Thirteenth Sunday of Pentecost, August 18, 2024 (Proper 15): 1 Kings 2:10-12; 3:3-14; Psalm 111; Ephesians 5:15-20; John 6:51-58
After all the adventures, David has died, and is succeeded by his son Solomon, the second child Bathsheba bore him. Solomon is very pious, and goes to the high places to sacrifice to the Lord. When he went to Gibeon, the “principal high place”, he had a dream. God asked what he should give him. Solomon recounts his fathers long and good leadership, but says he is “only a little child”. He asks for an understanding mind.
Those of us who grew up on fairy tales know that those offers-“I’ll give you your wish”-are often tricks. But Solomon has aced the test, asking for something that will serve others more than him. The Lord promises that he will have “a wise and discerning mind; no one like you has been before you and no one like you shall arise after you.” But, Solomon gets extra, the promise of riches and honor throughout his life. We speak even today of “the wisdom of Solomon”: this is how he is remembered.
Paul also asks his readers in Ephesus to distinguish between wisdom and foolishness. But in a surprising move, Paul contrasts the foolish way of drinking wine (debauchery) with singing: psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs. To do this is to give thanks to God. I quite like the idea that singing in community is born of wisdom.
Our first two readings focus on wisdom, being focused on both God and the good of those around you. The Gospel takes us to mystery: Jesus tells his audience that he is “living bread”, and those who eat it will live forever. When there are questions, Jesus doubles down: he tells his listeners that “unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.” He repeats this with slightly different words. And then he says, “This is the bread that comes down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live for ever.”
You cannot blame Jesus’ listeners for their questions. What does “living bread” mean? And honestly, the whole idea of eating someone’s body and drinking their blood is not very attractive, aside from being counter to Jewish dietary rules. We live in different planes: we need the literal bread, but we also need to be fed spiritually. But his words point to mystery, the central mystery of the Eucharist. That has, after all, been the subject of debate for centuries.
I struggle a great deal with the apparent exclusiveness of Jesus’ promise: I know many people doing God’s work in this world who would not say they do it in Jesus name. I read Jesus’ promise of life to be about being spiritually alive: being open to the goodness of God’s creation, to give thanks for it, and to engage with it in a spirit of compassion and kindness. This is not a flat experience: there are good days and bad days, periods of time when joy and thanksgiving are a long way away. Some days we just put one foot in front of the other. But if we are spiritually alive, even in those times, we still try to live with compassion and kindness, and we seek to connect to the goodness of creation.
I am just as confused by Jesus’ words today as were those who listened to him 2000 years ago. They are a mystery. But we might follow Solomon and hope for wisdom. Or we can take Paul’s advice, and take pleasure in singing. In doing those things, we keep ourselves spiritually alive. Wisdom may not solve a mystery, but it can help us live with it.