God Tapping Us on the Shoulder	8/10/2003	Click to Print
Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time	Father Tim Lemlin
During one of the busiest times at Houston's Hobby Airport, a flight was delayed due to a mechanical problem. Since they needed the gate for another flight, the aircraft was backed away from the gate while the maintenance crew worked on it. The passengers were then told the new gate number, which was some distance away. Everyone moved to the new gate, only to find that a third gate had been designated. After some further shuffling, everyone got on board. As they were settling in, the flight attendant made the standard announcement, "We apologize for the inconvenience of this last-minute gate change. This flight is going to Washington, DC. If your destination is not Washington, DC, then you should 'deplane' at this time." A very confused-looking and red-faced pilot emerged from the cockpit, carrying his bags. "Sorry," he said, "wrong plane." Elijah, in many ways feels much like the pilot in our opening story. He has known the ecstasy of success and the agony of defeat. He has been in hiding because people have sought to take his life and he has been exulted as a great prophet of God. Our first reading today finds him once again fleeing for his life. He is embarrassed and confused. He feels abandoned and alone and simply wants to die. The people in our gospel reading are scandalized by Jesus' statement, "I am the bread of life." We have heard it so often that it no longer causes us to even give it a second thought when, as we approach to receive communion we hear, "Body of Christ. Blood of Christ." We simply say, "Amen," and begin to eat the body of Jesus and drink his blood without much further thought. The early members of the church struggled with eating the body of Jesus and drinking his blood. It was seen as cannibalism. This is also the reaction of the hearers of Jesus in our gospel reading. The people are scandalized that Jesus would even suggest such a thing. Yet, Jesus doesn't back down from his invitation. He goes further by declaring, "…that unless you eat my flesh and drink my blood you will not enter the kingdom." Ironically, it seems that it is only when we are feeling uneasy, embarrassed, confused, and we simply want to die that we are free to become aware of God tapping us on the shoulder to awaken us from our depression - our feeling of being abandoned. We seem then ready to eat and drink and receive life. Four or five years after I was ordained a priest I hit the wall. Being a priest, with all its trappings of getting to wear a uniform recognized by most people, having people demure to me, having authority as a leader in the church, and several others that I no longer remember, was no longer fun. I wasn't happy. I thought for a time that possibly a change of life would bring back the happiness. Then I realized that the lack of happiness was not external, it was internal, and I couldn't fix it. I was helpless, embarrassed and confused. I felt abandoned and alone. I was also vulnerable to God tapping me on the shoulder, awakening me from my stupor, and telling me to eat and drink. It is from Jesus that I draw my identity. It is in Jesus that I draw life. It is God in me that gives me happiness. We eat the body of Jesus and we drink the blood of Jesus. This is meant to give us pause. It is meant to give us the strength to continue the journey. It is meant to help us realize that we are alone and yet we are never alone. It is meant to drive home that God dwells within me; that I come to know God through this body, through these senses, through all these things that we too often considered weak and crass. "I am the living bread," Jesus says today, "whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world."