Year B Proper 15 John 6:51-58

This week, the Pastor was invited to do a service at an Episcopal Church. The sermon reflects this, but still contains interesting information about the different ways different branches of Christendom view the service of Holy Communion.

Jesus said, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”

When I was young there was a television show that was extremely popular called “The Twilight Zone”. It had appropriately creepy theme music, and it used what were, for the time, rather good special effects and makeup. The plots were all about fictional unexplained hauntings and eerie phenomena. Today on cable we can find numerous shows about haunted houses and locations, and about unexplained phenomena. We can watch spellbound as someone stumbles through the dark trying to track down a distant sound or light source. People are drawn to the unexplained. It fascinates us.

When most of us were young, we were taught that the Holy Communion service, Lord’s Supper, Liturgy, Eucharist, Mass, whichever name you use, was mysterious, something our young minds may have equated with the twilight zone, only better lit, because, after all, heavenly things are not about the dark, but about light and joy. Magical thinking in regard to the Sacrament of Holy Communion is nothing new. Sources suggest the words “hocus pocus”, used by magicians, are a corruption of the words for the blessing of the bread in the Latin Rite. But the Sacrament of Communion is not magic.

Today’s Gospel lesson lays out what Jesus said, the foundation of what we believe about the Eucharist. If you listened closely, you realize His words are both mysterious and controversial, and like any mystery, they have for centuries been the basis of arguments and disagreements.

Jesus said, “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.”

These words have been at the center of theological debate for millennia.

Today, and for centuries, Roman Catholic doctrine has held that at the words of consecration, “This is my body” and “This is my blood”, the bread and wine cease to exist as such and become the actual Body and Blood of our Lord, while, in deference to human sensibilities, only keeping the outward appearance and taste of bread and wine. This is called transubstantiation.

With the Protestant reformation, argument began over what happens at this pivotal moment in the Communion service, and escalated until 1529 when two learned men came to loggerheads. They were Ulrich Zwingli and Martin Luther.

Zwingli and his colleagues argued that the bread and wine only “signify” or “represent” Jesus’ body and blood, which, they argued, were not capable of being at the right hand of God the Father in heaven and in bread and wine on the altar at the same time. Because for Zwingli revelation cannot contradict reason, he made his argument for the bread “representing” Jesus’ body from passages of Scripture other than those directly connected to Jesus’ institution of the Lord’s Supper, especially in John 6, which we read this morning. Zwingli’s belief continues today in many Protestant churches, and is known as Memorialism.

Luther and his colleagues, on the other hand, argued that the words of Jesus, with which He instituted the Lord’s Supper, clearly teach that the bread, received into the mouth of those who eat it, is—not signifies, nor represents— is the body of Christ. For Luther, Christ’s words must stand as they are revealed to us in Holy Scripture. “Is” cannot be turned into something else. This is the doctrine of the Real Presence.

And where do we Episcopalians figure in all this? Cranmer, he who in 1549 wrote the first Book of Common Prayer on which our American Prayer Book today is based, agreed with Martin Luther. We believe in the Real Presence and in the doctrine of consubstantiation, the belief that the substance of the bread and wine coexists with the Body and Blood of Christ in the Eucharist.

What does all this mean for ordinary people like us? It is a challenging image our Lord presents, Himself as the sacrifice. At my wedding, years ago, one friend declined to receive communion because they thought the very idea of Jesus’ flesh and blood was “gross”. Certainly there were those among the early Jews who, hearing what Jesus had to say, decided they had chosen to follow the wrong rabbi, and left the group. For those of us today not leaving the church quietly by the back door, Jesus presents us with a sacramental mystery that should call forth from us the utmost awe and respect.

When I was young, there was a reverence about the Sunday Eucharist which began hours before the service. There were traditions. For one, unless for reasons of age or illness we had received a dispensation, we never ate anything before we received communion. Today, in the Episcopal Church, it is still strongly suggested we not eat anything for two hours and not drink anything for one hour before receiving communion.

Back in the old days, once we arrived in church, fifteen minutes before the service the candles were lit, and everyone became silent, reflecting on the mystery that was about to occur at the altar. And, on a lesser note, back in those days we came to church dressed in our “Sunday best”! A friend recently asked me if kids today even know what “Sunday best” means.

But, we say, all that just sounds so out of date. Of course, when I was young, people also practiced good manners, consideration, and a kindness we don’t see much of any more. We need to remember, some things, technology, fashion, become outdated, but, like good manners, the reverence and humility embodied in fasting and silent prayer before communion may have gone out of practice, but they have not gone out of date. We need to be aware of the unfathomable mystery, the depthless sanctity and holiness of communion, and to prepare prayerfully to receive the Sacrament with reverence.

What has occurred in our worship, as in our society, is a disconnect from what really matters. Everyone will agree that on some level we seem to have lost touch with basic values. But then we wonder what we can do to correct this situation. How do we get ourselves to change our normal patterns? How can we push ourselves into the attitudes and practices that seem so old fashioned and yet are pleasing to God?

The answer is so simple it often comes as a surprise. Through force of will we cannot pummel ourselves into the spiritual mold we think we should fit. What we need is intention, the desire to become kinder, calmer, gentler, holier people. We need prayer, asking for help, and then we need the faith to let go.

Becoming holy is never something we do on our own, and we don’t have to. What we need dwells within us, is a free gift to us from God at our baptism. Each of us is filled with the Holy Spirit, the Spirit that is the Love which binds the Father to the Son, and us to Them. Surrendering to the Spirit is all we need.

To approach the holy table we are meant to be open to the promptings of that Spirit, as T. S. Elliot put it, “to the drawing of that Love and the voice of that calling”. We aren’t meant to force ourselves into practices that seem archaic, but to open our hearts to a Love so deep, so strong, that we want to make all the sacrifices of which we are capable, to put on our finery, physical and spiritual, and do our best to present ourselves humbly, and reverently to God.

Not only does surrender to the Holy Spirit make it possible for us to be the people we are meant to be, receiving Holy Communion invigorates that Spirit, and strengthens us to do God’s will. We know this is true, because Jesus has told us, “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.”

In order to become the people we are called to be, prayer is necessary. Oh – but we say – we haven’t got time for prayer. Then start small. Little prayers are just as powerful as big ones and they don’t need to take up much time. For example, here are four possibilities: “Please Lord enliven the Holy Spirit within me, or, please make me more loving, or, please help me to live in accordance with Your will, or, please help me find more time for prayer.

Once we open ourselves to God through prayer, there are some concrete things we can do. We’re always told that pride is the great sin, but it’s not easy to see how that works in our daily lives. The reason pride is so hard to spot is that it’s human nature to like being right, being in control, and we just naturally feel that our opinions, decisions, and plans are the best ones. While self-confidence and good planning are worthwhile, having laid our plans, we then have a tendency to dig in, and quickly begin to see people who oppose us as wrong.

Everyone feels wronged at some time or other. On a global scale we watch the news and “take sides”, on a personal level, some of us are still nurturing hurts and injustices that occurred a long time ago. All of this blocks the flow of grace. Jesus told us to forgive. Mother Teresa once said, “If we really want to love, we must learn to forgive”. We always need to reexamine the possibility that our will, our plans, may not be in harmony with the will of God, and we need to forgive anyone and everyone we feel is “wrong”. That doesn’t mean we have to understand them or agree with them – only forgive them.

And in forgiving others, we too find forgiveness. How blessed we are that our communion service includes a confession, where we silently recall our sins and ask to be forgiven, and that having done so, there is absolution – the assurance that God has indeed forgiven us. When I was young, latecomers to the communion service who missed the confession and absolution did not come forward to receive the Sacrament.

Bu therein lies a caution. We must never stay away from the Holy Table for fear of “breaking the rules”, especially not when out heart calls us to come forward. All of our beautiful practices and traditions come to nothing if they are not motived by reverence, respect, and love.

We need to improve the flow of grace through our hearts and souls, to be the loving, thoughtful, gentle, kind, caring, holy people Jesus calls us to be. Becoming channels of grace does not mean we will improve our worldly lifestyle or become rich and famous, but it does mean we will be filled with joy and peace.

This morning we are part of a holy mystery, of a centuries old sacred action, a gift given to us by Jesus Himself. The hymn tells us, “Let all mortal flesh keep silence and with fear and trembling stand…Christ our God to earth decendeth, our full homage to demand.”

Several years ago, having missed the midnight service, I ended up at the Christmas morning Eucharist. Much to my amazement, a young mother and a toddler slipped into the pew behind me. We all waited for the greatest gift ever given. The little boy snuggled up to his mother and she put her arm around him. He was very well behaved, but eventually he said, sotto voce, “Mama, I’m hungry.” “First we feed the heart and soul,” she said gently, “then the tummy.” “Then presents?” he whispered. After all, it was Christmas. “Then presents,” she said, and hugged him.

That’s how it’s meant to be for us. First we feed our heart and soul, with the greatest gift that has ever been given, and then the spiritual gifts begin in a never ending flow. The Church teaches us that the gifts of the Holy Spirit are wisdom which accords with charity, understanding which accords with faith, counsel which accords with prudence, fortitude which accords with courage, knowledge, piety, and fear of the Lord which accords with hope.

Such great bounty is ours – but the greatest of all gifts comes from Jesus Himself, embodied in the Sacrament, the greatest gift of all is Love.

Let us pray (from another hymn):

Come down, O Love divine, seek thou this soul of mine, and visit it with thine own ardor glowing; O Comforter, draw near, within all our hearts appear, and kindle them, thy holy flame bestowing. In Jesus Name, Amen.