Ephesians 4.25 - 5.2, Psalm 130, John 6.35, 41-51
The Eleventh Sunday of Trinity, 11 August 2024,
Austwick, Keasden
‘I am the Bread of Life,’ said Jesus. ‘Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never thirst.’
Today in our communion, we take this very Bread of Life into our lives: into our bodies, our hearts and our spirits.
Why do we come here to receive this Bread of Life, week by week, month by month?
It may be because we have done it all our lives: from our upbringing, it reconnects us to a precious family ritual; or we may now take the Bread because we value it as something that helps to strengthen our community with others, it’s a practice which binds us to our neighbours in love.
At times it will be a deep and personal thing which draws us to hold out our hands to receive this Bread of Life. Bruised by life’s troubles or wearied by life’s demands, we come to the rail hungry for forgiveness, renewal, hope.
We come like the modest and penitent tax-collector came to prayer, whilst the smug and self-important Pharisee watched on. [1]
We come knowing that we are ‘angelic demons’: we try to be good people but we know we’re not quite right; we’re keenly aware that in this hellish world which we inhabit, the demonic so often has its way with us. We sense that we are damaged because we’ve eaten too much of the fruit of the world’s fears and hatreds. But that humbling self-knowledge draws us to reach out again for the Bread of Life, seeking the strength and the guidance to be angelic. [2]
This Bread we take is a sign of how ‘the divine suffuses the physical’. [3] We encounter God through the ordinary stuff of life; we are filled with a sense of how the material world is full of spirit, and of how, by eating this Bread, we are strengthened to live the angelic life, the eternal life, in other words a life of goodness, kindness and love towards others.
‘Out of the depths have I cried to you, O Lord; Lord, hear my voice’ - said the psalmist.
By eating this Bread our ears open to those voices who, ‘out of the depths’, are crying to God today.
We hear those crying out of the depths of fear that their homes and businesses, their places of worship and refuge, will be destroyed by those who wish them harm.
We hear those crying out of the depths of bereavement, pained by their loss, those whose loved ones have been suddenly and violently taken, and those whose loved ones left in timely, gentle fashion surrounded by their loving family.
And we hear those crying out of the depths of trouble, those for whom life has taken a difficult turn, and is presenting challenges which they feel inadequate to overcome.
‘Out of the depths have I cried to you, O Lord; Lord, hear my voice.’
We may have been there ourselves, we may be there right now. Longing for the Bread of Life to save us, to feed and renew us.
As we receive this Bread of Life, so that Bread will draw us in compassion to those others who are crying to be heard today; and as we listen to their cries, so that Bread will nourish our desire to comfort and protect them.
How astonishing to listen to that part of Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, today. After all the hatred and hostility that we’ve heard on our radios and seen on our screens these past days, how contrary, how beautifully contrary this passage sounds.
So then, putting away falsehood, let us speak the truth to our neighbours, for we are members of one another.
Bread of Life, because we belong with them in the family of humankind, when we hear lies being told about our near neighbours, save us from believing them; save us from repeating them.
Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for the devil.
Bread of Life, because we are vulnerable to fear, which makes us susceptible to react and lash out before thinking, help us to make space to explore our feelings of desolation, in search of consolation. [4]
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.
Bread of Life, because we often stumble over our words, and our words then cause others to stumble, teach us speech which reconciles and heals.
Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tender-hearted, 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.
We are ‘angelic demons’: sensing that we are damaged because we’ve eaten too much of the fruit of the world’s fears and hatreds:
We are hungry, we are hungry.
Bread of heaven, feed us. [5]
Notes
[1] Luke 18.9-14.
[2] Timothy Morton, Hell: In Search of a Christian Ecology.
[3] Timothy Morton, Hell: In Search of a Christian Ecology.
[4] Martin Wroe, Quiet Revolutions: A Thought For The Day on BBC Radio 4’s Today. 3 August 2024.
[5] The Late Late Service, ‘Bread of Heaven Feed Me’ from God in the Flesh - Music From The Late Late Service 4, Sticky Music 1994.
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