Father Tim Lemlin
An angel appears at a faculty meeting and tells the dean that in return for his unselfish and exemplary behavior, the Lord will reward him with his choice of infinite wealth, wisdom or beauty. Without hesitating, the dean selects infinite wisdom.
"Done!" says the angel, and disappears in a cloud of smoke and a bolt of lightning.
Now, all heads turn toward the dean, who sits surrounded by a faint halo of light. At length, one of his colleagues whispers, "Say something."
The dean looks intently at his colleagues gathered around him and says, "I should have taken the money."
My attention was drawn to an article in the newspaper recently about a town that has been invaded by vultures. Hundreds of these birds have apparently arrived in the town for no apparent reason. The people living in the area didn't seem to mind their arrival until they became aware of the odor. The vultures, because their diet is dead animals, emit the scent of death and rotting flesh.
This article caused me to pause and reflect on my choice of food. I am not only talking about the food that I eat. I am also speaking about the choice of food that I feed my mind and spirit.
There are those who say that 93% of our thoughts are repetitive. We re-hash conversations, events, hurts caused by others, imagined controversies, challenges overcome, victories, defeats, and the list seems to go on indefinitely. We find it nearly impossible to focus completely upon one thing, one thought, or one person, and it's seemingly impossible to completely accept any one of them. We feed, much like the vultures, on that which is already dead, but we usually don't know it. We don't know it because we rarely pause long enough to see the pattern, and when it does come to our awareness we choose to ignore it because it seems overwhelming.
God through Jesus invites us to feed on life not death. When we feed on death that which we have, when we give it away, dissipates, but when we feed on life that which we have, when we give it away, grows in abundance. Hence we hear Jesus declaring in today's gospel, "Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you. Who ever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life…."
We can tell when we are feeding on death because we will be competing, comparing or be against someone or thing. Death needs an enemy in order to define itself. Judgment or categorizing is the tool that we most often use to be in opposition. (This person is intelligent. This person isn't. This person is pretty. This person isn't.)
Several days ago I began to monitor the number of judgments I would make in a ten minute span of time. I was dumbfounded. Feeding on death is like driving with one foot on the gas pedal and one on the brake. I realized that I am always fighting against myself. It saps the God given life out of me.
When we live in the past we miss the present. Forgiveness is the only vehicle that can bring us into the present. It releases us from the power that draws us back to feed on that which is already dead.
I invite you to monitor your thoughts. It might cause you some frustration, but I encourage you to persevere. Don't try to change them. Simply observe them. Then, forgive yourself and know that God forgives you. This, in many ways, is all that we can do. The choice to forgive is the choice to feed on life rather than death, which in turn makes us available to experience true life. We will know when we are feeding on life because it is not dependent upon any oppositional energy. It is relational, abundant, individual and inclusive of all life.
