Today’s Scripture Readings

Gospel Reading

NRSV

The next day the crowd that had stayed on the other side of the lake saw that there had been only one boat there. They also saw that Jesus had not got into the boat with his disciples, but that his disciples had gone away alone. Then some boats from Tiberias came near the place where they had eaten the bread after the Lord had given thanks. So when the crowd saw that neither Jesus nor his disciples were there, they themselves got into the boats and went to Capernaum looking for Jesus. When they found him on the other side of the lake, they said to him, ‘Rabbi, when did you come here?’ Jesus answered them, ‘Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For it is on him that God the Father has set his seal.’ Then they said to him, ‘What must we do to perform the works of God?’ Jesus answered them, ‘This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent.’

Today, the first day of Term 2, is a fitting day to reflect on a passage about work. In this scripture, Jesus tells his disciples to work for food that endures. I feel the invitation to re-enter the term with faith and hope. If my focus is on my wage, then the squeeze of a struggling economy can leave me with a sense of lack. However, when I focus on what is eternal, my heart’s attention shifts.

What can I take with me? The love I have for family and friends, the experiences I’ve lived through and the faith I’ve been gifted. The nurturing of this faith, even in the dark; the decision to hope even when headlines peddle despair; the choice to love when love isn’t felt but fought for – this is the work I choose to do.

It begins with a gift, received with gratitude, and then has to be lived out with resilience and consistency. Each day offers opportunities to do this work, if only we have eyes to see.

A few weeks ago, a stranger knocked on my door at night. She was at the wrong house on the wrong street. I brought her water, sat with her on the front steps, and listened as she shared. She was a single mum, whose partner had been deported, struggling to cope. Parts of her story felt familiar, and the chance to listen with compassion felt like just as much of a gift to me as it was to her.

How could receiving these moments of grace as gift rather than inconvenience, transform the work I do each day?