Monday, August 20, 2018


A Poem a Sunday
Proper 16B/Ordinary 21B/Pentecost 14
August 26, 2018


St. John 6:56-69 - NRSV

56 Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. 57 Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me. 58 This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever.” 59 He said these things while he was teaching in the synagogue at Capernaum.

The Words of Eternal Life

60 When many of his disciples heard it, they said, “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?” 61 But Jesus, being aware that his disciples were complaining about it, said to them, “Does this offend you? 62 Then what if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before? 63 It is the spirit that gives life; the flesh is useless. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life. 64 But among you there are some who do not believe.” For Jesus knew from the first who were the ones that did not believe, and who was the one that would betray him. 65 And he said, “For this reason I have told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted by the Father.”

66 Because of this many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him. 67 So Jesus asked the twelve, “Do you also wish to go away?” 68 Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. 69 We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”[a]
Footnotes:
  1. John 6:69 Other ancient authorities read the Christ, the Son of the living God
A Poem a Sunday
Pentecost 14 - B
Overs

“Over the river and through the bend
to Grandmother’s house we go.

“It is not over ‘til the fat lady sings.”

“Stop, and think it over.”

~~~

“Jesus, it is over – too much.
This teaching is too difficult.
Who can accept it?

You’ve gone too far.
We’re ready to leave.
The price is too high.
Please, do it over.

We love our buildings
more than you.
Our edifices in your
honor abound.
But you are not
to be found and
we are scared
of your deeper call
to let go, unbound
and follow you.

It is over!
~~~
But then, Lord,
to whom shall we go
in this tragic world?

So, in the midst of our doubt
we are about
to stop
and think it over.”

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