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Sunday we celebrated the Feast of the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, in Greek the Eucharist, in Latin Corpus Christi.
I would like to reflect upon the significance of this Eucharist, a sacrificial meal we celebrate daily.
There have been many impressive meals in the course of human history.
At the first meal, so the Book of Genesis says, the appetizer was forbidden. That meal turned into a catastrophe.
Then there are the lavish banquets, where heads of state toast each other over rack of lamb and cherries jubilee.
And there’s the Passover, the Seder meal, a remembrance of God bringing the Jews out of ancient Egypt, “out of the house of slavery.”
The meal table often is the center of family life. Memorable things take place around the table. Families celebrate holidays and important transitions—birthdays, marriages, graduations, retirements.
Sometimes families even argue at the table. But an argument can be a positive sign that we care enough to agree to disagree. Even if we argue now and then, we share plenty of good times.
Yes, the meal table, I would propose, should be the center of family life.
And in our global Catholic family, the altar or table of the Lord is the center of our faith community. Think about that. We gather to celebrate the Lord’s Supper, to re-enact the mystery of the dying and rising of Jesus Christ. Why? So that we can re-experience our salvation and nurture the life of God within us. Remember the powerful words of Jesus at the last supper, “do this in memory of me,” “this is my body, this is my blood,” and “take and eat, take and drink.”
What does the word of God say to us on this feast of Corpus Christi?
The word takes us back to the Hebrews in the wilderness after their escape from Egypt. Moses experienced the presence of God at Mt. Sinai and renewed the covenant God made with their forebears. Here the author of Deuteronomy notes their hunger: not only for food but for God. God provides.
Think of the hunger of so many people today: for bread, for justice, for peace, for truth and for God. I especially think of the clear view Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. had for legal justice. King observed this: “It may be true that the law cannot make a man love me, but it can stop him from lynching me, and I think that's pretty important.”
Moses proclaims that we need God’s word for spiritual nourishment as much as we need food for physical nourishment . As we reflect on God’s care for us and our many blessings, we ought to give thanks to God and consider ways in which we can share our blessings with one another, especially the needy.
Paul in his letter to the Christian community at Corinth in Greece speaks about the presence of the Risen Christ not only in the bread we break but also in one another.
We are all one human family. The Eucharist symbolizes our oneness.
Sadly, things often appear otherwise, with focus on superficials: on color rather than on character or unity. And yes, we mourn the loss of all who recently lost lives to violence. A Congressional committee last week heard from the brother of George Floyd, and in the same session the sister of Patrick Underwood, a slain law enforcement officer, one of many.
In the Gospel, Jesus says that he is the bread of life. And whoever eats this bread, has eternal life. This “I am” saying is one of the seven “I am” sayings in John that alludes to the divinity of Jesus.
The word of God today focuses on three historical moments. Each is an exodus, a going out.
First, thirteenth century BC. The Hebrews’ escape from their oppressors was a wonder of wonders. Their passage over the sea of reeds is a prototype of liberation from slavery to freedom, from tyranny to democracy. That is why, in the Seder service, Jewish families proclaim: “Therefore it is our duty to thank, praise … and adore the God who did all of these miracles.” Each Passover then becomes a feast of hope.
Next, the exodus of the first century. St. Paul speaks of a tradition handed on. The lamb that God ordered the Hebrews to eat prefigures “the lamb who takes away the sins of the world,” Jesus Christ. The bread and wine are the real presence of the living Christ, “flesh and blood,” given for and to us.
Jesus’s last supper begins his exodus or “going out” from this earthly life back to his heavenly Father. This passage is marked with blood, thorns, spit, whippings, nails in his hands and feet. Hence, to eat and drink is to proclaim his death until he comes again. Each Eucharist is a feast of hope which deepens our expectation that the messiah will come again at the end-time.
Third, our exodus today. In another passage of John’s Gospel, Jesus washes the feet of his disciples at his last supper and says: “What I just did was to give you an example: as I have done, so you must do.” “Going out” in service is the essence of the Body of Christ.
The purpose of the Eucharist is to form us into a vibrant faith community. Yes, the Eucharist is the real presence of the living Christ, gloriously alive among us sacramentally and mystically. But it is an empty gesture unless we go out from the table of the Lord to feed the hungers of so many people—for bread, for justice, for peace, for truth and for God. To paraphrase an old hymn: Christ has no hands but our hands to do His work today. We must be present to others especially by being men and women of moral character. A person of character will try to choose what is true and good and right in all decisions, small and great, that affect family, work, career, and social life, the raising of children, relationships with others, even leisure time. Then we will experience our own exodus or “going out.” The God who dwells in us will grace us so that we can bring the God of hope and love to others. Amen.
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