Eating Jesus’ flesh and drinking His blood is the way to remain in Jesus and Him in us

John 6:51–58

I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.”

The Jews quarreled among themselves, saying, “How can this man give us [his] flesh to eat?” Jesus said to them,

“Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you.

Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day.

For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink.

Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him.

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.

This is the bread that came down from heaven. Unlike your ancestors who ate and still died, whoever eats this bread will live forever.”

These things he said while teaching in the synagogue in Capernaum.

Notes:

“Eats”—the verb used in verses 54-58 is not the classical Greek verb used of human eating, but that of animal eating: “munch,” “gnaw.” This may be part of John’s emphasis on the reality of the flesh and blood of Jesus (cf. Jn 6:55), but the same verb eventually became the ordinary verb in Greek meaning “eat.”

Music Meditations

Come, Thou Font of Every Blessing
Halleluya! We Sing Your Praises—OCP Session Choir
Gift of Finest Wheat
Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring—Josh Groban and others

Opening Prayer

Adapted from Pope Benedict XVI:

Help us to rediscover you, O Lord. You are God with a human face. When we seek you, find you, follow you, Jesus, we indeed see God.

You are our everlasting gift.

Companions for the Journey

This is taken from “First Impressions” 2009, a preaching service of the Southern Dominican Province.

John’s gospel does not have the institution of the Eucharist at the Last Supper. The three Synoptics do, so John, the last gospel written, presumes we know that story. What John has in chapter 6 to is the “Bread of Life Discourse.” In the discourse the theme of Wisdom (verses 35 – 50) is blended with the eucharistic theme – as seen in today’s reading. The language in today’s section of the Discourse shifts, with the occurrence of words like: “eat,” “food,” “drink,” “flesh,” “blood.” The language has become literal, even crude. Jesus’ realism in this passage stirs controversy among his listeners. “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?”

We have heard these expressions so frequently in our liturgical, biblical and faith language and have become accustomed to them. But we miss the shock value they had on their original hearers. Today’s gospel captures some of the impact of Jesus’ words on his contemporaries. The crowds take Jesus’ words literally and later we behold that many of his own disciples turn away from him because of what he said. That there should be arguments over the meaning of Jesus’s words should not surprise us: we still have disagreements among Christian denominations over how to interpret what he meant.

The “Bread of Life Discourse” was prompted by Jesus’ feeding the crowd with real bread. That got their attention; he satisfied their physical hunger. But that was only a starting point for further conversation about another kind of brea he would give us – himself. This is the bread that would feed our deepest hungers. To convey the reality of that kind of feeding, Jesus’ language becomes more concrete. We will hear it again at this Eucharist: “Take... and eat, this is my body. Take... and drink, this is my blood.”

Is there anything Jesus is holding back from us? How much more could he give than his “flesh and blood” -- his whole self? Can we hear in Jesus’s words and self-giving how close God wants to get to us? God’s very life mingles with our lives so that our lives can become one with God’s. Jesus makes that promise to us: eating his flesh and drinking his blood gives us eternal life – not only life on and on forever, as much as deep life – full life -- right now. No waiting, eternal life begins now!

Let’s hope that the eating and drinking we do at the Eucharist today will jar our memories so that we remember and act on Jesus’ teachings. Let’s also hope that this meal keeps us connected to the One who gave himself so that we can begin to share now in God’s gift of eternal life. The food and drink, the body and blood, we eat and drink should draw us believers closer together as a community. Jesus’ reference to his blood refers to the life he will pour out for us on the cross. We who partake in the meal are challenged to look beyond ourselves, as he did, to see the needs of the world around us for which he gave his life. We eat and drink because we believe. Others should see that faith enfleshed in our words and actions. We cannot live Jesus’ life without eating from the table he has set for us -- his body and blood. So, let us, the hungry, approach the table Wisdom has set for us at this Eucharist.

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

If you do not eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you will not have life in you.

Living the Good News

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

Are theological questions ever a distraction so that people can evade the implications of what they are hearing?
How can Jesus give us his flesh to eat?
Are we slightly repulsed by the image of eating the flesh of Jesus? (as the Jews were)?
How do I experience the Eucharist?
How central ls it in my life?
How has this concept divided Christian denominations?
Do I believe that Jesus becomes part of me and I become part of Him through the gift of the Eucharist?
How would you describe your spiritual life... Satisfying? Malnourished? Starving?
What do you do and where do you go to feed your spirit?
In what ways do we try to satisfy our thirst for understanding?? (theology, philosophy, prayer, openness of spirit being with those in need, etc.)
What does Holy Wisdom offer us?
To what sort of people does wisdom extend an invitation?
To what sort of people does Jesus extend an invitation to partake in His very self?
What do we have to do to earn it?
This discourse comes after Jesus has fed everyone with real bread. What does that tell us about what our priority should be in evangelizing to others?
What is the role of real hunger in human experience?
What is the role of spiritual hunger in human experience?
Do I get in this gospel how God wants to get to me, to be with me completely?
Why or why not?
When does eternal life with God begin?
How do we share it?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

This section from John emphasizes the personal relationship of the communicant with Jesus over any community dimension. Read the other, earlier, Gospel accounts (Matt 26:14-16; Mark 14: 10-11; Luke 22: 14-20) and compare their understanding of the Eucharist with that of John. Then compare this passage to the instructions given to the Corinthians by St. Paul (1 Corinthians 11). Which of these is closest to your understanding of the Eucharist?

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

From Sacred Space, a service of the Irish Jesuits:

There was once a king who engaged a street artist to make a painting of the Last Supper. He wanted a picture of Jesus and his friends at their farewell meal for his banqueting room. The artist had Jesus and his friends around the supper table, but he also included all kinds of people around the table, showing people from many races. There were people who were sick, lame and crippled; men and women; young and old; beggars and misfits and some not very nice people. When the King saw the painting he went into a rage, and shouted at the artist, ‘Of what is this a painting?’ The artist said ‘Your Highness, this is a painting of God who delights in all people:; all saints and all sorts are welcomed to the Kingdom and the earthly banquet...and that is my understanding of the Last Supper, Holy Communion and Eucharist.’

Personal Meditation:

Paul Crowley, S.J., taught the two CC@S classes through the religious studies department several years ago. At the time of this homily, he was battling a very serious disease, (which ultimately caused his death shortly after this homily was delivered) and sent this section to his friends and family. I thought people might like to have it:

We do not need to live to see all our desires—personal and otherwise—fully realized. We need only ask: What more can I do with what remains of this precious life that I have been given? Even if I am sixteen, sixty, eighty—or even if I am dying? Help me—help us—look beyond the earthly bread that can satisfy only a little, and toward the Bread that alone can satisfy beyond imagining—the Bread that leaves us asking not for more from God, in a spirit of anxiety, but rather what more can we give to God, in a spirit of gratitude.

The Psalmist poses all this as a simple question, and one that we might turn around in our hearts: “What return can I possibly make to the Lord for all of his goodness to me?” (Ps 116).

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

Theology is important; it helps us understand the mystery that is God, the mystery of God’s gift to us through Jesus. It helps us take seriously Jesus gift of Himself in the Eucharist. Nonetheless, it is too easy to get caught up in the theology of this Sunday’s gospel, rich as it is, and forget that the Real Presence is an encounter of the heart, and ignore the response that is expected of us in return. This homily by Father Brian Gleeson, CP, is a call to respond to the gift that is the real Jesus in the Eucharist:

HOLY COMMUNION, A PACKAGE DEAL: 20TH SUNDAY B

A homily by Brain Gleeson, CP, from “First Impressions”, a service of the Southern Dominican Province:

The message of Jesus to us today is a promise. He promises to be for us just what he is. He’s our Bread of Life, and he promises to be our nourishment, sustenance and support, all along our journey of life. Unlike some people, perhaps ourselves, Jesus keeps his promises. So today let us move in our thoughts to where he keeps his promise, the Upper Room in Jerusalem. As Jesus is about to take leave of his disciples, and submit to the suffering and death which awaits him, he shows his intention to continue to be present to his friends and followers, but in a new and different way. The new form of his presence will be the bread and wine of a community meal celebrated in his memory. Just as human beings must eat and drink if they are to stay alive, so must the followers of Jesus eat and drink if they are to live by his teachings and example, and remain united with their Lord and one another. In becoming food and drink for their journey to God Jesus adapts himself to the need which all human beings have to both eat and drink in order to stay alive and well. This is to say that the new form of his presence will be one based on nourishment and refreshment, and will involve both eating and drinking. It’s important to remember, however, that communion with Jesus is not simply a private conversation with him. No, it’s a package deal. When we receive and meet the risen Christ in Holy Communion, we are challenged to open our hearts to everyone else who belongs to Jesus, to everyone else who shares the same food and drink in the same meal, and to everyone else who forms one body with him.

We are challenged to love others as he loves them. For this reason some words that have been put on the lips of Jesus by an anonymous writer seem very much to the point. Let’s hear him saying those words to you and me now:

I tried to catch your attention this morning. Remember when you came back to your seat and closed your eyes and put your head down and talked and talked to me? I wanted you to listen. I wanted to tell you to open your eyes and look at my broken body all around you. I tried to catch your attention that time the toddler stood on the seat and spoke to you, but you gave me a dirty look and humiliated me and didn't hear me. I was the unmarried mother at the end of your seat, the old man in front of you, the family of seven children across the aisle from you - and I almost had the impression you disapproved of me. I was the woman in the green coat whose husband left her this week and whose heart was being eaten out right through Mass, and a friendly smile or word would have been a little support to me. I am your wife who cooked the lunch and coped with the children and all the burdens of the house while you read the Sunday newspaper and then went out. I am your husband and your children and you stamped and huffed and gave us your cold silent treatment for three and a half long hours after Mass. You blackened and deadened the whole atmosphere of our home. I am your mother and father and you have ignored and mocked and criticized and tortured as only a teenager knows how. I am your teenage son whom you've lost belief in and your nagging is driving me crazy. I am your next-door neighbor whom you spend so much time gossiping about and criticizing. I am your fellow parishioner whom you meet every day in the street and you ignore me, busy about your own concerns. And it sickens me, all the coldness, all the squabbling and division and those endless running battles that scourge me and crown me with thorns. And then you pierce my side at Holy Communion with your empty words of love. If you love me, feed my sheep, my starving sheep, and start in your own home. Please don't keep me at bay any longer. Don't talk to me. Listen. I don't want you to go on loving my spirit and ignoring my body. I don't want you to open your mouth to receive my body and close your eyes and ears to shut it out. When will you understand that you cannot have Holy Communion with me if you don't have communion with your brothers and sisters in your own family and parish? Stop thinking of me as some kind of spiritual being in the skies. I am one with these people and you cannot have me without them. On the last day, I won't ask you how many times you went to Mass - that is not your holiness. I will ask how your own family and neighbors fared, how your spouse and children grew in love and faith. How did they live their Mass? Please. Open your eyes and ears. Stop, look and listen, and make time for me by making time for them.

Poetic Reflection:

This is a beautiful reflection on the power of the Eucharist and the power of the Eucharistic community:

"Gather the People"

What return can we make
for all the Lord has done in our lives?
We bring bread, wine, our clay dishes
and our clay feet
to this altar
and we pray that we may here
make a beginning—
that somehow in our days
we can begin to see the promises
the Lord has made us.

The promises do not always
glow with obvious light, or
overwhelm us by their obvious truth.
No matter what anyone says,
it is difficult to understand an invisible God
and belief is not always
the easy way out.

So we gather the people
and we tell the story again
and we break the bread
and in the memory of the one
who saves us,
we eat and drink
and we pray and we believe.

We gather, we pray, we eat.
These things are for human beings.
God has no need of them.
Yet he himself gathered the people,
prayed, broke bread
and gave it to his friends.

And so the invisible God became
visible
and lives with us.

—Ed Ingebretzen, S.J., from Psalms of the Still Country

Closing Prayer

Lord, we live two lives: flesh and spirit. Both are deeply intertwined as is the gift of your body and blood. Help us, through faith in your love and your legacy, to balance the earthly and the eternal as we journey toward you. Give us nourishment for our daily journey and keep us ever close to you, the Bread of Life.

Weekly Reflections

20th Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 18, 2024