Praying for hunger: Corpus Christi & the food of God

“Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man
and drink His blood, you do not have life within you.”
--John 6:53

 “Brothers and sisters: The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not
a participation in the blood of Christ?  The bread that we break, is it
not a participation in the body of Christ?  Because the loaf of bread is one,
we, though many, are one body, for we all partake of the one loaf.”
--1 Corinthians 10:16-17

What does it mean to eat the flesh of the Son of Man? What does it mean to participate in the blood of Christ?  What does it mean to hunger after the body of Christ?

Here in the 21st century, as we struggle with all the issues of our day, how do we live out this calling? How do we truly participate in the blessing of His blood? His body? Those are questions that are key to the solemnity of Corpus Christi. We are called on this day to give special attention and adoration to the sacramental presence of Christ in the Holy Eucharist.  And the church has selected these two readings from Corinthians and John's Gospel to help us remember that we are called to participate in the blessing that is the body and blood of Christ.  And so, some churches will have processions and set aside time for adoration of the exposed Eucharist: the body of Christ. It is a call we must not ignore, because it is a call for us to grow not only in our faith but in our hunger for God.

The first reading for today's mass is the one that spoke to me today.  The Old Testament reading  from Deuteronomy. And especially this passage:

“…He therefore let you be afflicted with hunger, and then fed you
with manna, a food unknown to you and your fathers…” (8:3)

In my New Jerusalem Bible, this verse reads:

"He humbled you, He made you feel hunger..."

I think that reading it I was reminded of poor Abram (in Genesis) being called out of his homeland and away from his kinsfolk and lead to a foreign land. Humbled and probably feeling a bit afflicted by God asking so much of him. And, of course we see the same kind of reaction from the Jews wandering in the desert for 40 years, complaining to Moses that He led them out of Egypt (where at least they had food and shelter) only to let them die of hunger in the desert.

  When God leads us away from the familiar and the safe, He leads us into a kind of hungering --and certainly it is  (as far as I can tell) always a humbling experience. God leads us out of our safe space and allows us to be afflicted with hunger, if not for actual food, then for safety and security, for friends and family, for comfort and reassurance.  And God lets us be afflicted by this hunger, not to test us or prove to us He's the boss, but in order that He might feed us with a bread unknown to us and to our parents. 

What is this bread that we do not know? This manna? That is my question?  And how do we get it? I think there is a clue in a famous scene in John’s Gospel.  When the apostles return to find Jesus talking with the Samaritan woman at the well, they offer Him something to eat, but Jesus tells them He has food to eat that they don’t know about.  And when they are puzzled by that, He explains:

“My food is to do the will of the one who sent me, and to complete His work…”
–John 4:34

I wonder if that doesn’t tell us something about Heavenly food, about manna, and also about the importance and the work of prayer. We tend to think about prayer as a way of filling our tank. We go to God in prayer so He can fill our spiritual tank up for the work we have to do, or the world we have to face, etc. etc.  We go to God because we need grace and we have a spiritual longing for the divine.  I certainly don’t deny any of that.  But, I also wonder if the paradox of prayer is that instead of filling us up, the real work of prayer is to empty us out. And that by emptying us it prepares us to be filled by the real food of God’s blessing; the real manna; that food that Jesus is talking about.  We go to prayer not to be filled, but to be emptied, so we can be made hungry for  the will of God, the work of God.  To be made ready for this meal, we have to be humbled, and perhaps a sign of this humility, of the process of being humbled is a growing hunger, a longing for something we cannot achieve on our own; something we cannot even imagine for ourselves: a food unknown to us and to our parents.

Like Abram, lead to a strange land, when we kneel in prayer we are emptied of all our earthly resources, all our powers and glories and achievements; humbled; we are emptied so that God can fill us with grace and make of us a blessing to the world –That is how we participate in the work of God. We pray not to be filled up, but to be emptied, so we can be fed by the work of God.
Want to know what work God has for you? Empty yourself in prayer. Let God afflict you with hunger through prayer. And then let God feed you with the food that Christ spoke of: the Work of God. 

Are you listening, Mr. Sutter?  Put down those chips and that bowl of dip, something better awaits you.

Keep praying

“Be joyful in hope, persevere in hardships; keep praying…”   

--Romans 12:12

Friends, how hard is it to be joyful in hope and to persevere when you are afflicted and experiencing hardships?  When everything seems to be going against you? When your friends have abandoned you? When it feels like even God has abandoned you?

We all experience moments like this, perhaps more than moments –weeks, months, even years some might say.  Where do you turn for hope when your world is falling apart?  When your boss tells you she isn’t happy with your work, or your doctor tells you that chronic pain isn’t just a simple ache? When none of the goals you’ve set seem to ever come true? And the defeats just keep piling up until it all seems hopeless. What’s the point? Who cares? It feels like life is cycling out of control. A downward spiral. Perhaps we feel like we are trapped in our own private Gethsemane. Abandoned by friend and God and the cross looming always over us.

First, we need to find a way to break the cycle of disappointment and hardship.  How do we do that?  The words are right there.  We need to be joyful and recover our hope.  How?  One of the best ways is through prayer.  This isn’t pie in the sky. And it isn’t an overnight solution. Prayer takes resolve and commitment and effort.  We feel broken and abandoned, like Jesus in the Garden.  What does He do? He prays.  And then He prays again.  And in Matthew’s Gospel, He even withdraws and prays a third time.  Keep praying.

Second, we need to find a way to get out of ourselves.  I have been wondering if Sartre didn’t get it all wrong when he said, Hell is other people.  I wonder if the truth isn’t the very opposite for many of us… Hell is being alone with no one else to think about but ourself.  Get outside yourself.  Pray that God will show you someone who needs your help. Maybe all they need is a kind word, a gentle touch, or just a smile. Maybe they need you to bring them a cup of coffee and a doughnut. Maybe they need someone to sit down with them and listen as they open their hearts and unpack their burdens –someone who will help them carry their cross. Be that person. Discover the truth behind Matthew 25:36-40… serve the hungry, the naked, the lonely, the sick… and discover that you truly are serving Christ.

One of the best ways I have found to rediscover joy is visiting the sick in the hospital or bringing food to a homeless man on Gessner.  I sit and talk with Michael and listen to his troubles, listen to his dreams, listen to his reminiscences of life in Pennsylvania when he was a boy.  Sometimes we talk sports. Sometimes he sings to me.  Sometimes we just sit in silence and share a meal.  It always renews me.

Think about this: what is prayer but coming before Christ with our entire being and offering it to Him?  And, according to Matthew’s Gospel, who do we serve when we serve the poor, feed the hungry, care for the sick? Jesus, Himself.  It seems to me that either way we are going to meet the Lord.  And that is probably the best way to renew our hope. And to regain a joyful spirit.  So, dear friends, keep praying! With your entire being, keep praying –body and soul! Keep praying.  With these simple words, Paul is giving us some pretty darned good advice. Keep praying.

Happy Easter! He has risen. He has risen, indeed.

Exulting in hardship

“…let us exult, too, in our afflictions, understanding that hardship develops perseverance, and perseverance develops a tested character, something that gives us hope, and a hope which will not let us down…” --Romans 5:3-4

Ah, this is hard. If you want to be counter-cultural, try this.  Exult in your afflictions –boast of your hardships. Not in the woe is me, self-pitying kind of way, but with a true understanding of their worth. Try it.  Struggling at work? In your marriage? With your faith? Feeling friendless? Ignored? Misunderstood? Oppressed? Overwhelmed by health or financial woes? Do you wake up feeling like Job?  Instead of cursing God and dying… exult in your hardships! Rejoice in your afflictions. Ah… this is hard.

But that seems to be Paul’s advice for building up character and gaining hope –a hope which will not let us down.  And yet, what does he actually mean? Does he mean boasting of every affliction we suffer to our co-workers or spouse or strangers on the bus? Is that how Paul would have us witness to the glory of Christ?  I don’t think so.  I think he intends something else entirely.  I think he means in your heart, in your spirit, in your prayers –exult in your hardships, rejoice in your afflictions. Thank God for the life you have been given –including the hardships.

None of us knows why we are called to bear the crosses we bear.  None of us knows God’s plan or God’s will for our lives. We know God wills only good, and we trust that God is with us, that Christ is with us always “even unto the end of the world” (Mt. 28:20). But the thing that so often troubles us is that our afflictions seem meaningless, at best, and –at worst—almost signs of our distance from God.  We may feel like Job, but we think like his friends: that suffering is a sign of God’s displeasure.  But, what if it is as Paul says here? What if that which feels like suffering to us is in actuality an opportunity for exultation, for rejoicing. Not in a self-pitying or masochistic way, but in a sincere and faith-filled way. What if the challenges God puts in our lives, the difficulties and afflictions are the way our spirit and faith are grown? What if that is how it feels to be stretched and opened up to receive the “love of God poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit” (5:5b). 

I don’t mean to imply that God is “cruel to be kind,” (cf: Hamlet III.4 or Nick Lowe’s 1979 single), but that growing in faith and love and hope might hurt. And, that part of the process of growing in our faith and hope and love is learning to praise God for everything we receive—to rejoice not just in the good, but even in our hardships.  That in praying “Thy will be done…” we don’t actually mean only Thy will that feels comfortable and makes my family life easier.  But, instead we truly pray “Thy will be done…” because Thy will –whatever it is, and however confusing and even frightening it may appear—Thy will is what is always to bless us. I choose to submit to Thy will because I put my trust in that blessing. In You, Oh Lord. Whatever You will for us is –in fact—a blessing, oh Lord. And that is where I plant my hope. That is where I trust it to grow. And I understand that growing pains can be hard to bear, but I will rejoice in those hardships. Because I know that is how I will learn perseverance, and that is how I will be tested, and that is how I will gain hope. And all that is asked of us is a little joy. Rejoice! Open your heart. God is waiting to fill you up.

How can we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?

Friday 26 June 2015

“…the life I live is not my own; Christ is living in me…”  Galatians 2:19

“…I will make you a light to the nations
that my salvation shall reach to the ends of the earth…”  Isaiah 49:6

          Today the US Supreme Court decided in favor of a right to same-sex marriage.  And this decision, whether one approves or disapproves, is a clear signal of our nation’s further move from what was once considered a “Christian nation” toward a more and more secular nation divorced from any spiritual or faith-based influences.  Again, one may approve or disapprove of such a movement; in fact individual Christians, Jews and Muslims, members of all faiths, may sincerely disagree on the importance and societal value of this movement. But, it seems pretty clear that today we no longer live in a “Christian nation.”  And I think, as a Christian we will find very shortly that we are no longer at home in this nation, in our homeland, but instead we are in exile (whether spiritual, political or societal –I don’t know, perhaps all three). 

            Last night (Thursday) in our theology class we were studying the Hebrew prophets (mainly Isaiah and Jeremiah) and our professor offered us a series of passages from Isaiah as an example of the prophet’s style and theology.  When he came to 49:1-6 and introduced it by discussing the scholarly tradition that this passage was probably written by a second writer during the Babylonian captivity and at some point attributed to Isaiah, I became very curious about the image of Israel as a “light to the nations.” I began to wonder why would this image come to mind while a people is in exile?  Why a light to the nations and not just the Jews? Why that transition would occur in exile –during captivity.

            The professor emphasized the change in theology implied by the image, from we are the chosen people to we are a light to the nations, that all people may come to God; He’s not just for the Jews anymore.

   And I still wondered why they would come to this idea in exile? And then he went on to elaborate that some think that it was possibly in exile (in captivity) that the Jews actually gained their identity.

   And still I wondered why this change in teaching and why during captivity?

   Then I began to wonder: is it because of the captivity, because in captivity, in exile, in defeat they had to grapple with: Why? Why did this happen to us? To God’s chosen people and why would a good and loving God who made a covenant with us let this happen to us? This seems terrible! Horrible! Evil! But then someone (Isaiah or Duetero-Isaiah) had the flash of inspiration OR the Holy Spirit inspired him (or his redactors) to see that if God is good and God is love or loves us in a special covenantal way then there must be some good in this; some good in the exile and captivity and defeat and destruction of the temple, etc etc.  And not just some good (i.e. –we might as well look on the bright side) but…If we are God’s people and He loves us and this happened to us there must be a good in this that we can’t or don’t see, there must be a good intended by this that we can’t see—and that good, Isaiah somehow realized, was to become the “light to the nations…”

  The Jews were to become “…so marred…beyond human semblance…despised and rejected… a [people] of suffering and acquainted  with infirmities…” (52:13-53:3) not as a sign that God rejected them or was punishing them but as a sign to the world, a light to the nations.  Dispersed so that they could finally discover what it was God really wanted of them: a home –not in a temple—but within them, within each one of them, within the “lowly and afflicted…” (66:2) and that they could in their suffering (and perhaps only through their suffering) become truly a light to the world –a lamp not hidden behind temple walls or hidden in a bushel, but put where it can be seen –every day by any and every one. They were to become truly chosen people, but it didn’t look like what anyone expected. With no temple save their own humble and contrite hearts, they were each and every one being called to become the dwelling place of the Lord.   The land was finally truly theirs –the Holy Land was finally theirs and the covenant complete –because the Holy Land was right beneath their feet always and everywhere, wherever they stood all they could do was go from one piece of Holy ground to the next.

  And so we Christians now, (once again?), are being called to go through the refining fire of exile and captivity, that we too may finally become (once again?) truly a light to the world.  And it seems to me that our light will glow through the way we live our exile; how we live this exile will determine how bright our light glows because the glow will in fact be not ours, but a reflection of God’s love dwelling in us—and the love we reflect to the world will be reflected not in acts of confrontation and political activism, but in the love we show, the love we feel for the world, the love we will toward the world. 

  Do we act with love and compassion when we meet difficulties and feel oppressed? Or do we meet these moments with clenched teeth and forced smiles –pretended tenderness?  If so, then we won’t reflect much of God’s love. But if we meet our exile with gentleness, with sincere and tender compassion; if we are open and vulnerable and willing to embrace even our oppressors, then we will reflect God’s love more brightly and maybe through us, through our exile we will become a light that shines His glory to all the nations –drawing people to Him.  We shall see.  It won’t be easy; for many this exile in our own land will be terribly hard and bitter, as if they are being led out of Jerusalem through a hole in the wall, bound and chained, a hook through their lip, dragged away to see their home no more.  The world will never again be the same, they fear... I too suspect that the world will never again be the same, not in my lifetime… But I'm not sad about that. I know God is good, therefore out of this sea change, this fearful exile, good is coming…somehow, someday, someway…

and I know this, because the life we live now is not our own… therefore when people ask me how I think we should react to this national transformation, I can only say: do not be afraid, He is with you always. Let go of your need to prove anything, let go of your need to be right,  speak the truth with humility and compassion and be vulnerable; you may be a stranger living in a strange land, but don't be afraid --let God make of you a light for the nations, a light that will reach to the ends of the earth.