Daily Retreat 08/13/06
2006 Aug 13 SUN: NINETEENTH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME
1 Kgs 19: 4-8/ Ps 33(34): 2-3. 4-5. 6-7. 8-9 (9a)/ Eph 4: 30 – 5: 2/ Jn 6: 41-51
From today’s readings: “Get up and eat, lest the journey be too long for you... Taste and see the goodness of the Lord.... Do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were sealed for the day of redemption.... 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!”
Bread from Heaven
During my seminary studies abroad, I had the chance to travel a bit and get a taste of European culture. Now, fortunately train travel is quite cheap and economical there for students, but even so, after paying my round-trip fare I usually arrived at my destination with little more than a pocketful of change. So when eventually my stomach started growling to remind me that it was time for lunch, I had to make the most of my meager resources. So instead of a restaurant, I would go to a bakery and buy some bread. Plain bread. Then I would take it to a central park, sit down, and eat it.
It was wonderful! I would slowly chew on my bread as a gazed around my surroundings, listening to the children playing and smiling at the folks passing by on their mid-day stroll. I had bought nothing but plain bread, but it became sweetly flavored with the air and the life of the community around me. I was no tourist, I was no foreigner at those moments: I was sitting in their midst, I was eating their bread - I was one of them! They'd speak to me in their own tongue - sometimes I understood and answered, other times I had to just smile and continue chewing my bread as I tried to figure out what they had said.
You might think that bread alone wouldn't be enough, but I was always satisfied, for it never was ordinary bread. True, it came from wheat like all bread does, but the texture, the taste, even the size and shape, made this bread something extra-ordinary. In Holland, I ate short little loaves which they call "pistolets"; in Germany, I ate round bread rolls called “Brotchen,” which means "little bread"; and in France, I ate the long thin loaves we all know as French bread, but somehow it tasted much better eating it in France!
Although I could never afford fancy souvenirs, I vividly remember the peoples I visited: having tasted of their bread and their life, something of the experience remained in me. I discovered that bread alone is not always dull and tasteless. Sometime this week, sit down with a bit of French bread, or some other ethnic bread, and slowly eat a piece. Close your eyes, and see if you can taste something of the place where it's from.
You know, even after eating my fill of the local loaves, I would also seek for a different kind of Bread, which comes down from another place. This special Bread is available in every country, and it too is found at the heart of the neighborhood. It too is flavored by the surrounding community. It too is eaten without other food as we sit next to playing children and see people walk by us. This Bread is real food, unique in its texture, taste, size and shape. At Holy Mass, the Eucharistic celebration, God’s family gathers to eat the Bread of life, the flesh of the Son of Man. This is the true Bread from Heaven, having all sweetness within it. Eat of this Bread, close your eyes, and thank God for the taste of Heaven!
1 Kgs 19: 4-8/ Ps 33(34): 2-3. 4-5. 6-7. 8-9 (9a)/ Eph 4: 30 – 5: 2/ Jn 6: 41-51
From today’s readings: “Get up and eat, lest the journey be too long for you... Taste and see the goodness of the Lord.... Do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were sealed for the day of redemption.... 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!”
Bread from Heaven
During my seminary studies abroad, I had the chance to travel a bit and get a taste of European culture. Now, fortunately train travel is quite cheap and economical there for students, but even so, after paying my round-trip fare I usually arrived at my destination with little more than a pocketful of change. So when eventually my stomach started growling to remind me that it was time for lunch, I had to make the most of my meager resources. So instead of a restaurant, I would go to a bakery and buy some bread. Plain bread. Then I would take it to a central park, sit down, and eat it.
It was wonderful! I would slowly chew on my bread as a gazed around my surroundings, listening to the children playing and smiling at the folks passing by on their mid-day stroll. I had bought nothing but plain bread, but it became sweetly flavored with the air and the life of the community around me. I was no tourist, I was no foreigner at those moments: I was sitting in their midst, I was eating their bread - I was one of them! They'd speak to me in their own tongue - sometimes I understood and answered, other times I had to just smile and continue chewing my bread as I tried to figure out what they had said.
You might think that bread alone wouldn't be enough, but I was always satisfied, for it never was ordinary bread. True, it came from wheat like all bread does, but the texture, the taste, even the size and shape, made this bread something extra-ordinary. In Holland, I ate short little loaves which they call "pistolets"; in Germany, I ate round bread rolls called “Brotchen,” which means "little bread"; and in France, I ate the long thin loaves we all know as French bread, but somehow it tasted much better eating it in France!
Although I could never afford fancy souvenirs, I vividly remember the peoples I visited: having tasted of their bread and their life, something of the experience remained in me. I discovered that bread alone is not always dull and tasteless. Sometime this week, sit down with a bit of French bread, or some other ethnic bread, and slowly eat a piece. Close your eyes, and see if you can taste something of the place where it's from.
You know, even after eating my fill of the local loaves, I would also seek for a different kind of Bread, which comes down from another place. This special Bread is available in every country, and it too is found at the heart of the neighborhood. It too is flavored by the surrounding community. It too is eaten without other food as we sit next to playing children and see people walk by us. This Bread is real food, unique in its texture, taste, size and shape. At Holy Mass, the Eucharistic celebration, God’s family gathers to eat the Bread of life, the flesh of the Son of Man. This is the true Bread from Heaven, having all sweetness within it. Eat of this Bread, close your eyes, and thank God for the taste of Heaven!
posted by FrPitstick | 8/10/2006
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