Again with the flesh and blood!  Adhering to the assigned texts in the lectionary can sometimes be like the Godfather, “Just when we thought we were out…the lectionary pulls us right back in.”

Back in to this flesh and blood stuff.  Didn’t we hear this last week?  Personally, I like hearing about the bread.  I like bread.  Jesus just stick with the bread. Where my stomach shifts a bit is when Jesus gets all carnivorous with his imagery. 

Eating flesh and drinking blood are such distracting illustrations, that it becomes quite easy to miss the metaphor. 

I imagine the Jews in their Capernaum synagogue shifting in their pews, putting their hands to their mouths, muttering to themselves,

“Is he suggesting we should do as the Pagans do…I’ll be jiggered if I’m going to eat flesh with blood still in it.  Did he say HIS flesh and blood?  Ew.  Cannibal.”

And we Christians who look through a Lutheran lens - being the Protestants that we are -  we resonate with such an exchange.  “We’re NOT Transubstantiationalists.  Look, Jesus, We can go with you being in, with, and under the bread and wine, but gnawing on what could be your thigh and drinking your blood?  No thanks, we’ll pass.”

Jesus’ words are jarring, the metaphoric notwithstanding.   With all this flesh and blood talk, we tune out the “Abide in me” part.  We, like his disciples, are invited by Jesus to make our home in him, just as he is at home in God.  The question is, do we hunger for such a home?  Or are other appetites competing for our affection?  And if so, who is it that is shaping our ultimate concern, our ultimate yearning, our ultimate hunger?

This past Sunday, the Rice Class of ’13 arrived on campus.  Anyone who has hauled their kid off to college – or who has been the “haulee,” as the case may be -  is familiar with the anxiety and melodrama of this “Rite of Passage.”  This year’s rite did not disappoint.  Though I arrived late on the scene, I was still in time to observe some parents casing the campus.  Others hustling their matriculates to the New Family’s Orientation where they were greeted by a host of academic department and student organization displays.  Offered a knick-knack here. Handed a brochure there. All the while spiels coming at them left and right.

It doesn’t take long, as a new college student, for voices to begin the process of jockeying for your ultimate concern, your ultimate yearning, your ultimate hunger.

Life beyond college is no different.  A vast array of powers stands ready to promise our security and safety: a home where fear does not have the upper hand.  Homes made of money, sports, a solid 401K, an industrialized military, the coolest fashions…and the list goes on.

In our fleshy clothing, we are beings who hunger and thirst.  This hunger and thirst we have doesn’t seek only momentary satisfaction. At root they do not just demand something specific.  In them is reflected the quest for life generally.

In our quest to slake our hungers, our culture tells us that we are in control of our lives, our destiny.  If we work hard, we will be rewarded with material gain or at least a decent GPA..  We feel good about ourselves when we are successful, when we have a good job, a clean house, children who make good grades.   There can be no question that our ultimate hungers are summarily shaped.

Perhaps this is why we, like the disciples are offended by Jesus’ offer of spirit and life.  And perhaps this is why we continue to return here, in this place that the Word made Flesh may once again be the Revealer he is, settling our unsettled faith, enlivening our trust, making himself known, offering the words of eternal life.

We learn from the Evangelist that twelve disciples remain by Jesus’ side.  He asks them if they too want go away.  And Simon Peter’s response instructs us, “Lord, to whom can we go?!  You have the words of eternal life.

Jesus not only has the words of eternal life, he is the Word that breathes our very lives into existence.  This historical Jew living in first Century Palestine – a true man – is also truly the One who was with God in the beginning.  Who breathed creation into existence, and who has come to show us who God is.

He’s the One who offers his own body and blood as food – food that tucks his ministry, his proclamation, his saving presence into our very being: even when our hunger’s a bit disoriented. 

Friends, we not only consume Christ at the Table, but we are consumed by him whom we eat.  At the Lord’s Table, wayward yearnings are reoriented.  Our longing for home is answered.  We’re enabled to live in Holy insecurity, because we’re reminded of a crucified-risen Lord who moves us from death to eternal life.

In the moment we are led by God to eat Jesus’ flesh and drink Jesus’ blood – and we truly abide in him and him in us – we receive life.  We give up the notion that we are in control.  Fear no longer has the upper hand. 

We understand that we’re no better than any other child of God because of our GPA, our skin color, our gender, our job, our denomination, or our political pedigree.

Our Communal life together is an ongoing turning over to God that which we fear most, trusting that we are loved.  When we receive the love of God that is pure grace, love flows from us and we love others. 

Brothers and sisters, having been fed from the Table, God moves us to share in the misfortunes not just of those we know in here, but of those who are strangers to us out there.  Just as love and support are given us, we in turn are sent to render love and support to others. 

This is no easy task.  It’s difficult to accept.  Thank God we have One who invites us, over and over again, to be fed by him, to abide in him, and he in us, that we may find our one true home, that we may be the Church, that, in our Eucharistic life together, we may hunger for no other but him.  Our Lord, Jesus Christ.

AMEN.