Sunday Reflection with Fr Robin Gibbons - 12 August 2018

By Sr Genevieve, Bangalore

Nineteenth Sunday of the Year. August 12th 2018 -

"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." (Jn 6:51)

I've just finished seven weeks of directing and teaching on our Oxford Summer Schools. Marvellous occasions where people from all over the world come to live and work together in a collegiate atmosphere in one or other of our Oxford colleges. The last two weeks I've been Pastoral Director, alongside my friend and colleague Canon Angela Tilby as the Academic Director, of the Oxford Theology Summer School, which we hold in ChristChurch. The setting, with excellent tutors and the rhythm of the day, a balance of the Cathedral's liturgical life and the communal gatherings around meals and breaks, structures life in such a way that participants create a community of engaged learning: as one participant put it, 'feeding and being nourished by each other'.

I always end up thinking that this international gathering of people wanting to be enriched by the theology of Christianity is what I would see as a foretaste of the Kingdom of Heaven in its fullness. We really do connect, differences are explored in the compassionate atmosphere of faith, we recognise that difference can be creative, but that Christ binds us together. Strangers that become friends, is my own description of what happens, and I certainly believe that the shared days point to the 'convivium' of that community in heaven where we will be united in the love and vision of God, whom as St Anselm suggests, we now seek by understanding. We certainly shall meet again for we are sisters and brothers in the faith!

How then does this tie up with our scriptures? Feeding and being fed by that living bread is the image that immediately comes to mind. Christ does not simply point to the communal meal of the Eucharist as the only way we receive the life giving bread, his flesh for the life of the world, there are many other ways of being fed, learning, praying, loving, forgiving, and listening for those distinct ways the Lord comes to each of us.

In the story of Elijah in I kings we have a despondent dejected prophet who only wants to be left to die, but an Angel of the Lord forces him to feed to carry on a journey that leads to Mount Horeb where he finds a cave to shelter in. It is then after being fed and pushed to re-energise himself that this theophany happens, one of the most famous in the scriptures:

'Then the LORD said: "Go out and stand on the mountain before the LORD; the LORD will pass by". There was a strong and violent wind rending the mountains and crushing rocks before the LORD-but the LORD was not in the wind; after the wind, an earthquake-but the LORD was not in the earthquake; after the earthquake, fire-but the LORD was not in the fire; after the fire, a light silent sound.'(I Kg 19:11,12)

That great silence only takes place after Elijah has understood that God is not wind, earthquake or fire but encounter in the depths of our being. But this encounter comes at a price, the cost of true discipleship, which is that willingness to change, listen, be aware of the other. Given the news and events in Church and world, we can feel as the psalmist puts it that "A band of evil doers has encircled me" (Ps 22:16) Our world and yes, the Church today is in real need of conversion from top to bottom, for it must become that light again, a light I saw in the two weeks of sharing, where the love, forgiveness and humility of others created a glimpse of the community we really should be, nourished and fed by its Lord!

Lectio Divina

Prayer
Attributed to Irenaeus of Lyons

It is not you that shapes God
it is God that shapes you.
If you are the work of God
await the hand of the artist
who does all things in due season.
Offer Him your heart,
soft and tractable,
and keep the form
in which the artist has fashioned you.
Let your clay be moist,
lest you grow hard
and lose the imprint of his fingers.

Elijah and the prophetic truth of the 'still, small voice'
By Rabbi Jonathan Sachs 2007

Queen Jezebel orders Elijah's arrest. He eventually takes refuge on Mount Horeb, otherwise known as Mount Sinai, where God had revealed himself to the Israelites.

God asks: "What are you doing here, Elijah?" Elijah replies: "I have been very zealous for the Lord God Almighty." God says: "Go and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by." Suddenly there was a whirlwind, "tearing the mountains apart and shattering the rocks". But God was not in the wind. Then came an earthquake, but God was not in the earthquake. Then there was a fire, but God was not in the fire. Then came a "still, small voice". Immediately, Elijah recognised that this was the voice of God.

God then repeated his question, "What are you doing here, Elijah?" Elijah replied in the same words as before. God then told Elijah to appoint Elisha as his successor. Elisha's career was similar to that of Elijah. He spoke the same message. He performed similar miracles. There was only one difference: Elisha was not a zealot.

In effect, God was saying to Elijah: false prophets believe in power. At Mount Carmel you showed that I am a greater power. You defeated idolatry on its own terms. That may be fine for those tempted by idolatry, but that is not who I am. The supreme power cares for the powerless. The creator of life loves life. The voice that summoned the universe into being is still and small, hardly louder than a whisper.

To hear God you have to listen.

Elijah had to learn that zealotry is profoundly dangerous. Jewish tradition went further, holding that Elijah would one day return to earth to herald an age of peace.

God is not in the fire, or the whirlwind, or the earthquake. Zealotry wins the battle but not the war. It creates fear, not love. It risks desecrating the very cause it seeks to sanctify. Faith speaks in an altogether different voice, urging us, in Robert Kennedy's fine phrase, to "tame the savageness of man and make gentle the life of this world".

Religion fails when it seeks to impose truth by force, whatever the truth, whatever the force. Only when it divests itself of earthly power does faith learn to speak the healing truths of heaven. This applies even to the greatest of the prophets, how much more so to their imitators in lesser times.