Proper 15 St Peter’s 17 August 2003
Revd Mark Bonney
We are what we eat – the fact of that and a
good holiday is manifest to me not just by standing on the scales. Will it be
the Slimfast diet, or the Atkins diet, the
Cabbage soup diet, the ashram diet, the zone diet, the hay diet – the papers
had the fascinating fact the other day that sales of the Atkins diet have topped
those for Harry Potter. There’s a
very simple equation that is so obvious – but which is true – if you consume
more calories than you burn then you put on weight and it ends up in those
places you wish it didn’t. And if you’re going to lose weight you’ve got
to use more calories that you take in… and
some people have a metabolism that burns things off quicker than others – and
that’s just lucky for them. We are what we eat – and if we don’t take
notice of those foods we’re the worse for it.
But I’m not really
giving a talk about dieting! However the things we take in at a variety of
levels make us the people we are. We can, for example, very easily assume
characteristics both good and bad of those with whom we spend a good deal of
time. If we’re in a group who are in good spirits our own can be lifted too
– if we’re with someone who’s gossiping and bad-mouthing others it can
require considerable effort not to join in.
Things can go either way
– there’s many a good person who’s come a cropper through mixing with a
bad crowd – there’s many a good person who’s influenced the bad crowd for
the better.
In this morning’s
gospel Jesus says “unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his
blood you have no life in you… the one who eats this bread will live for ever.”
We are what we eat…
that’s worth reflecting on in this context.
The over zealous
literalist might accuse Christians of being cannibals – and such accusations
have been made, and some folk find the body and blood language offensive for hat
very reason. The language of flesh and blood is symbolic – but to say that is
to say something very powerful indeed. A symbol conveys something of deep, deep
meaning. Sometimes one hears someone say something like, “oh, it’s only a
symbol” – that, I must say is a stupid remark that betrays a complete
lack of understanding of some of the most meaningful parts of our lives and of
our language.
A contemporary
choreographer was once asked by a group of journalists after a premier, what the
meaning was of a particular dance she had performed. She responded; “Darlings
– if I could have told you what I meant I wouldn’t have needed to dance
it.”
If I were to tell those
of you who wear a wedding ring for example that it was a mere symbol and
therefore pretty meaningless you’d be rightly upset and offended – there’s
no such thing as a mere symbol.
This morning we use
water in baptism, bread and wine at the Eucharist – powerful symbols – and
never ever mere symbols. If it were possible to express ourselves and our
understanding of the world around us simply by logically connected statements
then there’d never be a need for art, music, liturgy or symbol.
But that’s not so –
and the symbols of flesh and blood in our gospel, the bread and the wine of the
eucharist, the water of baptism point us to what we are called to be and to
become. Today Ella begins a journey – an eternal journey that will never end
– the journey for which she and all of us are created, and that is the journey
of knowing God. The water of baptism amongst other things symbolises the
cleansing, refreshing, abundant love of God – the engulfing awe-inspiring
presence of the one of made us all. The symbols of the Christian faith aid us on
this journey.
Yesterday there was a wedding here – and as I do at every wedding I began with the words from the first letter of John “God is love, and those who live in love live in God, and God lives in them.” Becoming what we eat is about becoming more and more like God- understanding ever more deeply what that overused and much abused word love means.
On Wednesday this coming week the church remembers a saint called Bernard of Clairvaux – you may not be too familiar with him, but he is particularly remembered for a series of 83 sermons on the Song of Songs from the OT – a book many have never read, and probably never heard a sermon on either (I know I’ve preached one sermon on it here – but it was at Evensong!). The Song of Songs is a splendid book – fascinating, firstly because the word God is never mentioned – and secondly because it’s all about human love and unashamed passion and sexuality.
In the early 12th
century ST Bernard followed a tradition that was a little embarrassed by this
and tended to allegorise the book – nevertheless when I picked up one of his
sermons the other day I was very moved by what he had to say about love. If we
are to become what we eat – if we are to have the eternal life of the gospel
– if we are to become truly Christlike – we need to forever learn more about
love. Here’s what St Bernard said some 850 years ago about love:
“Love is
self-sufficient; it is pleasing to itself and on its own account. Love is its
own payment, its own reward. Love needs no extrinsic cause or result. Love is
the result of love. I love because I love; I love in order to love. When God
loves he wishes only to be loved in return; assuredly he loves for no other
purpose than to be loved; He knows that those who love him are happy in their
love.”
That’s about the
essential selflessness of love – in a world that so often judges things by
returns - by what’s in it for me,
or what’s in for us – that challenge of the self-giving love of God in Jesus
remains.
The water of baptism is an initiation into this kind of loving – the bread and wine of the Eucharist are no mere symbols but there very things through which Christ comes to us. We are what we eat – we are called by love, for love, to love – and this is our food for that growing in love – growing up into the one and only living God, who is Father Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.