Back on July 29th, we began John’s account of the feeding of the 5000. Scripture scholars tell us that unlike the Gospels of Mark, Matthew and Luke, in which Jesus instituted the Eucharist at the Last Supper, in the Gospel of John, Jesus institutes the Eucharist at the feeding of the 5000. Jesus takes the barley loaves, gives thanks to God, breaks them, then multiplies the loaves and the fish and has the apostles distribute the food to the 5000 people who were there. What has followed these past weekends in the Gospel is Jesus’ teaching on the Eucharist.
If we have listened carefully over the past 4 weeks, the consistent theme Jesus preaches to the crowd is that if they want everlasting life, they must eat his Body and drink his Blood. The crowd is struggling with what Jesus is saying. “How can this be?” they ask. “We know his mom and dad. (factiously) He played shortstop on our baseball team. Now he is telling us that if we want everlasting life we must eat his Body and drink his Blood? How can this be?” We can observe this scene from the year 2018 and criticize the crowd for their disbelief in Jesus. However, if we are to be honest with ourselves, sometime in our life, we, too, have questioned the real presence of Jesus in the holy communion we receive at Mass.
I remember the time I asked the question, “How can this be?” I was 12 years old and at the weekly school Mass at St Peter and St Paul school, when I questioned the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist. Like all entering adolescence, I began questioning a lot of what had been taught me. I was not just boing to believe because someone told me to believe. I had to own the belief. The question I asked myself that day at Mass was, “Is the Body and Blood of Jesus really in the host, or have I been told a fairy tale all these years?” I was just like the crowd that said to Jesus two weeks ago in the Gospel, “What sign can you do, that we may see and believe in you? What can you do?” Or, like the apostle Thomas, who doubted the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. I, too, would have insisted upon putting my finger into the nail holes of his hands and feet, and my fist in the wound in his side. I adopted what could be best described as a “let’s wait and see if this is all true” way of evaluating what was true and what was not. While I did not fully understand what I received when I went to Holy Communion, I, instinctively knew it was important for me, so I kept going to Mass on Sunday. Secondarily, I also knew that my mom and dad would kill me if I didn’t go to Mass on Sunday.
In the Constitution of the Sacred Liturgy, the Church teaches that the Eucharist is the font from which all grace pours forth into the world. When we celebrate Mass the grace pours from this Mass into our lives, and we take that grace out into the world. The Church teaches that in our celebration of the Mass and in our receiving Holy Communion, the brokenness of our lives is healed, our sins are forgiven, and we are empowered to go forth and be the Body of Christ in our world. Though I was not aware of it at the time, as I look back on my questioning youth, I can see the power of the Eucharist working in my life. How my faithful attendance at Mass and receiving Holy Communion helped to shape my life into becoming a better person, and, assisted me in making the good choices I might not have made on my own.
We hear Jesus telling us in the Gospel today, “Just as the living Father sent me and I have life because of the Father, so also the one who feeds on me will have life because of me.” We hear in the Book of Wisdom, “Come, eat of my food, and drink of the wine I have mixed! Forsake foolishness that you may live; advance in the way of understanding.” The Eucharist is our spiritual food. The grace we receive at Mass assists us in navigating the complexities and the difficulties of our life. Why would we ever choose to starve ourselves spiritually? Why would we choose to be spiritually anorexic?
There is no more powerful sign of the life that Jesus gives us in holy communion than that of giving Holy Communion to those who are sick and to those who are dying. I see a hunger for the Eucharist when I go and visit those who are homebound. As they receive Holy Communion, a peaceful calm comes over them as they are joined in communion with the God who created them. Even though those who suffer from dementia, know at that moment when they receive Holy Communion, it is Jesus they receive. For that instant, the presence of their Savior clears away, momentarily, the confusion in their minds. It was not by accident that over 60 years ago, the Church restored Viaticum as the Last Rites of the dying. Viaticum means “food for the journey.” Those who are dying do not need the anointing of the sick because they are dying. What they need is the food sent down from heaven, the Body and Blood of Jesus, as they transition from this life into the fullness of life.
This great teaching on the Eucharist in the Gospel of John concludes next weekend. We will find people making a choice. Many of those who followed Jesus, who ate the loaves and the fish, will walk away from him unable or unwilling to wrestle with this teaching of Jesus. Jesus will then turn to his apostles and ask them what they choose to do.
I encourage you, throughout this week, to reflect on when you owned the belief of Jesus’ real presence in the Eucharist and what compels you to come every Sunday to Mass and be fed at the table of the Lord.
