Sunday, August 5, 2018


A Poem a Sunday
Proper 14B/Ordinary 19B/Pentecost 12
August 12, 2018


St. John 6: 35, 41-51 – NRSV

35 Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.
~~~
41 Then the Jews began to complain about him because he said, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” 42 They were saying, “Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?” 43 Jesus answered them, “Do not complain among yourselves. 44 No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me; and I will raise that person up on the last day. 45 It is written in the prophets, ‘And they shall all be taught by God.’ Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me. 46 Not that anyone has seen the Father except the one who is from God; he has seen the Father. 47 Very truly, I tell you, whoever believes has eternal life. 48 I am the bread of life. 49 Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. 50 This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. 51 I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”

A Poem a Sunday
Pentecost 12 - B

Manna Murmur

“We’ve never done it that way before.”
“That new member dare not have a say!”
“Join the choir right away.”
“We need new members.
We pray you’ll stay.”

Yet, discipleship or taking a stand
for divine justice or being bold
and inclusive to the least and the left
seldom, if ever, brings out the best
of a churchly community
only wanting to survive
and murmurs at the manna
God provides:

- the single mother,
- those who cannot give,
- gay and single straight
who simply yearn for space
to be who they are
without making a case,
- those who doubt
in a world full of hate,

murmur churches
continue to close their gates.

“Take this bread,” Christ cries,
“I am bread for the world.
Get out of my way
as I feed all those
you’ve ignored
or murmured
when they
came knocking
at your church door.”

Copyright 2018 @A Poem a Sunday
May be used with permission

kennstorck@gmail.com


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