Brief synopsis of the readings: The Old Testament from Proverbs gives us the first reading. Proverb’s writer tells us that Wisdom built her house and set a table for “whoever is simple.” Those who lack understanding should come, “eat of my food, and drink of the wine I have mixed! Forsake foolishness that you may live; advance in the way of understanding.” John’s Gospel continues to speak of the Eucharist. Here Jesus addresses the crowds and tells them that “my flesh is flesh for the light of the world.” Anyone who “eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him.” Unlike those who ate and still died, anyone “who eats this bread will live forever.”
If you ask a Christian (regardless of the level of education) about “loaves and fishes” he or she will be able to tell you about the parable we read a few weeks ago. It’s an important one: it’s in all four Gospels and the phrase “loaves and fishes” evokes images almost all of us recognize. In some ways it’s the perfect parable: we know nothing of the 5,000 (men, not including women and children) but we learn a great deal about God and generosity. Simply put this parable that not only shows the power of Jesus, it also comforts us to know that we will always be provided for.
And while we recognize that critical place of safety and community in our lives, we continue to worry about education and intellect. Early in my career in ministry I was tasked to replace someone whose addictions caused the parish where he worked to believe he could no longer could serve in his job. Faced with this reality he complained loudly that he was crucial to his position because he “knew more than anyone else.”
He was right. He had several degrees from a renowned universities and most of the people who wanted me to replace him didn’t. He certainly had more education that I did at the time.
But he confused his intelligence with wisdom. His job was to oversee the religious education of the children of the parish (the CCD program, Catholic for “Sunday School”) and to be frank, his addiction prevented him from exercising the wisdom to know what he couldn’t do. He believed his intellect, his knowledge of “the faith” was all that was demanded of him. I don’t mean to be overly critical of him (and some who read this will know who I’m talking about). He later surrendered to this addiction and lived the rest of his life with great integrity and healing.
When I replaced him I made no claim to be smarter than my predecessor because I wasn’t. I didn’t pray for intelligence but instead I prayed for enough wisdom to do the job. I recognized that the religious education of the children of the parish didn’t require me to be the best educated, the smartest, or the one with the most degrees. I recognized early on that my role as a religious educator called me to teach these children about relationships (with God and each other), about the call to community, and the call to love one another as God loves us.
Some of you will recognize this and I pray that you will be kind. I didn’t try to “know more than anyone” but I did try to forsake foolishness and devote myself to allow this generation of young Catholics to understand how faith will guide their lives and make sense to them as they choose their spouses and raise their children. I prayed that they could “advance in the way of understanding.”
I tell this story not to build myself up but instead to talk about how we sometimes confuse intelligence with wisdom. Both are good, but they speak to different values, and neither is more important.
Intelligence speaks to the ability to master skills. Intelligence allows us to understand calculus, do well on standardized tests, and (partly) advance our careers. Throughout our lives we develop skills, learn new things, and increase proficiency. We can’t live successfully without doing this.
But when it comes to living our faith, intellect isn’t enough: our faith lives also demand wisdom. We need to understand that we are called to learn how to be in relationship with each other and with God.
And now, finally, we start to talk about the readings. In the Old Testament we look at the book of Proverbs for understanding on how to live. These verses encourage us to learn how to be wise and uses imagery of eating and drinking. This fits into the images of eating and drinking that we’ve been reading for the past few weeks: in other words wisdom can nourish us just as food and drink can.
Again, as a Christian we can easily draw a strong line between eating and drinking, Eucharist, and wisdom. Consuming the body and blood of Christ gives us greater intellect, greater mastery of skills, but it also gives us greater wisdom and greater understanding of how we should treat each other.
The Gospel gives us this message. The hearers of Jesus’ message argue over the intellectual meaning of bread and wine but they miss the point. They were trying to understand the intellectual meaning of Eucharist while Jesus was trying to explain how it changed the relationship between God and us.
These reading hinge on this message: Communion, Eucharist, the Body and Blood of Christ change all of us, but only in how we relate to each other. Regardless of our Christian denomination, regardless of how we interpret the Last Supper, we are all called see each other in a new light because of these readings.
We are all called to wisdom in how we relate to each other and we are called to see Christ’s Body and Blood and the means to achieve that. Many of us were taught that Communion brought us closer to God with little emphasis on how we grow closer together. I’ve spoken about this before, but I think that’s wrong, or at least short sighted. Loving God without loving each other makes no sense; two weeks ago I spoke of enjoying the time after receiving Communion to watch others walking back to their pews.
The last few years in the Catholic Church have shown us something profound in this. Previous to the election of Pope Francis much of the Church concerned herself with issues of intellect and obedience, knowing the rules and following them. Can I sight an example? There are legions of Catholics who divorced and remarried. Intellectually they (while not excommunicated) are set apart. Because of their status they are not allowed to receive Communion and should be treated as such. But in the last few weeks Pope Francis declared that they should not be treated as outcasts. They should instead be embraced and welcomed.
Francis’ statements don’t change any intellectual teachings but they do call us to rethink how we treat one another. This isn’t a change in doctrine but in behavior. Conservative Catholics are understandably upset over this, but most of us cheer it. Intelligence calls us to look at the rules, but wisdom calls us to look at each other. None of us live perfect lives and wisdom acknowledges that.
Perhaps these readings call us to love each other more than we love the rules.