51 I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”
52 The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” 53 So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. 54 Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. 55 For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. 56 Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. 57 As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever feeds on me, he also will live because of me. 58 This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like the bread the fathers ate, and died. Whoever feeds on this bread will live forever.”
Luke 14:25–33 ESV – Bible Gateway
When it comes to reflecting on scripture, we can but skim the surface and rely on saints who have dived more deeply in scripture to our advantage. To look at the mystery revealed in the Bread of Life discourse, even lightly skimming the surface, reveals much.
John Bergsma looks at one aspect of the Eucharist, invoking both joy and sorrow:
Our reflection on these Scripture passages for Corpus Christi should cause us great joy, first of all, for God’s tremendous provision for our needs, both physical and spiritual, the greatest sign of which is his daily gift of the Eucharist, the Flesh of his own Son, for us.
At the same time, we should feel sorrow because the Eucharist is a call for the unity of all Christians (see the Second Reading) as well as call for our own unity with the Son and the Father (see the Gospel). The Eucharist represents and causes our unity with the Holy Trinity (celebrated last week), which it signifies. Yet so often we do not live or act in a way that would inspire our family members or co-workers to think, He lives in Christ, and Christ lives in him. May we use the opportunity provided by the Masses this weekend to pray that our thoughts, words, and behavior in this coming week and the rest of our lives may make more visible our union with Christ through this Sacrament.[1]
In Matthew 10:34, Jesus references the divisive nature of truth and that there will be divisions even within our own households. This discourse in John later references that some of his disciples would leave him over this teaching. The Eucharist continues to divide. There are those who accept Jesus’ teaching and his promise and those who diminish it as just a symbol or something lesser than the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus. It is a strange reversal to see the Eucharist as less miraculous than the manna given during the Exodus. Nobody saw the manna as just a symbol, they were nourished and thrived on it.
Brant Pitre on the Catholic emphasis on the Eucharist:
Again, notice here this line where he says “whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. This is a very important verse. Sometimes nonCatholic Christians, our separated brothers and sisters, say “why do you Catholics make so much out of the Eucharist” or “why do you insist on receiving the Eucharist frequently, like daily even with daily Mass.” The answer is simple, because Jesus himself said that “if you eat his flesh and drink his blood, he will abide in you and you will abide in him.” So if you want to abide in Christ you need to receive his body and his blood in the Eucharist. And if you want Christ to abide in you—and I can’t think of any Christian who would say “I don’t want Jesus to abide in me”—then we need to receive his body and blood, we need to eat his flesh and drink his blood under the form of food and drink, which is of course the Eucharist.[2]
As Jesus continues on, not only does he not back down on the implication of Eucharistic realism, he effectively doubles down on it as Steve Ray shows:
In this discourse it seem as if Jesus is being overly difficult and desires to scare off his disciples unnecessarily. At this point, he speaks extremely hard words to them, seemingly asking them to become cannibals, and, as a result, most of them turn away in disgust and leave him. The word translated “eat” (trōgein) is not a dignified word used to describe fine dining, but is the Greek verb for “gnaw” and “munch” and could be translated “masticating the flesh”. The use of trōgein certainly emphasizes “the realism of the eucharistic flesh and blood.” “This offense”, according to Cullmann, “belongs now to the Sacrament just as the ❲offense of the❳ human body belongs to the ❲divine❳ Logos.”[3]
This language invoked an even stronger reaction from some of his followers. From the Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture for this Gospel:
The Jews react more strongly than before. They quarreled (literally, “fought”) among themselves over Jesus’ statement about eating his flesh. Jesus’ command to eat his flesh, and later to drink his blood, is appalling to his hearers. The Torah expressly forbade the eating of blood or of flesh with any blood left in it (Lev 17:14; 19:26; Deut 12:23); eating human flesh would be unthinkable.[4]
It is easy to sit back with the distance of time and think of the foolishness of the disciples who rejected this teaching and walked away. Many of them had seen Jesus perform miracles and had seen him teach with authority as no person had done before. It seems their cultural biases kept them from considering that his teaching could be a great mystery and a great truth. Let he who has never made a hot take, cast the first stone. I like to think that some of those disciples who walked away later returned.
I find it amazing how much Jesus trusts us with the truth. He reveals the Trinity to us, knowing how it would become the source of so many heresies to those wanting to amplify one aspect that they accept. The simplifiers approach a mystery and reject all they can’t quickly understand. Jesus gives himself in the Eucharist, knowing how many will reject him in the Sacrament.
We sometimes hear of surveys regarding Catholic belief in the Eucharist and the low percentage of people who accept this teaching. While it is true, as I have found, that the survey questions on this subject are not well crafted, there is a more accurate survey result we can look at. How many Catholics go to Mass on Sunday and Holy Days of obligation? Depending of country and region, this is shockingly low. Can you say you believe in the Eucharist and then don’t make it to Mass for some trivial reason, other than valid reasons such as sickness or caring for others? When we look at this obligation and wish it fitted in with our schedule better. Or Mass becomes a rote obligation and not a desire to worship the Lord and receive him in the sacrament? Do we look for opportunities to go to Daily Mass if possible?
Just judging from my experience, it is easy to fall into this even if we fully accept and have some understanding of the source and summit of our faith. I reflected on some of this during the Covid lockdown as they prevented us from going to Mass. I promised myself I would never again complain about the time and access to Mass once the lockdown was lifted. I have not kept that promise perfectly, but when those thoughts come to mind, I am much quicker to shut them down and smother them in gratitude to being able to go to Mass daily.
In the United States, we have an ongoing program of Eucharistic Revival that takes into consideration some of this. The critic in me has a thousand suggestions for why they are doing it wrong or that no revival ever came from a bureaucracy, especially an ecclesial bureaucracy. Instead, I asked myself what I could do to increase my own Eucharistic piety, no matter how small. Constant reminders to myself of the thankfulness I should hold in awe and wonder. It is a constant project not to receive the Eucharist perfunctory. God keeps lifting us up to try again.
Peter Kreeft looks at the works for “life” used here:
There are two Greek words for “life.” One, bios, means natural, mortal life. The other, zoe, means supernatural, eternal life. That’s the word Christ uses here. When we receive Christ in the Eucharist, our bios changes into zoe, just as in the Eucharist the bread and wine miraculously change into Christ’s Body and Blood. It is as miraculous as a frog changing into a prince in the fairy tales. It is like Pinocchio changing from a wooden puppet to a living boy. At the very heart and essence of Christianity is this astonishing miracle.[5]
Sometimes I will look at St. Thomas Aquinas’ Catena Aurea, where he links up scriptural passages with the writings of the Church Fathers and other ecclesiastical writers. The quotes for this passage from John are overwhelming in regards Eucharistic realism.
Last year I read Erick Ybarra’s “Melchizedek and the Last Supper: Biblical and Patristic Evidence for the Sacrifice of the Mass” which had a plethora of quotes involving Eucharistic realism, and I am not using “plethora” lightly here. The collection of quotes is amazing.
Sources
- The Word of the Lord: Reflections on the Sunday Mass Readings for Year A – John Bergsma
- Catholic Productions, Commentaries by Brant Pitre
- St. John’s Gospel: A Bible Study Guide and Commentary for Individuals and Groups: Ray, Stephen K.
- The Gospel of John (Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture)
- Peter Kreeft, Food for the Soul: Reflections on the Mass Readings Cycle A
- Catena Aurea: Commentary on the Four Gospels, Collected out of the Works of the Fathers, Volume 4: St. John – Verbum
- Melchizedek and the Last Supper
- Photo by Ben White on Unsplash
- The Word of the Lord: Reflections on the Sunday Mass Readings for Year A, John Bergsma, Corpus Christi ↩
- Catholic Productions, Brant Pitre, Year A, Corpus Christi ↩
- St. John’s Gospel: A Bible Study Guide and Commentary for Individuals and Groups. Steve Ray, 2002 ↩
- Francis Martin, William M. Wright IV, The Gospel of John (Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture) ↩
- Peter Kreeft, Food for the Soul: Reflections on the Mass Readings Cycle A, Corpus Christi ↩
