“Missing the Point” by Elizabeth Gelfeld

So I tried a little Lectio Divina with today’s gospel, during a midday walk in the sweltering humidity. And the words that called me to reflection were the words at the end of the passage: “I am the Bread of Life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry.” The lovely thing about this way of meditating on scripture is that I don’t have to march to the beat of my questions: “What does this mean? How do I translate this spiritual language into something I can live by? Who are you, anyway, Jesus?” Those questions are only some of the chorus of dancers in my heart. Another dancer is the memory of a song that was popular in Catholic churches of the 1970s, the post-Vatican II, folk music and guitar mass era. The song is “I Am the Bread of Life,” by Sister Suzanne Toolan, and I’ll bet some of you remember it, too.

I am the Bread of life.
You who come to me shall not hunger;
you who believe in me shall not thirst.
No one can come to me
unless the Father beckons.

Refrain
And I will raise you up,
and I will raise you up,
and I will raise you up on the last day.

I was not raised Catholic, but along the course of my spiritual journey I’ve come to appreciate the Catholic understanding of the “cloud of witnesses” – that the saints who have lived and loved and died are really still present with us, and not just as memories.

stormed the heavens saying every prayer to every divinity we ever knew.”

I was in awe of Kate from the first time I met her, and, over the much too short time that I knew her, I came to love her as a friend and spiritual guide. I remember her as someone who was particularly good at getting the point, and then in her gentle-yet-straightforward way explaining it to the rest of us. But when I looked up a few of the sermons she gave here, what I struck me most was her was honesty in sharing her own missing the point, and where that led her in her journey.

In her sermon of October 11, 2009, she grapples with the unease she feels about our celebrating success in our everyday ministries and basking in feeling good about what we do. She says that Brenda put words to her discomfort by remembering that, in the conservative church of her youth, this sort of testimony would often elicit this response from someone in the congregation: “Give God the glory!” And Kate, the cradle Episcopalian, says, “Wow – not my style, but what a way to offer praise and thanksgiving. . . . I want to find language and a practice that . . . keeps me aware of the Holy One in whom I and all of creation live and move and have our being.”

Kate describes how tired she was, and how distracted during the service, which was all in Spanish. But then, as “the priests fanned out through the cathedral” to serve Communion, the organ began to play a familiar tune and the congregation sang, in Spanish of course, “I Am the Bread of Life.” When they reached the refrain, Kate sang quietly to herself,

And I will raise them up,

and I will raise them up,

and I will raise them up on the last day.

I was so thankful to hear something that touched my heart. Then a priest appeared a few feet in front of me with the consecrated wafers. I did not intend to join those who lined up to be served, but to my amazement, I began to weep and found myself stepping into the line to receive the Host.

I still do not know what that brief interlude means, but now I see it was a gift, another small glimpse of a new earth. For a moment, I saw the motley group of Christians and others, assembled in the cathedral at Santiago de Compostela, as one people. Individuals who had come from different starting points, apparently motivated by different hopes or dreams, had nonetheless converged on a destination they all had in common. It was a communion of saints.

At the memorial service for Kate, here at Seekers on September 24, 2011, Diann Neu, Kate’s spiritual director and friend, ended her reflection by saying,

I believe this is Kate’s legacy to us:

And to that, all of us might just add, “Thank God we’re in this together.”