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Reflection by Robyn Rebbechi,
What struck me in the readings for this week were the way in which they show us a series of very human responses to God.
The reading from Kings has a very clear ‘40 days and nights’ journey, which I expected to be the ‘takeaway’ message, however what really spoke to me in reading this passage was how easy it is to relate to Elijah’s sense of despondency. ‘I can’t go on’ he says. It is such a familiar part of most people’s experience to have moments where we think we can’t go on. Moments where it is all futile, or too difficult, or the goal seems too far away. At that point, it is our ‘better angels’, perhaps friends or colleagues or family members, who might be the ones to tap us on the shoulder, to give us our inspiration and encouragement to keep going. In reading about the prophet’s personal battle with this futility we ‘mere mortals’ can gain some comfort in our own difficulties in life.
Further to this, another ‘aha’ moment is revealed by the angel to Elijah. The words of the angel do not promise a miracle: the angel simply says that Elijah should get up and eat, ‘Or the journey will be too long for you’. How many times have we all heard this advice? Stop, rest, eat something. Take care of yourself. Put your own oxygen mask on first before looking after others. These are the things that will make our tasks possible, which will make the journey possible.
The reading from Ephesians gives us a glimpse into how we should then live, to be ‘of God’ for others. Perhaps it is by making sure we “Never have grudges .., or lose [our] temper, or raise [our] voice to anybody…” that we imitate God and become living inspirations and encouragement for others, in the same way that the angel encouraged Elijah.
In reading this week’s Gospel with ‘fresh eyes’ I again encountered some surprises. While Jesus’ message to the Jews should have been enough to stop them in their tracks, that he was the living bread from heaven, instead we see humans acting like humans: not appreciating what they have in front of them and complaining about whether Jesus could in fact be anyone special, because he was really just a local boy and they knew his family. This is such a typical human response: thinking that we can judge someone’s worth by where they come from or the fact that we think we know all there is to know about them. That Jesus needed to say to them ‘Stop your complaining’ is also comforting for those of us who try every day to make Jesus known to others; to students, to colleagues, to fellow pilgrims on life’s journey. This is not the first time that people have failed to hear the message: even Jesus had to work with a difficult audience.
I can’t help but think that the arguments which Jesus tried to stop would most likely have gone on behind the scenes. His listeners, full of doubt, would have taken some convincing before turning to follow him. They, like us, were humans after all. Perhaps this glimpse into the minds of Jesus’ followers should encourage us: perhaps it is a message that no matter how frail our belief, no matter how often we think ‘it is all too much’, like Elijah, or when we think ‘there’s no way that God can be in this situation’, we need to stop, trust and look for the possibilities. Look for the ways in which God is present and watch out for the human ‘angels’ who are hovering near us, holding out the coffee and biscuits, ready to give us a nudge and point us on our way.
