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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