a lawless blog

 Twentyfirst Sunday in Ordinary Time B
August 26, 2012

Reading I: Joshua 24:1-2,15-18
Responsorial Psalm: 33
Reading II: Ephesians 5:21-32
Gospel: John 6:60-69

vs. 51 Jesus said to the crowds: "I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world."

... [vs 52-59 are considered here as an editorial insertion, an interlude.]

vs 60-69:  After hearing his teaching many of the followers of Jesus said, 'This is intolerable language. How can  <sup>anyone accept it?'

Jesus was aware that his followers were complaining about it and said, 'Does this upset you? What if you should see the Son of Man ascend to where he was before?"</sup>

^{'It is the spirit that gives life, the flesh has nothing to offer. The words I have spoken to you are spirit and they are life.}

^{'But there are some of you who do not believe.' For Jesus knew from the outset those who did not believe, and who it was that would betray him. He went on, 'This is why I told you that no one could come to me unless the Father allows him.'}

^{After this, many of his disciples left him and stopped going with him.}

^{Then Jesus said to the Twelve, 'What about you, do you want to go away too?' Simon Peter answered, "Lord, who shall we go to? You have the message of eternal life, and we believe; we know that you are the Holy One of God.'  (JB)}

*******************************************************************************************************************

Decision Time

^{"The Argument we had to have" Part III}

^{Parts I and II of this reflection can be found under Sunday Readings for 18th and 19th Sunday Year B.}

After the interlude of vs 51-59, the account takes up again with the crowd experiencing severe shock at the impact of Jesus' words, that he is the bread of life, gift from the Father. Jair continues his reminiscences:

All we could see standing before us was the man from Nazareth. It was shocking to think that he was claiming to be greater than Moses, greater than the prophets, claiming to be the One sent from God. In their wildest dreams  had anyone ever imagined that the Lord might endow a simple carpenter from a place like Nazareth to be the light of the world, to give life to humankind?  Yet this was his claim! My mind was in turmoil. One of the older men in the crowd reached the limit of his patience: 'This is intolerable language,' he burst out angrily. 'How can anyone accept this nonsense?'

A murmur of agreement stirred through the crush of bodies as an earth tremor rumbles through the land. The tide had turned with that outburst, and I was not surprised. If he had even tried to be a leader it might have been different. People were looking for someone to take the reins in the Resistance. True, some had talked about Jesus as a man of vision, saying he might inspire new life into the nation, but now was the time for action. This crowd had been ready to follow him anywhere, but he had disappointed. He didn't take the lead. He refused it, clearing out when they were set to make him king. And here he was again, talking. He was all talk, and the talk got wilder till it sounded crazy. He expected us to believe in him on his own say so. Do something real, Megiddo had demanded. But this Jesus only healed a few sick people here and there. Oh, he had charisma, there was no doubt about that. A magnetic personality. And I had heard more sense from him than from all the rabbis in the synagogues over a lifetime. He did have something. Some air of authority. He did command respect from some whose judgment I respected, and he could hold a crowd as nobody else. But...

These ruminations carried me relentlessly towards the moment of choice. Sooner or later you have to make a decision, to stay - or go. There's a whole world view at stake: is this Jesus the one, the man on whom history turns? Is this the watershed of human evolution? It seemed too simple, too quiet, too ordinary to be that important.

Jesus stood his ground, not exactly defiant, but absolutely uncompromising. 'Does this upset you?' he asked, not naively. There was the ring of steel in his voice, as a coach will challenge his team, warning them to take nothing for granted, or a captain ready his soldiers for battle.

'What if you should see the Son of Man - I can't tell you how much this title he gave himself got on my goat! What was he trying to hide? - What if you should see the Son of Man ascend to where he was before...?' His voice trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished. We were tossed back into the treacherous currents of puzzlement.

Say that again? 'Ascend to where he was - before?' I remember how my mind went numb, something I've seen in groups of would-be christians when the question is finally put to them: Do you believe in Jesus Christ who died for us and is risen from the dead? Crunch time. Do I? 'Risen from the dead?' I don't know. What on earth does it mean? Around me people were turning away. 'Ascend to where he was before? Piffle!,' someone behind me muttered angrily.

Still I stood there, still not satisfied he was a fraud. Ancient memories stirred. People ascending: Abraham ascending a mountain with Isaac; Moses ascending a mountain to face an encounter with the Lord; Elijah whisked away in a fiery chariot. Is the Lord on high? Is this man from Nazareth going to prove what is right by ascending to where he was before - returning to god from whom he says he has come?

There is a great gulf, Abraham said to a man called Lazarus, between me and thee. Who can cross that gulf, except one who has bridged it from the other side? This Jesus gives no quarter to the mob who want a military leader, a political revolutionary, or at least a universal benefactor just to make life better. His 'proofs' are short sharp referrals that sweep us back into the dreamtime of our past, links with heroes famous for being touched by god.

Jesus had one last card to play, and it was another riddle:

'It is the spirit that gives life, the flesh has nothing to offer. The words I have spoken to you are spirit and they are life.'

I'm sure I heard someone groan. Did this resolve anything? Not at first blush anyway. The spirit vs the flesh; mystery vs reality; the heaven beyond vs the world of here and now; the power of Creator God vs humanity's feeble floundering; the promise of other glory vs present progress with tangible results. Words of comfort are an insult compared to a helping hand, a healing touch, a piece of bread, a vigorous social welfare system, making room for displaced refugees.

'But there are some of you,' he went on, turning and looking into the faces of his closest associates. 'Some, even among you, who do not believe.' You had to give it to him, he was no manipulator. He refused to play on the heartstrings of the crowd to win their allegiance. He offered nothing concrete, not even a promise of a better future. Only "life", such as comes from the spirit if you can swallow the "bread of life" by saying Yes to him.

They say he knew from the outset those who did not believe, and who it was that would betray him, so of course he went on, "This is why I told you that no one could come to me unless the Father allows him." There it is again: are we mere pawns manipulated by the gods, chosen or rejected, lost - unless the Father allows us onto the team? These certainly are hard sayings, but I'm not sure you can just shrug them off. I came out of my pondering and looked around. The crowd had gone, drifting away in twos and threes. Benammi was still at my side.

I looked back at Jesus. He was watching the great desertion, not sad, not disappointed, just resolute. He turned again to his little band of twelve closest friends. "What about you, do you want to go away too?" He was not cold, but his attitude had a purity about it, the purity of ice with the sunlight shining through. I felt quite free. There was no intimidation, not even an emotional tug. It was my choice: he made that so clear. I've heard people ask the same question: What about you...? as a way to wrap their tentacles around the young - and all in the name of the Christ. But he used no hooks.

Simon Peter was the spokesman: "Lord", he said. "Who shall we go to? You have the message of eternal life, and we believe; we know that you are the Holy One of God."

His group was already moving towards the town and we fell in with them. I was side by side with Thomas, a man I'd already met, a salty character not inclined to let himself be dragged along by the crowd without having an opinion of his own. I asked him: "What do you think Simon meant with that? Who shall we go to?" "It's clear enough," Thomas said. "Who else is there? You've got to admit the field is hardly packed with Messiah types, not real ones. This man talks sense, he's straight as an arrow, he's pure as gold. He doesn't talk crap. So we follow him, but I wonder what's ahead, that's for sure."

"Yeah," I said. "But this thing about being the Holy One of god: what does that mean."

"I don't know," Thomas replied. "How could I? Nobody can see god, so how would we know what he means if he says he comes from god? The 'Holy One' - could be he's the messiah everybody is waiting for. And if he is a candidate for that title, I reckon he'll do me. Look, he's absolutely free of pretension. He speaks the truth and I expect he will turn out to be as good as his word if push comes to shove. We'll see anyway, aye?"


What then? If I decide I will believe, what exactly is it I am committing myself to? It is more than to acknowledge 'Jesus is Lord', as Paul will express the same idea. It has to be a here and now commitment to something, to a world view, to a program.

I think the context, the framework, the field in which I make a commitment of faith is the field of this modern world, our world. And it is not relevant to say I believe in Jesus of Nazareth as the Messiah. He lived long ago. He has ascended to where he was before, AND he has sent the spirit. My faith is in this that the spirit is at work in our world. I believe, concretely, that the Creator Spirit is still as active as ever. I believe in purpose, progress, goals to be reached. I believe it is worth trying, in spite of the pain of becoming, for we are moving towards some kind of fulfillment. I believe that in Jesus the creator spirit is embodied in this creation. The message he spelled out is for each one of us to dedicate ourselves to the truth as he did.

If the life of Jesus is a river down which we travel, in John 6 we come to is a big bend, and a dangerous one to navigate. In big bend the river is deep and anything that floats or swims to far from the bank will find itself in the grip of a fierce current and sucked into the depth of the whirlpool at the centre. We need to navigate this big bend with care. The heady days of Galilee are over and the river turns towards Jerusalem. The same big bend is found in Matthew's gospel where the current swirls from Peter's 'You are the Christ, the son of the living God,' to Jesus': 'Get behind me satan!'

But today we are not in the same boat as the disciples. We sail in another dimension of time, virtually a world away, and as we plot our course through the big bend we follow different markers on the bank. Our world is long since animated by the spirit. We have made progress to freedom. A whole era has been labeled Enlightenment, introducing a veritable flood of knowledge, though not necessarily proving us more wise than ancient Hebrews or the Greeks. 'To whom shall we go?'





This comment is too long. I'm sorry. It has kept growing and I haven't time now to cut it back. I have just a few minutes to write the epilogue. This morning - the NOW that is the time I live in - I feel that there is no outcome to the struggle with the question: Will you also go away? It cannot be answered by me in the context of that occasion at Caphernaum. I am not there and I cannot identify with the answer the apostles might have given at the stage they had reached mid-way through their journey with Jesus. The question can only be answered in the here and now.

But there is no point in asking: Will I stay with Jesus or will I go - today? Too much fabrication. Do I believe in who Jesus was, and what he said was his mission? Who cares. That was long ago. The gospels tell a partly historical story, taking me back to a religious and civic culture that I simply do not identify with. In the end the gospels are irrelevant. In the book of Acts we read that the spirit was poured out, and it spread like a wildfire that blazes still.

Now the question (and it is essentially the same question) is: Do I believe in the spirit that was released after Jesus ascended to where he was before? Do I believe in this manifestation of god, the source of life, of goodness, of rebirth, of truth and love and justice (hmm?), of life eternal now? To all this I can say an authentic YES, and to hell with the theologies and authorities and variations and divisions. And to hell with the powers of this world that will screw anyone who defies them in their lying cruelty. All this Jerome wrote two weeks ago and it can be read here: http://www.catholica.com.au/forum/index.php?id=110368

Amen Alleluia!

Tony Lawless