 |
| Photo by Rachel Claire, from pexels.com |
Do you know the word ‘hangry’? Hungry + angry = hangry. Sometimes called the hungry grumpies. And it means one of us, often me, needs to eat SOON!
A couple of years ago, my friend Nikki’s family, whose kids are a few years older than mine, coined the word dungry. Dungry for dumb hungry. Dungry describes our inclination to make dumb decisions or forget common sense when hangry.
We’ve all done it. Missed a meal because there wasn’t food available, or because we were distracted, or didn’t have time. And then we really do feel off. Maybe we have a headache, or the low rumble in our stomach turns to nausea. We may not recognize our physical symptoms as hunger, even as they manifest themselves in how we think and act.
We find ourselves thinking - and maybe saying out loud - judgmental and harsh things about ourselves, our loved ones and co-workers, that other driver. Reading ill intent into small interactions that normally wouldn’t irritate us. Making less well-considered decisions and hasty retorts that we later regret.
You may know that I love a little etymology, so I looked up ‘hungry.’ In Middle English, hunger meant “desire with longing” and as early as 1200 CE (900 years ago!) it referred to a strong or eager spiritual desire. [2]
I wonder how much of hangry and dungry have to do with spiritual hunger colliding with physical hunger.
Naming our spiritual and emotional hungers can be challenging when our bodies are well-fed. Even when we recognize the wandering and restlessness of our hearts and minds as signs of spiritual weariness or hunger, we don’t always know how to fill that emptiness. We may even try to fill our spiritual needs with the excesses of food and drink and exercise that fill our physical hungers. But they never satisfy for long.
Looking to the Gospel today, Jesus discusses spiritual and physical hunger - and reveals himself as the bread of life. Bread that comes down from heaven.
His audience knows all about bread from God. It’s part of their origin story. Moses led the people of Israel in the wilderness for 40 years. When there was no other food, God gave them manna to eat every day. And here’s Jesus saying he’s the bread from God. Not a legend or miracle in the past, but something now, right here in front of them.
In John, Jesus makes seven “I am” statements, like “I am the bread of life.” These “I am” statements are key moments when Jesus pulls back the veil between heaven and earth, as only he can do, and reveals to humanity a new way of encountering God. Not a way like the ancestors, not a pillar of fire, a mountaintop experience, or manna that appears every morning. Jesus shows a new way for our deepest hungers to be filled. A new abundance of food that fills the void that mere bread cannot. A source of sustenance for followers of Jesus, who also says, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.” (John 14:6)
Ephesians 4 talks about growing into the full stature of Christ. About becoming spiritual Olympians. This body is perfectly joined and knit together, every muscle and ligament strengthened to its prime condition and fulfilling its God-intended purpose.
The church is that body. Not just church of those of us gathered together here, or our denomination. Church as all the followers of Jesus, in every time and place.
In Ephesians, the church is envisioned as an evolving organism, dedicated to speaking the truth in love and to growing up in every way. For this body, Jesus is no mere past prophet. He is the catalyst and core of the body. He embodies the new community of God’s beloved community, a new humanity coming into being through his followers.
Church, then, is a continually growing and changing body, not unlike our human bodies. Our Trinity community is one version of this body. Through collaboration and mutual love we are building up the body of Christ. Only God knows the fullness and potential of our life together. Our job is to live our best and most faithful lives, offering our selves, our gifts, to the world’s deepest needs.
Epistles, like the letter to the Ephesians, often offer correctives to early Christian communities who were experiencing growing pains. From the behaviors named in this excerpt, it seems quite possible that the Jesus-followers in Ephesus were hangry and dungry. Their anger, slander, criticism, bitterness, malice sound like spiritual hungers coming out sideways because they didn’t know how to express them.
The author refocuses our attention on the sacrifice of these behaviors, giving up the criticism and back-biting. Filling spiritual hunger with the bread of life that Jesus offers: kindness, forgiveness, truthfulness and honesty, building up one another with grace and love.
We will NOT be perfect at living in love, at treating ourselves and others as Jesus would. We CAN learn to recognize our spiritual hunger pangs - that deep and relentless need to know more of God, to feel and live the purpose God has for us, to use our gifts to change the world for God’s purposes. We year to bring the kingdom of God into being, to tell people that there is an alternative to hate and hunger and violence. These hunger pangs can only be fed with holy and living bread.
In a few minutes we will say a grand blessing and gather around God’s table for nourishment. Acknowledging our spiritual hangries, we will eat and drink of Jesus, living bread and wine. So that we may be filled with hope and peace, to lead lives worthy of the calling to which we have been called, to bear with one another in love.
_______________
[1] Thanks to my friend Nikki and her family for coining ‘dungry.’
[2] https://www.etymonline.com/word/hunger#etymonline_v_16065, accessed 11 August 2024.
No comments:
Post a Comment