More on the Bread? Enough Already!

I would have loved to have been on the Vatican committee that chose which Scripture readings would be used each week at Mass.  Vatican II took giant leaps forward by incorporating more of sacred Scripture in the Mass. My goodness, I would have loved a chance to be part of that.  Call me vain or immodest, but I think I could have been a strong contributor in choosing which gospels passages should be incorporated in the lectionary and which left behind.  And it would have been wicked fun to choose just the right first and second readings to go along with them.  I love me a good theme. And the “bread” theme we’ve seen in recent gospel readings might have been the most fun to play with.

John 6 is known as the “Bread of Life” discourse, so for the third week in a row now, the gospel reading has been about bread.  Two weeks ago, we heard about Jesus feeding the multitudes with just 5 loaves and 2 fishes.  Last week, we heard him explain, “Sure, I filled your bellies last week, but there’s another, far more profound way I can give you the nourishment you need.”  Then this week, Jesus does what every good teacher does. He takes time to review the main points.  “Really, folks, I mean it.  I am the bread of life.”

Best Laid Plans

So, I started writing this post intending to say, “See last week.”  Period.  But today’s first and second readings make today’s gospel worthy of further comment despite it’s content – bread again?

In the first reading, the prophet Elijah has been running for his life.  Why?  Read the first book of Kings for all the salacious details.  No spoilers here.  But suffice it to say, Elijah was done.  He was tired and hungry and at the end of his rope, so he prays for death and falls asleep.  An angel appears with food and drink and must prompt him twice to consume enough to sustain himself.  But afterwards, he is fortified enough to continue his long, arduous journey. 

Clearly, John’s gospel seeks to align Jesus who feeds the hungry masses with the God who fed Elijah.  And the line of succession isn’t hard to discern.  The God of Abraham, Moses, Elijah – and Jesus too – fills our emptiness, quenches our thirst, satiates our hunger.

Hold the Phone

But darned if there isn’t a clever twist with the second reading.   Seemingly apropos of nothing related to food or hunger, this passage gives a short Cliff Notes version of Jesus’ teachings. “All bitterness, fury, anger, shouting, and reviling must be removed from you, along with all malice.  And be kind to one another, compassionate, forgiving one another as God has forgiven you in Christ” (Ephesians 4: 31-32).  Granted, it lacks the poetry of the Beatitudes, but as an efficient shorthand, it works. 

The juxtaposition of this third “bread of life” gospel passage with the story of Elijah’s sustenance and the shorthand “just love each other, gosh darn it” message of Jesus suggests something more, something beyond last week’s message.  Therefore, a “See last week” post today will not suffice.

I think Jesus was a pragmatist.  I don’t think what he taught – about love, peace, justice, mercy – was a prescription for some distant, life-after-death reward for conscientious rule-following.  At least, not just that if at all. I think it was his best advice on how to have a full and meaningful life right now.   And if we have a full and meaningful life right now, won’t after-death stuff take care of itself? I tend to think it will.

This Sunday’s readings send a clear message.  If we feed on – truly take into ourselves – what Jesus taught us about love, peace, justice, and mercy, we will have life in all its fullness.  “I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly” (John 10: 10).  It’s kind of like a spiritual Hierarchy of Needs.  Psychologist Abraham Maslow said that a person must have basic physiological needs met, like food and shelter, before that person can fulfill his or her higher-order needs, like belonging and self-actualization.  I have come to believe that by feeding on what Jesus taught us, we become open to a greater sense of belonging and a downright transformative understanding of ourselves and the world around us.

The Real Deal

Sign me up.  And sign me up for the next time the lectionary is revised and the arrangement of readings are changed.  To be part of the process that selects which Scripture passages should be aligned with each other would be a bucket-list adventure for me.  Sadly, it’s one for which I will never be invited to RSVP.

But that’s okay.  I will RSVP to the invitation in today’s readings.  Find a full, meaningful, rewarding life by simply doing what Jesus said to do.  It’s not easy . . . but it is simple.  Sign me up.