The Joy of Hunger

 

21^st Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle B

I am diabetic. To help control it I take one of those medications that has the happy side effect of causing me to lose weight. It does that by suppressing my appetite, and so I eat less. Makes sense. You thought I’ve been working out. Nah. It took a couple of months but one day I just realized that I was no longer hungry. I don’t think about food much. In fact, I even keep forgetting to eat. I can get by on one meal a day now and never miss it. I eat because I have to but really don’t enjoy it much anymore. The law of unintended consequences.

 

It’s easy to lose weight when you’re not hungry. That’s why these drugs are so popular for non-diabetics to use to lose weight. They remove the pain and the discipline that is usually required. I also depend too much on the drugs to control my disease. I don’t watch what I eat or exercise as much as I should. It doesn’t require me to really do much to get the benefit. My numbers are good right now, but what happens if I go off the meds?

 

So, one of the side effects of the drug that is helping control my disease is a good one – maintaining a healthy weight. However, recent studies have also shown another unexpected side effect in some users. They not only are not hungry but have seemed to have diminished joy in life. Not just joy in eating, that would seem logical, but joy in other areas of their lives as well. When you are hungry all you can think about is food, and therefore you enjoy eating even more. When you’re not hungry even the joy of eating goes away. And as the deliciousness of food is diminished, one of the great joys of life also seems to be slipping away.  

 

It's a two-edged sword. Removing the pain and discipline can also remove the joy.

 

Hunger. We see it as something to avoid. We want to eliminate world hunger. We want to save people from suffering and dying. But hunger is also a good thing, because it causes anticipation for something good. The absence of something makes us want it more. Hunger for food makes the eating even more satisfying. Remove the hunger remove the satisfaction.

 

Today we hear the culmination of the great bread of life discourse in John. The crowds were first miraculously filled with bread and fish. Their physical hunger was satisfied for a time. But their fullness wore off, and so followed Jesus across the lake to see if he would perform the miracle again. Jesus upraided them and challenged them to see beyond mere bread to himself, the bread of life that has come down from heaven. Their hunger was superficial, but Jesus knew their spiritual hunger, and yet when He promised satisfaction they couldn’t understand it. They couldn’t get past his claims. How can someone come down from heaven? How can someone be bread? Who does he think he is? And this thing about eating his flesh and drinking his blood is really over the top. This saying is hard. Who can accept it? And that’s understandable if they just took it at face value, if they only saw physical bread and an ordinary man. And so they returned to their former way of life.

 

They left not because they weren’t hungry anymore but because they didn’t understand what they truly hungered for. They had eaten the bread and fish but had not felt the deep satisfaction of the bread of life. And they didn’t believe yet that Jesus was who he said he was, and that by entering into relationship with him they would gain eternal life. They saw him as a prophet and miracle worker. They could not accept the idea that he was the Son of God. This saying is hard. Who can accept it?

 

The apostles had a different experience and understanding of Jesus. They saw him as so much more than a great prophet. Peter said it so well. Where else can we go? We’re still hungry. Not just for physical nourishment but for the words of everlasting life. For eternal life itself. They did want that deep personal relationship with Jesus, because for three years he had been the center of their lives, literally, and they had come to believe that he is the Son of God.

 

This whole episode is such an analogy for Christianity for so many people today. We’re all hungry and want to be fed. Like the crowd, we expect one thing from Jesus and get something else, an offer so personal and deep that we’re afraid of it and reject it. We go looking to be fed physically, emotionally, and spiritually, and instead he asks us for a relationship. We are attracted to the superficial – we see the bread – and he just wants us to see who he really is. And that call always comes with a cost. We must change. We must submit. And that’s frightening.

 

We like things simple and uncomplicated. We see the superficial hunger but not the spiritual hunger inside us. Just feed my physical and emotional needs, Lord, and that’s enough. Give me a good job and a nice house. Give me a happy family and no anxiety. If you do that I will stay, if not, I will leave. Give me good liturgy with uplifting music and decent preaching, and I’ll come to Mass. But don’t ask me for anything more. Don’t ask me to enter into a deeper relationship with you, because I may not like what I see there. I may have to give up control. Give me the temporary satisfaction but not the suffering. It’s one thing to eat a bit of bread but don’t ask me to drink from the cup that you drank from. We say we become what we eat, but do I really want to become like you? Do I really want to do what it takes to make you the center of my life? Am I ready to embrace it all?

 

We are like the crowds who wanted Jesus to feed them again without their having to do anything themselves. It's a two-edged sword. Removing the pain and discipline can also remove the joy. Give me the drug and I will lose the weight, but I also risk losing the joy of anticipation and the experience of eating.

 

Have we lost our hunger for God? Maybe we have been so disappointed that Jesus is not what we expect that we have lost our appetite for him. Or maybe it’s just become so routine. I eat because I have to but really don’t enjoy it much. But I think we all have experienced the joy of that hunger at some time our lives, and so I think we can always rekindle it in our hearts. It starts with anticipating the gift of the Eucharist.

 

Remember when you were preparing for your first communion? Whether it was as a child or an adult, there was great anticipation, wasn’t there? For our catechumens their first communion is the sign that they are finally fully Catholic after such a long period of preparation. The littles are so happy not because they understand fully what they are receiving but finally they can have what their parents and older siblings and friends have had. It is a sign of growing up. They’re no longer left out. And they all have such a glow about them when they first take the host and the cup. You can feel the joy in their hearts. You can see it in their eyes. Think about how you felt that day. Now think about how you felt the last time you received the Eucharist. Has anything changed? Have you lost that initial joy? How can we regain that joy and that feeling? How can we feel hungry again?

 

Did you joyfully anticipate coming to Mass today? Do you yearn for the bread of life? How have you prepared yourself? What is in your heart as you process down the aisle for communion? Is your Amen a true declaration that “I believe, Lord, that you have the words of everlasting life? I will not leave you!”

 

Imitate the apostles, not the crowd. For them Jesus was the center of their lives, even if they didn’t fully understand who he was. They hungered for his words and struggled to live as he had commanded them. They entered into his passion and death literally, and after they experienced his resurrection the first thing they did was celebrate all of it in the Eucharist.

 

So don’t give up hope if you’re not hungry. Keep eating. Keep believing. Keep receiving. And if you do feel the joy of hunger, pass it on. Let others see the light in your eyes and feel the life within you. Keep remembering how beautiful it is.