FaceBook Sunday Morning Reflection 

August 18, 2024

Good Sunday morning, children of the Bread of Life.

We're almost done with this summer cycle of John's Gospel and Jesus torturing the metaphor of Bread until we say, "Stop! Okay! I get it! You are the Bread of Life. If I eat this bread, I'll know Life Eternal. Got it!'

Well, you must admit, it IS a difficult concept to get your head wrapped around, even if you are well-acquainted with metaphors and similies.

It's the stuff about "unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you" that really pushes the envelope, I think.

Ladies and gentlemen, we have just left the Metaphor Zone.

I often wonder what it must be like to be a person who has not really been exposed to Christianity except, maybe, little snippets here and there about "love your neighbor," and "love one another" and then decides to walk into church one Sunday morning and hears:

"Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them."

Whoa, Nellie! Mic drop. Mind blown. Where's the door?

Actually, I know this is going to sound sacrilegious and close to heretical, but I can't imagine that when we get to heaven there'll be two lines - one EZ pass lane for Christians and one TSA, take off your shoes, laptop out of the suitcase, only 3-ounces of liquid, full body scan lane for anyone who hasn't been baptized or received Holy Communion.

I think John might have been exaggerating just a teeny-tiny bit to convince The People of The Way to take a right turn away from The Temple and toward Jesus.

I mean, c'mon.

Do you really think that when Gandhi got to the Pearly Gates he got turned away? Or Buddha? Actually, I think Jesus came right out and greeted Buddha at the gate and brought him in himself and the two of them are walking together around heaven even as I write this.

Then again, I can say all this because I'm not a rector and I get a pension that no one can take from me, so I've earned the right to be a little heretical. Especially if I err on the side of generosity.

I think Rachel Held Evans has it absolutely right (and she was an Evangelical who became Episcopalian, so, you know, she's got the creds) when she said:

"The church is God saying, 'I'm throwing a banquet and all these mismatched, messed up, people are invited. Here, have some wine."

Anyway, just this week and next and we'll be done with the metaphor of Bread. The Gospel will be gluten-free once again.

I can't leave you without noting a very important date on today's calendar and Thee Best story that goes along with it - especially since we'll soon be learning to say, "Madame President."

On this date in 1920, the 19th Amendment to the Constitution was ratified, giving women the right to vote.

The first national constitutional amendment had been proposed in Congress in 1878, and in every Congress session after that. Finally, in 1919, it narrowly passed both houses of Congress and was sent to the states to be ratified.

Most Southern states opposed the amendment, and on August 18, 1920, it all came down to Tennessee. The pro-amendment faction wore yellow roses in their lapels, and the "anti" faction wore red American Beauty roses. It was a close battle and the state legislature was tied 48 to 48.

The decision came down to one vote: that of 24-year-old Harry Burn, the youngest state legislator. He had been expected to vote against it, but he had in his pocket a note from his mother, which read:

"Dear Son: Hurrah, and vote for suffrage! Don't keep them in doubt. I noticed some of the speeches against. They were bitter. I have been watching to see how you stood, but have not noticed anything yet. Don't forget to be a good boy and help Mrs. Catt put the 'rat' in ratification. Your Mother."

He voted in favor of the amendment.

In your prayers, please remember one Harry Burn who was a good boy and did what his mother asked and changed history to include herstory. It's not like changing bread and wine but it's pretty damn near miraculous. I think Jesus is well pleased.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.