A
Poem a Sunday
Proper
16B/Ordinary 21B/Pentecost 14
August 26, 2018
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:
- 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
kennstorck@gmail.com
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