday.  And then John moves us into a profound and prolonged reflection on the Eucharist and on Jesus as the Bread of Life – the Bread of our lives.  We are beginning that reflection today.

The whole thrust of this chapter – and really the thrust of the whole gospel of John – is to help us become aware of God’s presence – God’s closeness – in our lives.  Jesus will use signs to help us become aware.  For any Jew – for Jesus – as well as for John, the author of the gospel – a sign is any word or gesture – any concrete thing that helps us become aware of God’s transforming presence in my life.  For Jesus – we always become of aware of God as the God who is changing us – the God who is renewing, reshaping, recreating us.

When Jesus says in today’s gospel:  I am the bread of life. – he is using sign-language to bring us to awareness of God’s presence to us.  He is making himself the sign – the concrete reality that points to God’s presence.  What does the sign say?  What is Jesus saying to us?

I am the bread of life.  The image he is using is food, and we eat food.  Eating is tasting and taking in; it’s digesting and assimilating.  When we eat something, then what had been outside of us, other than us becomes part of us.  We become what we eat, the saying goes.  Just so, Jesus is telling us this:  you take me in – you consume me – and you will know God’s transforming presence in your life.  You take me in – you feed on me – by tasting and taking into yourself my way – my values – my teaching – my style of life.  Live, as I live!  Love, as I love!  When my values – my vision of life actually become your own, then I become truly the bread of life for you – then I become living bread for you.

At this Eucharist Jesus continues to say to us:  when you have tasted, digested and assimilated me as your bread of life – your living bread, then you will experience God.  But how does that really happen – experiencing God?  You will experience God as changing your love – changing your affections.  We will find ourselves becoming less self-concerned and more self-forgetful – less self-promoting and more large-hearted, more open-handed.  And we will experience growing within us a magnanimity – a grand and generous spirit – that will make us friend and soul-mate to Jesus.  Gratefully, we will recognize Jesus in who we are becoming.  We will recognize the living Lord in ourselves.

And then – then we will be empowered – empowered to let go of being the center of our own lives.  We will be free with the freedom God wants and works for us.

On July 31st, we celebrated the feast of St. Ignatius of Loyola, the founder of the Society of Jesus, the Jesuits.  I’d like to conclude these thoughts on Jesus as our bread of life by sharing with you some reflections from Karl Rahner, a famous German Jesuit theologian.  Once he was asked why any sensible modern man like himself would think to remain or become a Jesuit?  His reply was quite simply that he found among his Jesuit brothers the living spirit of Jesus.  But listen to how he describes how that living spirit is concretely lived.  Listen to his words.
“I think of Jesuit brothers whom I myself have known.  I think of one who in a village in India that is unknown to Indian intellectuals helps poor people to dig their wells.  I think of one who for long hours in the confessional listens to the pain and torment of unimportant people who are far more complex than they appear on the surface.  I think of one who is beaten by police along with his students without the satisfaction of even being a revolutionary.  I think of my Jesuit brother who in his prison ministry must proclaim over and over again the message of the Gospel with never a token of gratitude, who is more appreciated for the handout of cigarettes than for the words of the Good News he brings.  I think of the one who with difficulty and without any clear evidence of success plods away at the task of awakening in just a few people a small spark of faith, of hope and of charity.”


I think Rahner is describing for us the concrete shape our freedom will take on when we let Jesus empower us with his love and his life – when we let Jesus become our living Lord, our Bread of Life.  Then with Jesus we will say to our world:  Take and eat, my life for you.  Take and drink in, my love for you.

 Fr. Pat Earl, SJ

Friday, August 3, 2012

On Picnics & Signs

17th SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME

2Kgs 4, 42-44 / Eph 4, 1-6 / John6, 1-15 

How about going on a picnic?  With today’s gospel reading from John, the Church is inviting us to begin a kind of summer picnic.  The picnic will be in Galilee and our host will be Jesus.  Till the fourth Sunday of August [August 26] – for five consecutive Sundays – we will be hearing the good news from one, single chapter of John’s gospel – the sixth chapter.  The chapter begins with the multiplication of loaves – what we have just heard.  John then uses the story to introduce a profound and extended reflection on the Eucharist and on Jesus as the Bread of Life.

We’re going to be hearing lots of food imagery on the picnic.  Food, in fact, is the most common of all biblical images.  God’s goodness is described as a feast, God’s displeasure as a famine and our penitence as a fasting.  Israel is described in the Bible not as some picturesque spot but as a land flowing with milk and honey.  Jesus was born in Bethlehem which translated means “house of bread” [beit-le-hem].  And Jesus calls on us as disciples to be salt – giving flavor to the food of life.  So the Scriptures and the food network share much.

Since we’re going to be on this picnic for some time, I think it would be good for us to adjust some of our expectations.  For example, it would be wrong to expect Chippendale chairs and fine china on a picnic.  On picnics we sit on the ground and make due with paper plates.  In just the same way it would be good for us to get to know the thought and language John will use in chapter six.  Then we will be able to hear with better understanding and will come to have the right expectations.  We won’t be expecting Chippendale chairs when Jesus is inviting us to sit on the grass.

A critically important idea throughout John’s gospel, and especially in the sixth chapter, is the word sign.  John tells us the crowds are following Jesus because of the signs he is performing.  The multiplication of loaves is described by John as a sign.  So we need to understand what a sign is if we’re going to understand what Jesus is doing in the multiplication of loaves.

What’s a sign?  For the Jews, as for John, a sign is any sensible reality – something concrete – which makes present to me a transforming experience of God’s presence.  Through the sign God’s real presence becomes accessible, available to me – in the change, in the transformation I experience myself undergoing.  I come to experience/know God as the God-who-is-changing/transforming-me.  And I come to experience/know myself as where God is actively at work.

Through concrete things like bread and wine, like spoken words and body gestures – God becomes present to me as actually reshaping me, renewing me, recreating me.  And that is what miracle means in the Bible.  Miracle literally means “to bring to wonder and awe.”  A miracle happens when we experience wonder and awe at God’s powerful, transforming presence in life – in my life and in the lives of others.

It’s very important to emphasize that miracle is not magic.  I say very important in order to understand the gospel of John but also very important in order to understand what we do here at Eucharist every Sunday.  Magic affects the surface of things.  Miracle transforms what is innermost.  Magic entertains – is cheap entertainment – and costs us nothing.  We watch and are amused.  Miracle engages us – is costly engagement – and costs us dearly.  We take part and are changed.  Unless it costs, it isn’t a miracle.  In sign and miracle I encounter the intimate yet insistently challenging presence of the Living God.

So on the picnic in Galilee over the next weeks look for the signs and ask yourself some questions.  For example, in today’s reading the multiplication of loaves is worked by Jesus as a sign – but how?  How is it a sign?  We are not dealing with magic but with a miracle.  So how is God encountered in the sign – in the miracle of the multiplication of loaves?  Where is God’s challenging presence in my life?  What interior transformation is being brought about within me?  Remember the beginning of our transformation is becoming aware of our need for it.

Many questions – but the answers can come only from us and from our lives – not from any homily or catechism.  The answers come from our own deep-down living.

During these next weeks let Jesus earn his reputation as a “miracle-worker”.  Let this become our expectation:  how is Jesus bringing us to wonder and awe in our own lives?

Fr. Pat Earl, SJ