Be A Wise Loving Diner

“Moses said to YHWH, “But, never in my life have I been a man of eloquence,either before or since you have spoken to your servant.” Ex 4:10

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary, 

Time Year B: Be A Wise Loving Diner

 We live in a world that honours and values information. Yet our 1st reading from the 'First Testament' Proverbs (9:1-6) - speaks of 'wisdom'. I wonder what comes to your mind as you hear the words 'wisdom'. Wisdom is different from the idea of knowledge. Philosophers tell us there are two types of knowledge. Real knowledge refers to experience, and notional knowledge refers to head knowledge. When young children are told not to touch something because it is hot and it will burn them they have notional knowledge. However, if the child disobeys the parent and touches the hot object and experiences a burn then they now have real knowledge or wisdom. Wisdom is when notional knowledge becomes a lived reality. For the young person with burn they are experiencing 'the begetting of wisdom' - hopefully. Wisdom usually refers to a quest for deep knowledge that will bring happiness and contentment in the face of the mystery of life's hardships and complexity.

For the ancient Israelites, wisdom was taught by their sages. These sages gave practical knowledge about daily living applicable to each and all. That was how they and the Bible understood wisdom. Proverbs depicts wisdom as a very active independent female figure. She has built herself a house, she has prepared her table, she has brought forth her wine and invites her guests to a special banquet - a banquet of wisdom. "Come, eat of my bead and drink of my wine!" Wisdom serves practical life-giving knowledge to her guests - the foolish, the ignorant, men and women - and wants to teach them to discern what is the good and right way to live. Wisdom's nurturing banquet is for all people who seek to life

lives pleasing to God.

Last Sunday, in our gospel passage from John (6:41-51) Jesus was presented as the bread come down from heaven. He told his opponents - the complainers - that those drawn by God would be taught by God and then will come to Jesus. This Sunday the gospel discourse continues with a more Eucharistic interpretation. Jesus says he is 'the bread come down from heaven' and, "The bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world." Jesus openly and honestly declares that his flesh is food and his blood is drink for us. In his language "flesh and blood" represents the whole human being. Applied to Jesus the term has several meanings. It refers to his taking on flesh and blood in the Incarnation. It also stirs up images of the sacrificial animals slaughtered and eaten in the Temple. So, Jesus is both a sacrificial victim and our food and drink. Previously the reference to the bread from heaven had to do with believing in Jesus, the one sent by God. Now, in today's section from the 'Bread of Life' discourse, eternal life comes to us by our feeding on Jesus. Those who "feed on me will have life because of me." Feeding on Jesus already gives us a share in eternal life and a promise of fullness of life when we will be raised from the dead on the last day. Jesus shares eternal life with his Father and we who are drawn to Jesus by the Father, get to share in that life because we feed on the him, the bread of life.

 In the sixth chapter of John's gospel, the Eucharist and its effects are explained for us. From the two parts of the 'Bread of Life Discourse' we can say that Christ is present and gives himself to us in a twofold way: in the Word we hear at our celebration and in his presence in the sacrament of the Eucharist. Our church continues this twofold structure of Word and Sacrament in our worship. It is the basic structure of our Mass. Receiving the flesh and blood of Christ is not a magical rite. The discourse directs us to see the life Jesus gives us by both "believing" and "eating" with faith the sacrament. For the Christian who receives the Eucharist Jesus remains in us and we remain in him. The bread and wine don't last forever, but the life we receive in the life-
giving meal is eternal. John told us at the beginning of chapter six that he worked his 'sign' and gave his teaching at the time of Passover. This reminds us that Jesus is our Passover meal and when we eat and drink at the 'Table of the Lord' we are united with his life and death. We don't demand "signs" as his opponents did. We have a sign
enough for our faith in the broken bread and cup poured out for us. 

As we hear in our first reading, that 'wisdom' has spread a table of choice food and drink. We should know that Jesus (God-come-in-the flesh) is the 'wisdom' of God revealed for the healing of the world. It is Jesus 'holy wisdom' himself who call us to 'the holy table of plenty' to dine with him. Our presence at the celebration of the Eucharist is a sign that we have accepted his invitation. We come to Jesus, seeking a wisdom we don't have for ourselves, but need for our daily living. We seek how to be able to be like him in being 'bread broken' and 'wine poured out' for others. Walking the way of unconditional sacrificial love is not natural to us, so we need the power of Christ's wisdom that comes with the gift of himself from the 'table of life'. 

Our Eucharistic meal at the altar-table is not a meal for a few and it is not just about our salvation. It is meant to empower all Christians to go into the world with the life of Christ we have received. What we celebrate at 'the Lord' Table' we are to put into practice. We ask for the gift of wisdom to know how to do that in our specific life circumstances. The Eucharist unites us to Christ and so; through him, with him and in him, holy wisdom is given to us. We go from the table of life and love to feed the hungers of God's holy people.

Fourth Sunday after Pentecost YB- Br. Luke

Homily preached by Br. Luke efo at Springwood on Sunday 21^st June 2015

Andre-Rublev's Saviour

 

Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

Gospel: Mark4:35-41

The English composer Margaret Rizza has set to music these words of David Adam:

Calm me, Lord, as you calmed the storm; still me, Lord, keep me from harm.

Let all the tumult within me cease, enfold me, Lord, in your peace.

Calm me, Lord, as you calmed the storm; still me, Lord, keep me from harm.

Let all the tumult within me cease, Lord, enfold me in your peace.

Words which resonate with today's Gospel reading.  The hauntingly beautiful piece of music personalises for us the essence of wonder and turmoil we can sense in Jesus’ action in the calming of the storm. The disciples were in fear of their lives, and here was Jesus peacefully sleeping in the back of the boat. Now I don’t know about you, but as one who gets horribly seasick, I studiously try to avoid the sea, and even the Manly ferries when the Sydney Harbour looks rough, so the disciples have my sympathy and support in their fear.

When they woke him, Jesus dealt with the storm and then with them.  Mark says the disciples were afraid and we can read the verse as though they were afraid of Jesus. But I think this is too strong. They thought they were going to die and then with simple words Jesus ensures calm, peace and their survival. Of course we are not shocked by this, after all it was with words, his voice, that God created and Jesus is also known to us as the Word Incarnate.

So words are, and have always had, an integral part of our experiences and understanding of our faith and of our God. Yet here is a dramatic depiction of the interaction the creator has with his creation, both nature and human.

In our lives we experience all sorts of storms, tempests and fears. We can feel alone and adrift, while a storm rages around and batters us into some sort of submission. In the midst of this turmoil, we seek a haven, a place where we will be safe and calm. So we can certainly identify with the disciples fears and I think it is this yearning that we recognise in the lyrics I quoted earlier.

Now I have no doubt that we do seek, well maybe when we remember or are really desperate, the calm that Jesus can bring to our storms. But we have to have the very things that Jesus queried in his disciples – trust and faith. Not just platitudes, saying that we have them, but really having them. Knowing with certainty, with an unshakable conviction that Christ will bring calm into our lives. This is something we have to have in our hearts and not in our heads.

We have to know, not think, this knowledge. Now if we are honest with ourselves, we’d have to say we don’t do this all the time. We do it when we remember or are desperate. So our challenge, our task, if you like, is to move this knowledge from our heads into our hearts. I suspect that you are all now saying to yourselves, that’s all very nice brother, but how do we do this? How do we move knowledge from our head to our heart? After all isn’t knowledge a head thing?

My reply is, yes it is, if you think in two dimensions, something we all like doing. However, we have to think outside these dimensions. We have to think in three or even more dimensions. We have to see a depth in knowledge that takes our thoughts from our minds and places them into our hearts. Perhaps the most surprising thing is, that if you pause for a moment, you may realise that this is something we do every time we believe in something that is intangible.

It is not enough to just think that Jesus will calm the storm, we need to know it without thought. We have to have it as an inherent, an integral part of our life and being. Now I agree with you, it is not easy, it is very, very difficult.   To achieve it, we will have to abandon some, if not all of our natural instincts, to deny ourselves, ah now isn't that something we've heard elsewhere in the Gospel? Yet when we achieve this move, and yes we can do it, then we are expressing, we are living, our faith.

Here then is the essence of faith – an inherent, integral, yes an almost innate, heart based knowledge. We commence, continue and develop this movement of knowledge by something we do every day. By communicating both verbally and silently – with words. Yes I'm talking about prayer. It is not, or rather it should not be, any surprise to us that we read again and again that Jesus went off to pray. Or that the multitude of saints and holy people throughout the ages have all had an experience and the discipline of prayer at the centre of their lives.

Maybe then, it will not be as difficult or nearly as impossible as you may have thought.  We can achieve the head to heart knowledge movement. But we have to be diligent, to be committed to the practice of prayer. This is why, that though the centuries religious communities of friars, monks and nuns have had a daily regime of regular, frequent prayers built into the pattern of their lives. They knew, and they still know, that without this practice, we become distracted and that our heart knowledge will slowly start to reverse its movement. It will revert to once again residing in our heads. When that happens our faith weakens and in time it will dissipate.

So dear ones, be of good cheer and have great joy. Be assured that with, or rather through, prayer we can achieve the heart knowledge that Jesus will calm our storms.  Do not doubt that when, as David Adam so eloquently phrased it, we say: “Lord, enfold me in your peace”, Jesus – God, will do so.

Amen.