21st Sunday 2012
Fr. Robert VerEecke, S.J.
For the past 5 Sundays we have been listening to the bread of life discourse
from John’s Gospel. Fortunately I didn’t have to preach for two of those
Sundays. One Sunday I was on vacation and one Sunday on retreat. I had to
listen to someone else for a change. I didn’t have to try to make sense of a
teaching that for two thousand years has been difficult to follow or, in the
case of the bread of life, hard to swallow. Some parts of this long discourse
are easier to accept. For example, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to
me shall not hunger and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”
There’s something in this verse that opens our minds and hearts. Something
in us stirs as we hear it. “I am the bread of life.” OK. There’s an
expansiveness about this phrase “I am the bread of life” that expands
outward like the multiplication of the loaves.
But other parts of the discourse make us want to scratch our heads and say
“huh?” You’re not really serious with this, are you? “And they disputed
among themselves, ‘how can this man give us his flesh to eat?’” “Unless
you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in
you. For my flesh is true food and my blood true drink.” The expansive
saying “I am the bread of life” contracts into the more disturbing,
confounding “unless you eat the flesh of the son of Man and drink his
blood,” “flesh and blood.” Eating and drinking flesh and blood is a very
hard saying. No wonder so many of the first followers of Jesus found his
teaching too hard to swallow and walked away.
But after this lengthy discourse on the bread of life that portrays Jesus in a
way that is enigmatic, strange, even off-putting, we have one of the most
poignant dialogues in all of the Gospels, if not all of the scriptures. Jesus
asks the question of his closest friends. “Will you too leave me?” I guess this
is part of the Johannine portrayal of Jesus who confounds us with his
teaching, whose divinity outshines his humanity but who is profoundly
human. Here at the end of this theological discourse, the gospel writer has
Jesus asking this very heart-felt question: “Will you too leave me?” This is
not unlike some other very intimate moments in John’s gospel where the
humanity of Jesus is revealed. (In the story of Lazarus, “And Jesus wept.”
Or at the tomb, when Jesus speaks Mary Magdalene’s name and she
responds, “Rabbouni.”
Again, after this long theological discourse that leaves many befuddled,
disturbed, skeptical, comes the very personal question, “Will you too leave
me?” Peter, who usually says the wrong thing and puts his foot in his mouth,
says the words that must have brought comfort to Jesus: “Lord to whom
shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe
that you are the Holy One of God.”
What I would like to suggest for your reflection this morning is that when
you come right down to it, our desire for the Eucharist is about a person and
not a dogma, a theological teaching. It is our desire to be in communion with
Jesus, the Christ that draws us to the Eucharist. When we ask for clear
answers that will make sense of the mystery “this bread is my flesh for the
life of the world,” and when we get answers that obfuscate more than clarify
(transubstantiation) we will most likely not be satisfied and may find
spiritual nourishment some place else. But if the person of Jesus is so
compelling, if we hear him saying to each of us, “Here is my life for you,
take and eat, take and drink,” then perhaps when we hear him say to us “will
you too leave me?” we will answer with Peter, “Lord to whom shall we go?”
For so many people in the world, Jesus is a historical figure, a good man
who tried to make a difference. He is in a class with Moses, Mohammed,
Buddha and other spiritual teachers. His teachings may be compelling but
his person is not. At least not in the way that echoes the words of Peter:
“Who else shall we follow? You have the words of eternal life. We have
come to believe you are the Holy One of God.”
Let me invite you to think for a moment of your first Eucharist, your first
communion with the body and blood of Christ, his flesh and blood for the
life of the world. What were you thinking? For me it’s a long time ago, but I
still remember, “I am Jesus. I am for you.” As children, it seems to be easier
to simply open ourselves to the wonder that Jesus loves us so much that he
would want us to share his life in this most intimate way. And today as you
come to receive the body and blood of Christ, the bread of life and the cup of
salvation, will you be thinking about theological explanations or
transubstantiation? I doubt it. Your Amen is: Yes, I believe. I don’t
understand fully. I understand very little but I do know that you love me and
you have the words of eternal life.
At this point, if we were in Jamaica at St Anne’s parish, we would all stand
up and sing a Chorus. Like. Oh I love that man, from Galillee. For he has
done so very much for me. He has taken away my sins and sent the Holy
Ghost within. I love, I love that man from Galilee.