To Whom Would We Go?

As a result of this,
many of his disciples returned to their former way of life
and no longer accompanied him.
Jesus then said to the Twelve, “Do you also want to leave?”
Simon Peter answered him, “Master, to whom shall we go?
You have the words of eternal life.
We have come to believe
and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God.”
—John 6:60-69

Could a child forget his mother,
though he takes a lonesome road,
or one hand forget the other
and the work they both have known?
You who joined us as our brother
knit yourself into our souls.
If we leave you for another,
Lord, to whom then would we go?

When you called us, we were children
seeking wisdom as a prize.
We had labored; we had striven,
but had nothing for our strife.
On the sea by storm winds driven,
you were peace amid our cries,
and the words that you have given—
They are spirit; they are life.

We will stay, Lord; we will follow,
though we may not understand.
Our desires were all but hollow
when you met us on the sands:
You have filled us, joy and sorrow;
all good things come from your hands.
And the bread you take and hallow,
we will eat at your command.

George Smith – Still Life of Bread, Butter and Cheese – Google Art Project By George Smith (1714 – 1776) – Artist (British)Born in Chichester. Died in Chichester.Details on Google Art Project – NQGAD2XKLA7c8g at Google Cultural Institute maximum zoom level, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=21974529

Blunder

Jesus said to the crowds:
“I am the living bread that came down from heaven;
whoever eats this bread will live forever;
and the bread that I will give
is my flesh for the life of the world.”
–John 6:51-58

How could the Maker blunder,
who shaped us from the earth?
We should have been a wonder—
his fingers twitched and jerked,
or something broke asunder
and left us bent, besmirched,
for we have always hungered
and evermore shall thirst.

But nothing we have eaten
has left us satisfied,
for, oh, how we have feasted!
And, oh, how we have died.
We lost the fruits of Eden,
and now how shall we find
the end of endless needing
that eats us from inside?

In you alone, O Savior,
who did not spurn our need,
but came, like us, to break here,
and came, like us, to bleed.
You know the bread we're craving;
we beg true food, true drink.
And you, who have its savor,
you bid us take and eat.

German or South Netherlandish; Relief; Sculpture-Stone By This file was donated to Wikimedia Commons as part of a project by the Metropolitan Museum of Art. See the Image and Data Resources Open Access Policy, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=60870093

Manna

“I am the bread of life.
Your ancestors ate the manna in the desert, but they died;
this is the bread that comes down from heaven
so that one may eat it and not die.
I am the living bread that came down from heaven;
whoever eats this bread will live forever;
and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.”
—John 6:41-51

You sank your fingers in the earth
to dredge the furrows of our birth
and planted first a garden there
with seeds you made, all good to bear.

All times and seasons you have set
to plow and plant, to reap and rest.
You turn the earth and send it rain,
and you yourself prepare the grain.

So all we harvest is your gift:
You fill the empty hands we lift;
you fill the earth to stir the seed;
you fill us, too, who see our need.

Not earth's alone, but heaven's bread
you give us, Lord, and we are fed.
As every day we eat and live,
our life is in the bread you give.

You are yourself the bread of life,
and those who eat will never die,
no more as seeds to fall and sleep
but evermore your feast to keep.

Though still we hunger, knowing this
our daily bread a foretaste is.
You grow and bless; we take and eat,
and every bite is manna sweet.

Albert Samuel Anker – Still-Life with Coffee, Bread and Potatoes By Albert Anker – http://www.sightswithin.com/Search/albert%20anker/Page_2/, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=37060415

Hunger

So they said to him,
“Sir, give us this bread always.”
Jesus said to them,
“I am the bread of life;
whoever comes to me will never hunger,
and whoever believes in me will never thirst.”
–John 6:24-35

I believe, but still I hunger;
Lord, I trust you and I thirst
as if all we have are crumbs here
in the desert of our hurt.
There are days that have no comfort,
nights when all is at its worst,
and we long for signs and wonders,
manna scattered on the dirt.

Bread of life, true bread from heaven,
every day I eat my fill
yet I wake each morning empty,
hunger crying for you still.
Let me take the bread you give me,
take the cup where mercy spills;
let it tell me of forgiveness,
that my cries shall yet be stilled.

For the bread is you, O Savior:
We will eat and we will live,
and the wine we are partaking
is your life upon our lips.
Though I rise again unsated,
let me kneel today for this:
heaven's feast of your own making
that some day shall be my bliss.

The Gathering of the Manna by James Tissot – https://thejewishmuseum.org/collection/26365-the-gathering-of-the-manna, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=8849141

What Good?

When Jesus raised his eyes
and saw that a large crowd was coming to him,
he said to Philip,
“Where can we buy enough food for them to eat?”
He said this to test him,
because he himself knew what he was going to do.
Philip answered him,
“Two hundred days’ wages worth of food would not be enough
for each of them to have a little.”
One of his disciples,
Andrew, the brother of Simon Peter, said to him,
“There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish;
but what good are these for so many?”
—John 6:1-15

To the tune FINLANDIA:

What good is this, the little I can offer?
All I can give, O God, is just myself:
This heart fails love; this body breaks and suffers;
this mind sees not, turned inward on itself.
As nothing worth, this pittance that I proffer,
as these few loaves and fish you take and bless.

As once you took the mud that I am made of
and clothed yourself in human littleness.
You laid it out as bread for us to savor,
poured out as wine, salvation on our lips.
They were so small—five wounds that pierced two natures—
how can you feed a multitude with this?

Yet it is so, O bread come down from heaven:
You took our life and clothed yourself in dust,
yet not our sin; untainted by our leaven,
poured yourself out to fill the blessing cup
that we might drink and live and be forgiven.
Our weaknesses transformed into your love.

Then take these gifts that in my hands are nothing.
Take for your own my heart and mind and strength.
If you transform them to a wondrous something,
let it be so, for you can do all things.
Or leave me still my self as you'd begun it:
It is still good, and yours in every length.

The feeding of the five thousand; Christ blessing fishes in left background; the apostles with large baskets in foreground; illustration to William of Auvergne, ‘Postilla super Epistolas et Evangelia’, Basel; Michael Furter, 1511. 1511 Woodcut By Print made by: Urs Graf – https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/P_1927-0614-125, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=89886988

So Much

As a result of this,
many of his disciples returned to their former way of life
and no longer accompanied him.
Jesus then said to the Twelve, “Do you also want to leave?”
Simon Peter answered him, “Master, to whom shall we go?
You have the words of eternal life.
We have come to believe
and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God.”
John 6:60-69

So much of what you say is hard:
Sometimes I turn away,
but still I crave what you impart
and treasure what you say.

So much I cannot understand,
so much I rail against,
but still I seek out your command
to straighten what is bent,

to eat the living bread you give,
to take your riven flesh
and find in it a way to live
in blood and water drenched,

and make up, in my flesh and bone,
what somehow lacks in yours,
as if you were but man alone
and not the living Lord.

So much so far beyond my ken,
so much I cannot know,
but if I turn from you, what then?
O Lord, where would I go?

Then give me still the living bread,
and give me still your word.
I am still here, O Christ my head,
and you are still my lord.

Last Supper By Grão Vasco Fernandes – https://www.europeana.eu/portal/record/2063606/POR_280_008.html, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=48454997

Bread of Life

No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draw him,
and I will raise him on the last day.
It is written in the prophets:
They shall all be taught by God.
Everyone who listens to my Father and learns from him comes to me.
Not that anyone has seen the Father
except the one who is from God;
he has seen the Father.
Amen, amen, I say to you,
whoever believes has eternal life.
I am the bread of life.
Your ancestors ate the manna in the desert, but they died;
this is the bread that comes down from heaven
so that one may eat it and not die.
I am the living bread that came down from heaven;
whoever eats this bread will live forever;
and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.”
John 6:41-51

We ate the manna in the desert,
and for a time it gave us life,
but none who ate it lived forever:
The way of all flesh is to die.

The rock who flows with living water
to fill the wastes we wander through,
the bread of life, who sees the Father,
has fallen like the morning dew.

And now he offers: Come, you hungry,
to take the bread I freely give.
Oh, come to me—why spend your money?
Receive my life that you may live.

Now may the Father draw us to him,
who for the life of all the world,
fell down to earth that, rising through him,
the Father's face we may behold.

And may we take the bread of heaven,
not as the manna sent before,
but as the life the Son has given
that we may eat and die no more.

All glory be to God the Father
who teaches us of God the Son,
and God the Spirit, God eternal,
whose life in us shall make us one.

Early third century depiction of eucharistic bread and fish, Catacomb of San Callisto, Rome. Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=566678

You Open Up Your Hands

So they said to him,
“What sign can you do, that we may see and believe in you?
What can you do?
Our ancestors ate manna in the desert, as it is written:
He gave them bread from heaven to eat.”
So Jesus said to them,
“Amen, amen, I say to you,
it was not Moses who gave the bread from heaven;
my Father gives you the true bread from heaven.
For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven
and gives life to the world.”
John 6:24-35

You open up your hands
and pour your blessings down:
The strength to walk these desert lands
lies scattered on the ground.
We gather what you send—
Lord, help us turn from doubt
to trust tomorrow, once again,
your manna will abound.

The vale our road leads through 
is full of fears and harms,
but Father, you are ever true
through all of our alarms.
Not Moses, but from you
the bread of heaven comes;
then by its fullness, draw us to
the welcome in your arms.

And though we may rebel
upon this lifelong road,
still we must all these wonders tell
in every place we go:
how rocks become our wells
and springs burst forth from stones,
and daily bread from heaven fell
to bring us to your throne!

The Gathering of the Manna (color) By James Tissot – Jewish Museum, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=8849141

What Good Are These?

When Jesus raised his eyes
and saw that a large crowd was coming to him,
he said to Philip,
“Where can we buy enough food for them to eat?”
He said this to test him,
because he himself knew what he was going to do.
Philip answered him,
“Two hundred days’ wages worth of food would not be enough
for each of them to have a little.”
One of his disciples,
Andrew, the brother of Simon Peter, said to him,
“There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish;
but what good are these for so many?”
John 6:1-15

To the tune FINLANDIA:

What good are these, five loaves to feed five thousand?
Two hundred days could never earn enough.
How can we feed the hungry that surround us?
How can we give, and have some morsel left?
Shall we starve, too, alike with those who crowd us,
or shall we live, good Savior, by your gift?

You blessed the bread and broke the loaves asunder:
They all were fed, the thousands at your feet.
And more besides: You filled them all with wonder;
you bounty gave more than the crowd could eat.
Then bless us, too, who come to you in hunger,
who come in hope, your mercy here to meet.

What good are these, the bread and wine we offer?
These morsels here, what works can they perform
to feed the poor, or comfort those who suffer,
to seek the lost, or shelter those forlorn?
But in your hands, this gift is something other:
You give yourself, and, Lord, we are reborn.

O Lamb of God, you came as one for many;
on earth with us, you felt our hunger, too.
You knew our needs, and filled us with your plenty;
and when you died, you drew us all to you.
Without you, Lord, the hearts in us are empty:
Come fill us all with love forever true.