BEING BREAD

 

JESUS THE BREAD OF LIFE 

Today is the Solemnity of The Body and Blood of Christ. Corpus Christi. 

During this week the mass lectionary has led us through Chapter 6 of John’s gospel, the so-called “Bread of Life Chapter.” After recounting the miracle of the loaves and fishes, John continues with such familiar passages as:

35 Jesus said to them, ‘I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty. …48 I am the bread of life. 49Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. 50 This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. 51 I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live for ever; 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, ‘Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. 54 Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; 55 for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. 56 Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. 57 Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me. 58This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live for ever’  (John Ch. 6).

SLEEPING WITH BREAD 

There’s a little book entitled Sleeping with Bread by Dennis Linn et. al. The title comes from at story told at the beginning of the book: “During the bombing raids of WWII, thousands of children were orphaned and left to starve. The fortunate ones were rescued and placed in refugee camps where they received food and good care. But many of these children who had lost so much could not sleep at night. They feared waking up to find themselves once again homeless and without food. Nothing seemed to reassure them. Finally, someone hit upon the idea of giving each child a piece of bread to hold at bedtime. Holding their bread, these children could finally sleep in peace. All through the night the bread reminded them, 'Today I ate and I will eat again tomorrow.'”

As I listened to the readings from the “Bread of Life Chapter” this week I kept seeing the image of those little war orphans sleeping peacefully in their beds, each holding on to a piece of bread. For those suffering children the bread meant much more than calories and carbohydrates. It was a promise, an encouragement. In the midst of a chaotic war-torn world, the bread was a reassuring, palpable presence, the gift of hope for tomorrow. When Christ says, “I am the bread of life,” isn’t he giving himself to us as a promise, an encouragement, a reassuring palpable presence, the gift of hope for tomorrow?

BEING BREAD

But there’s more to this “bread of life” business than Jesus’ giving himself to us in the Holy Eucharist. For one thing, remember that where the other three gospels have Jesus instituting the Eucharist at the Last Supper, the Gospel of John does not. Instead it tells how Jesus washed the feet of his disciples (Jn 13:3 ff.). The episode ends with Jesus commanding the apostles: "14 So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. 15 For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you” (Jn Ch. 13).

Jesus Washing Feet

The readings at this time of the liturgical year are full of such commands, commissions and sendings. The angelic messengers at the tomb tell the women, “Go, tell the disciples…,” the disciples are commanded "Go into Galilee,"and the risen Lord appears to the disciples and gives them the commission to “Go forth into the whole world…” The first reading today (Friday) was the story of Saul’s conversion on the Road to Damascus; once again someone’s life is interrupted by a peremptory command from the Lord: "Stop what you’re doing and go do this for me."

Combining the themes of the Bread of Life and of these various “sendings”, it's easy for us to imagine Jesus saying to us, his followers, “I am the bread of life, and now you have to go forth and be bread as well. In the midst of a chaotic materialistic world, be bread for one another, be a reassuring, palpable presence, be the gift of hope for tomorrow for your brothers and sisters.  I want you to be bread for one another."

I preached on this theme in the homily at today’s community mass. On the way to the sacristy after mass I passed a basket on a table in the gathering area in the back of church. A hand-lettered a sign on the basket is labeled simply “Food Pantry.” The basket was overflowing with canned goods and a big box of Special K. I smiled as I thought to myself, "Well, it’s not exactly bread, but some of our parishioners sure know a great way to be bread for the poor families in our neighborhood.”

As I continued toward the sacristy I started wondering who I'm supposed to be bread for in the next day or two. Hmm... Maybe it's you?

HOW SMALL IS YOUR GOD?

In Richard Rohr's "Things Hidden: Scripture as Spirituality," (which I highly recommend), on page 148 he offers an example of how God forgives and transforms us. Here are a few lines:

Paul, of course, in the New Testament, is presented as a transformed accuser, a converted persecutor, maybe even a mass-murderer, whom we now call a saint. No one had been more pious, Jewish and law-abiding than Paul (Philippians 3:5-16). He was a perfect Pharisee, as he said, and suddenly he realized that in the name of love he had become hate, in the name of religion he had become a murderer, in the name of goodness he had become evil.

Paul was set up to recognize the dark side of religion, the scapegoating mechanism, the self-serving laws of small religion. He went global and that changed everything, and is probably why most of us are reading the bible today." 148

During the Easter season the daily mass lectionary took us through the story of the early church with readings from the Acts of the Apostles, so we're familiar with the story of Saul's conversion as well as the opposition of the Pharisees and Scribes. One phrase in the above passage caught my eye, however, and gave me pause: "the self-serving laws of small religion." 

What does "small religion" look like? I'm afraid that a description might start hitting pretty close to home for some of us. "Small religion" limits God's sphere of action to members of the particular in-group, those who have the legal formulas for pleasing God and the moral laws which, if obeyed, guarantee one's entrance into eternal reward. 

The first Christians were, as we know, all Jewish. When non-Jews began being converted to Christ and seeking Baptism, these Jewish Christians faced a momentous decision: Should non-Jews be required to become Jews first and follow Jewish dietary laws and observe the sabbath? The principles of "small religion" were telling many of these Jewish Christians to insist that any convert must observe Jewish laws (Acts 15:1). 

But Peter, Paul and others, seeing how the Holy Spirit had come down upon these gentile converts, insisted that there be no such restrictions placed on the gentile converts. Thanks in great part to Paul, who had once been a champion of "small religion," the temptation to make Christianity a "small religion" of exclusivity and self-serving laws had been overcome, and the Good News could then begin to spread throughout the Gentile world with a speed that still to this day amazes even atheistic historians and scholars.  

To what extent is my religion a "small religion?" The answer is not a matter of black-or-white, but one of degree. For example, to what extent am I so preoccupied with obeying rules and regulations that I overlook any intimate personal relationship with God? To what extent is my God a fearsome enforcer who punishes us sinners (the contrary of the loving Father revealed to us by Jesus in the parables)? What is my God's attitude toward atheists, or Buddhists or Jews or Protestants or folks of a different political viewpoint? To what extent is my religion confined merely to Church and its clear boundaries, obligations, authority structure and so forth? I'm afraid that there are Catholics who take great comfort in the "small religion" aspects of our Church and ignore the saving message of the Universal Christ who came to save the whole of humanity. We could all do well to listen to the message of a certain visionary priest and scholar.

 

The French Jesuit, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955), was a priest, scientist, paleontologist, theologian and philosopher who taught that the idea of evolution was at the center of God's ongoing plan for the world, and that everything in the universe was taking part in this development; the Universal Christ and his mystical body were part of this evolution that was heading toward one ultimate goal. 

Since tomorrow is the feast of Corpus Christi, it seems appropriate to share with you some of his thinking on the subject of the Holy Eucharist.

His vision of the Holy Eucharist is a perfect antidote to "small religion's" view of the world. When he gazed at the host as he elevated it during mass, he saw not God captured in a small wafer of bread for the benefit of the people attending mass, but saw rather a point from which infinite energy of divine love radiated out  beyond the farthest galaxies into the entire universe, and into every electron and every atom in every molecule in the universe. This is not "small religion!" He encourages us to see ourselves as members of the Body of the Universal Christ, the One who loves all of creation with unbounded love. This is the Christ that Saint Paul spent the rest of his life preaching.

May the graces of the Holy Eucharist open our hearts and minds to this vision of a universal Christ and a universal Church!

Chardin could hardly have imagined the universe shown in this 2024 photograph!

BREAD OF LIFE

 

JESUS THE BREAD OF LIFE 

Tomorrow's Solemnity of The Body and Blood of Christ ("Corpus Christi,' sendsme back to a theme I've blogged about before, but which I think is worth revisiting. 

Let's begin with Chapter 6 of John’s gospel, the so-called “Bread of Life Chapter.” After recounting the miracle of the loaves and fishes, John continues with such familiar passages as:

35 Jesus said to them, ‘I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty. …48 I am the bread of life. 49Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. 50 This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. 51 I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live for ever; 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, ‘Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. 54 Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; 55 for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. 56 Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. 57 Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me. 58This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live for ever’  (John Ch. 6).

SLEEPING WITH BREAD 

There’s a little book entitled Sleeping with Bread by Dennis Linn et. al. The title comes from at story told at the beginning of the book: “During the bombing raids of WWII, thousands of children were orphaned and left to starve. The fortunate ones were rescued and placed in refugee camps where they received food and good care. But many of these children who had lost so much could not sleep at night. They feared waking up to find themselves once again homeless and without food. Nothing seemed to reassure them. Finally, someone hit upon the idea of giving each child a piece of bread to hold at bedtime. Holding their bread, these children could finally sleep in peace. All through the night the bread reminded them, 'Today I ate and I will eat again tomorrow.'”

As I listened to the readings from the “Bread of Life Chapter” this week I kept seeing the image of those little war orphans sleeping peacefully in their beds, each holding on to a piece of bread. For those suffering children the bread meant much more than calories and carbohydrates. It was a promise, an encouragement. In the midst of a chaotic war-torn world, the bread was a reassuring, palpable presence, the gift of hope for tomorrow. When Christ says, “I am the bread of life,” isn’t he giving himself to us as a promise, an encouragement, a reassuring palpable presence, the gift of hope for tomorrow?

BEING BREAD

But there’s more to this “bread of life” business than Jesus’ giving himself to us in the Holy Eucharist. For one thing, remember that where the other three gospels have Jesus instituting the Eucharist at the Last Supper, the Gospel of John does not. Instead it tells how Jesus washed the feet of his disciples (Jn 13:3 ff.). The episode ends with Jesus commanding the apostles: "14 So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. 15 For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you” (Jn Ch. 13).

Jesus Washing Feet

The readings at this time of the liturgical year are full of such commands, commiss- ons and sendings. The angelic messengers at the tomb tell the women, “Go, tell the disciples…,” the disciples are commanded "Go into Galilee,"and the risen Lord appears to the disciples and gives them the commission to “Go forth into the whole world…” The first reading today (Friday) was the story of Saul’s conversion on the Road to Damascus; once again someone’s life is interrupted by a peremptory command from the Lord: "Stop what you’re doing and go do this for me."

Combining the themes of the Bread of Life and of these various “sendings”, it's easy for us to imagine Jesus saying to us, his followers, “I am the bread of life, and now you have to go forth and be bread as well. In the midst of a chaotic materialistic world, be bread for one another, be a reassuring, palpable presence, be the gift of hope for tomorrow for your brothers and sisters.  I want you to be bread for one another."

I preached on this theme in the homily at today’s community mass. On the way to the sacristy after mass I passed a basket on a table in the gathering area in the back of church. A hand-lettered a sign on the basket is labeled simply “Food Pantry.” The basket was overflowing with canned goods and a big box of Special K. I smiled as I thought to myself, "Well, it’s not exactly bread, but some of our parishioners sure know a great way to be bread for the poor families in our neighborhood.”

As I continued toward the sacristy I started wondering who I'm supposed to be bread for in the next day or two. Hmm... Maybe it's you?
.

MY ROLE AT CANA

The gospel for this Sunday, Jan. 16, 2022, is John's account of the miracle at the wedding feast of Cana (Jn 2:1-11). John's is the only gospel that recounts this beautiful story, so rich in symbolism and encouragement. In this post, however, instead of offering yet one more analysis of the miracle of Jesus' changing water into wine I'd like to offer my own rather offbeat look at the miracle. 

On the Sunday after Christmas, the CCD children of St. Augustine's Parish in Newark presented their annual Christmas pageant, including Roman soldiers, shepherds, angels, magi, as well as Mary and Joseph.  One of the show-stopping moments was the appearance of the Star in the East: the part of the star was a blond five year old girl whose role was to hold up the golden star on a white stick. She seemed to enjoy being the "star" of the pageant.

As I began reflecting on the story of the miracle at Cana this morning, I was about to imagine myself in the role of each of the different characters in the scene: the servants, Mary, and so forth. Then I thought to myself (probably influenced by remembering the little girl who played the part of the star of Bethlehem) "Why not be a water jar?"

So I became one of those six stone jars, holding about thirty gallons of water. A very noble and honest task, if a little humdrum. People hardly notice me sitting here off to the side, minding my own business. Just a big container of well water. But suddenly something happens to me. I don't know how -- it isn't anything that I've done -- but now I've become  source of joy and pleasure for people who encounter me.  My role has changed from being a jar of water to a jar of wonderful wine. 

The gospel tells us that this is the first of Jesus' "signs." I've become, then, a sign of the breaking in of the Kingdom, a sign that the Lord is on the move again, entering history to transform it and us. 

How does this transformation happen? In countless ways, I suppose.  For instance, when I receive theHoly Eucharist I become what I eat. When the Holy Spirit whispers to me in a comment made by a friend, say, or calls to me in the words of some writer, or when I experience someone's loving act toward me. The Lord intends that each of these should transform me. The change is happening over and over, all the time, provided that I'm open to it. 

But there's more: This process of transformation runs in both directions. If the Lord Jesus uses people and events to transform the water of my life into wine, then he asks me, in my role as a jar of wine at the feast to be an active sign of his love for others. Every time I encounter someone, Jesus is asking me to be a sign of his boundless, unconditional love, a source of joy for that person. The bible says somewhere that "wine cheers the heart" of us humans. That's the role the Lord is casting me in right now, to be a source and a cause of joy, to "cheer the heart "of those around me, to be a sign of the Kingdom of Love that has broken in on the world with the arrival of the Messiah.

Will you try out for the role along with me? 

FILLING THE SPACE

 

This past Tuesday, the Solemnity of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, we celebrated the Eucharist with our students from grades 6 through 12. Because of COVID we decided to gather the almost 600 kids for mass outdoors, on our soccer field. Under the warm sun we sang and prayed and listened to the Word of God being proclaimed. 

Six hundred kids at mass.

We instruct the students that when they're reading in public they need to "command the space" or "fill the space with your voice." While this is good advice for speaking in the gym or the auditorium, it becomes curiously challenging when you're outdoors. How do you "fill the space" when you're standing under a clear blue sky? I thought of this as I took in the beautiful scene from my vantage point, my concelebrant's chair. How do we "fill the space" with our celebration of mass? The answer came immediately -- it was the visionary thought of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, a Jesuit priest. My post for August 21 is good background for this post. In it I wrote:

If you know a little about Chardin then you won't be surprised that when he was celebrating mass, he would elevate the consecrated host or the cup and see the power radiating from them not just to the faithful attending that mass but to every human being, all members of Christ, and then further into every living thing, and then to the atoms and molecules that compose every speck of matter in the farthest reaches of the universe.

So as Fr. Edwin, the Headmaster, raised the consecrated host against the vast sky, with the sound of a helicopter and a few trucks as background music, I sensed the power of the Universal Christ radiating from the consecrated bread in every direction, extending farther and farther, past our fences, past the county courthouse and the colleges down the street, past the tall buildings of  Newark's skyline, and radiating instantly to the entire planet and to our galaxy and out beyond the farthest reaches of the stars. Talk about filling the space!

 Here's a quotation from Fr. Chardin's journal, entitled "Mass on the World," which also formed part of my vision that morning:

“To interpret adequately the fundamental position of the Eucharist in the economy of the world . . . it is, I think, necessary that Christian thought and Christian prayer should give great importance to the real and physical extensions of the Eucharistic Presence. . . As we properly use the term “our bodies” to signify the localized center of our spiritual radiations . . ., so it must be said that in its initial and primary meaning the term “Body of Christ” is limited, in this context, to the consecrated species of Bread and Wine. But. . .the host is comparable to a blazing fire whose flames spread out like rays all round it.”

(Photos courtesy of Graybee Ministry)

I hope that we'll be able to have mass outdoors again soon. Maybe including the little ones from our Elementary Division, which would make a thousand voices singing the praise of the Universal Christ who is transforming the world at every instant everywhere in creation. We, as Eucharistic People, are able to participate in the mysterious and beautiful way that Christ in the Eucharist "fills the space" of the entire universe. Starting from our soccer field in downtown Newark.

THE EXPANDING EUCHARIST

 

St. Pius X

August 21 is the memorial of Saint Pius X. His pontificate (1903-1914) was marked by lots of important diplomacy and other significant achievements. He tried desperately to keep Europe from descending into war, but his efforts failed. Within a few months after the outbreak of World War I he died of a broken heart. But he is perhaps best remembered for encouraging the frequent reception of holy communion. At the time of his papacy people would attend mass but would seldom receive the Eucharist. His efforts helped to change that custom, and prepared the way for other reforms that made the Blessed Sacrament more and more accessible to the faithful.

Chardin

Coincidentally, I've been slowly reading my way through "Teilhard de Chardin on the Eucharist: Envisioning the Body of Christ," by Louis Savary. Through reading this book, my understanding of and my attitude toward the Eucharist have been tremendously deepened and expanded. If you know a little about Chardin then you won't be surprised that when he was celebrating mass, he would elevate the consecrated host or the cup and see the power radiating from them not just to the faithful attending that mass but to every human being, all members of Christ, and then further into every living thing, and then to the atoms and molecules that compose every speck of matter in the farthest reaches of the universe

Chardin thinks of Christ under three aspects. The past Christ, who was born in Bethlehem, lived for about 30 years, died and rose again  Then there is the Present Christ, the head of the Mystical Body, who lives in our hearts and is present everywhere. The third aspect of Christ is one that we seldom if ever think of: the Future Christ, the Universal Christ whose power and presence extend to the farthest reaches of the universe, who holds everything in being and who will one day bring all of creation into one single point of Divine Love.

When Chardin as a priest gazed on the consecrated host and the cup, he experienced the presence of all three Christs. But I was especially captivated by his image of the bread and wine being transformed into the presence of the universal Christ. This sent me a couple of times to YouTube to type in "Hubble," the telescope that has extended our view of the universe beyond our imagining. (You should try looking at a couple of these videos yourself.)

The second part of Savary's book about Chardin is composed of suggested meditations based on Chardin's view of the Eucharist. Of course most of us encounter the Eucharist only at mass, but I'm privileged to spend 50 minutes each morning in front of the Eucharist displayed in the monstrance on the altar in the abbey church. The meditations are turning out to be very powerful. For example, gazing at the host and imagining a certain person contained inside it (as we're all members of Christ, this isn't heretical). It may be someone who is sick or in some distress. Then praying for that person and ask the Lord to watch over that person or heal them or give them whatever gift it is that they most need right now. Another meditation involves visualizing the power radiating from the host outward to fill all of creation. 

These meditations are certainly inviting me to expand my idea of the Eucharist far beyond a private, personal welcoming of Jesus into my heart to enjoy His presence. Thanks to Chardin's way of seeing the world and the Universal Christ, my sense of the meaning of the Eucharist is deepening every day. 

Saint Pius X must be gratified to see people sharing in Chardin's deep vision of the power of the Sacrament. 

An enhanced image from NASA of galaxy clusters

SMALL RELIGION, SMALL GOD

 I'm rereading Richard Rohr's "Things Hidden: Scripture as Spirituality," which I highly recommend. On page 148 he offers an example of how God forgives and transforms us. Here are a few lines:

Paul, of course, in the New Testament, is presented as a transformed accuser, a converted persecutor, maybe even a mass-murderer, whom we now call a saint. No one had been more pious, Jewish and law-abiding than Paul (Philippians 3:5-16). He was a perfect Pharisee, as he said, and suddenly he realized that in the name of love he had become hate, in the name of religion he had become a murderer, in the name of goodness he had become evil.

Paul was set up to recognize the dark side of religion, the scape-goating mechanism, the self-serving laws of small religion. He went global and that changed everything, and is probably why most of us are reading the bible today." 148

During the Easter season the daily mass lectionary has been taking us through the story of the early church with readings from the Acts of the Apostles, so we're familiar with the story of Saul's conversion as well as the opposition of the Pharisees and Scribes. One phrase in the above passage caught my eye, however, and gave me pause: "the self-serving laws of small religion." 

What does "small religion" look like? I'm afraid that a description might start hitting pretty close to home for some of us. "Small religion" limits God's sphere of action only to members of the particular in-group, those who have the legal formulas for pleasing God and the moral laws that, if obeyed, guarantee ones entrance into eternal reward. 

The first Christians were, as we know, all Jews. When non-Jews began being converted to Christ and seeking Baptism, these Jewish Christians faced a momentous decision: Should non-Jews be required to become Jews first and follow Jewish dietary laws and observe the sabbath? The principles of "small religion" were telling many of these Jewish Christians to insist that any convert must observe Jewish laws (Acts 15:1). But Peter, Paul and others, seeing how the Holy Spirit had come down upon these gentile converts, insisted that there be no such restrictions placed on the gentile converts. Thanks in great part to Paul, who had once been a champion of "small religion," the temptation to make Christianity a "small religion" of exclusivity and self-serving laws had been overcome, and the Good News could then begin to spread throughout the Gentile world with a speed that still to this day amazes even atheistic historians and scholars.  

To what extent is my religion a "small religion?" The answer is not a matter of black-or-white, but one of degree. For example, to what extent am I so preoccupied with obeying rules and regulations that I overlook any intimate personal relationship with God? To what extent is my God a fearsome enforcer who punishes us sinners (the contrary of the loving Father revealed to us by Jesus in the parables)? What is my God's attitude toward atheists, or Buddhists or Jews or Protestants? To what extent is my religion confined merely to Church and its clear boundaries, obligations, authority structure and so forth? I'm afraid that there are Catholics who take great comfort in the "small religion" aspects of our church, and ignore the saving message of the Universal Christ who came to save the whole of humanity. We could all do well to listen (again?) to the message of a certain visionary priest and scholar. 

The French Jesuit, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955), was a priest, scientist, paleontologist, theologian and philosopher who taught that the idea of evolution was at the center of God's ongoing plan for the world, and that everything in the universe was taking part in this development; the Universal Christ and his mystical body were part of this evolution that was heading toward one ultimate goal. His vision of the Holy Eucharist is a perfect antidote to "small religion's" view of the world.

When he gazed at the host as he elevated it during mass, he saw not God captured in a small wafer of bread for the benefit of the people attending mass, but a point from which infinite energy of divine love radiated out  beyond the farthest galaxies into the entire universe, and into every electron and every atom in every molecule in the universe. This is not "small religion!" He encourages us to see ourselves as members of the Body of the Universal Christ, the One who loves all of creation with unbounded love. This is the Christ that Saint Paul spent the rest of his life preaching.

May the graces of the Easter Season open our hearts and minds to this vision of a universal Christ and a universal Church!

TO BE BREAD

+
This has been a busy few days, especially yesterday, Saturday, as I celebrated the 50th anniversary of my priestly ordination. Here's the homily I gave at the jubilee mass. Several people came up to me afterwards and said that they found it very effective, so I'm sharing it with you.

I once read a story that at the end of World War II Europe was left with thousands of orphans - babies whose parents had been killed in the war. Doctors, nurses and other caregivers set about trying to help these half-starved children to heal both physically and emotionally.

They immediately discovered that a lot of these children couldn’t fall asleep at night.Besides the terrible nightmares, and the frightening memories of pain and separation, it turned out that these little ones, who had almost died of starvation, were terribly afraid of going hungry again. They were haunted by the question: Will there be anything to eat tomorrow? Simply put, they were worried that there wouldn’t be any food the next morning when they woke up.

So, the story goes that one day a nurse got an idea: The next night, as she was tucking the children into bed, she gave each of them a little loaf of bread to hold onto -- and it worked! The little victims of near-starvation fell asleep peacefully, clutching their loaves. That bread was a promise that there would be something to eat tomorrow,

     We’re here this morning celebrating, as we do at every Eucharist, the bread of Promise: It’s a special way  Jesus has of fulfilling his pledge: “ I will be with you always, until the end of time.”  He gave us the Eucharist with the command:  “Do this in memory of me.”

       

And so, for almost 2,000 years Christians have been repeating this ritual in which we make present in a mysterious way Christ’s self-sacrificing love. The church keeps faithfully repeating the ritual keeps making the mystery real again, even in the midst of terrible trials and troubles. Over the centuries the Lord has been with his Church: in the 1,000’s, when Christendom was split down the middle between Easter and Western Churches, or in 15127 when the Protestant Reformation tore western Christendom apart. What is there about us that makes some of us say "Your ideas are different from mine, therefore I must kill you?" Through all her trials, the Church kept listening to Christ’s voice encouraging us,

“Trust me, just keep on repeating this ritual,

Of my self-giving love, until the next time I come,

So that’s what we do: in faith and trust in God, Christians all around the world keep on gathering around the table just the way we are gathered here this morning: To make Christ present on the altar, to celebrate the bread of promise,  and thank the Lord for His gifts.

But today we’re celebrating a specific example of God’s loving faithfulness: You’re joining me in thanking God for being faithful to me during  5o years of priestly service. The word Eucharist, after all, means “Thanksgiving.”

        
Yet there’s a lot more going on here than simply commemorating Christ’s sacrifice, more to it than “giving thanks.” When we come to the banquet and share in the bread, the body and blood of Christ, We are transformed: we become what we receive. The old saying has it, “You are what you eat!” Christ, who has has become our bread on the altar, calls us by this sacrament to love as he loves.  

On a 50th anniversary of someone’s priestly ordination we expect to hear the  word “vocation,”  we automatically think of “priestly vocation” or a “religious vocation” of a nun or a monk. But the rest of you here this morning are not going to get off that easily!

 
 The first line of this morning’s  second reading, when Paul says: “I implore

you to lead a life worthy of your vocation.”  he’s talking to all the baptized Christians in Ephesus. And he tells them that all of them have the same vocation: He says,  “Bear with one another charitably, in complete selflessness, gentleness and patience.”

So you see, this is NOT a priestly or religious vocation, rather, it’s the vocation of each one of us here this morning. Each of us has a share in this one same vocation. Listen to Paul describe your calling further:

“Do all you can to preserve the unity of the Spirit

by the peace that binds you together.

There is one body, one spirit,

One Lord, one faith, one baptism. One God Father of all …”

He goes on to explain how this works for baptized Christians:

“Each of us has been given his own share of grace,

given as Christ allotted it:

And he gave some as Apostles, others as prophets,

others as evangelists, others as pastors and teachers,”

      
So there’s a wonderful variety of different callings, different vocations in  the church at Ephesus, just as there is a wonderful variety of different callings, different vocations  in this community assembled here this morning: Some are parents, others priests, some are monks or religious, others are called to the single state.

And now Paul goes on to describe the purpose, the point of our common vocation; listen to this beautiful passage because it’s about you:

“So that the saints together make a unity in the work of service.   for building up the Body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of faith and knowledge of the Son of God, until we become the perfect Man, fully mature in fullness of Christ himself.”

Did you hear that? We together become the “perfect man,”  we become Christ!

This is also the message of  the sacrament of the Eucharist. This is our calling as Christians: together we are to become CHRIST! This is our sacred vocation:to BECOME BREAD FOR ONE ANOTHER But not just for one another in our comfortable closed circle. Today, when the human family is being torn apart by the forces of hatred and violence, and splintered almost, it would seem, beyond repair, the world needs us, more than ever, to BE BREAD FOR ONE ANOTHER! More than ever, we, His body the Church, are called to be an example to the world: called to be a community of love that is always looking outward toward others who may not look like us, who may not sound like us, or think like us.

WE ARE TO BECOME BREAD OF PROMISE FOR THEM!

WE ARE TO BECOME BREAD FOR THE WHOLE WORLD!

So, as we celebrate this morning God’s loving faithfulness in supporting me in my vocation, remember that the Lord is supporting you in your vocation as well, which is basically the same vocation as mine: To build up the body of Christ, help bring about the Kingdom on earth.

O God of Faithfulness, I thank you for being so wonderfully  good to me during fifty years of priestly service; grant that all of my family and friends who are gathered here to celebrate with me, may be strengthened in their vocations as well.  Help us all to continue faithfully being bread for one another and for the whole world. Through Christ Our Lord. Amen.

 

BEING BREAD

JESUS THE BREAD OF LIFE 

The gospel reading for today's feast of Corpus Christi is taken from Chapter 6 of John’s gospel, the so-called “Bread of Life Chapter.” I just returned from vacation last night, and have not had time to write a brand new post, but the following is five years old, and I believe it still gives all of us something to think about.

Jesus said to them, ‘I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.  I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live for ever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.’ The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, ‘How can this man give us his flesh to eat?’ So Jesus said to them, ‘Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me.This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live for ever’  (John Ch. 6).

SLEEPING WITH BREAD 

There’s a little book entitled Sleeping with Bread by Dennis Linn et. al. The title comes from at story told at the beginning of the book:“During the bombing raids of WWII, thousands of children were orphaned and left to starve. The fortunate ones were rescued and placed in refugee camps where they received food and good care. But many of these children who had lost so much could not sleep at night. They feared waking up to find themselves once again homeless and without food. Nothing seemed to reassure them. Finally, someone hit upon the idea of giving each child a piece of bread to hold at bedtime. Holding their bread, these children could finally sleep in peace. All through the night the bread reminded them, 'Today I ate and I will eat again tomorrow.'” 

As I listened to the readings from the “Bread of Life Chapter” this week I kept seeing the image of those little war orphans sleeping peacefully in their beds, each holding on to a piece of bread. For those suffering children the bread meant much more than calories and carbohydrates. It was a promise, an encouragement. In the midst of a chaotic war-torn world, the bread was a reassuring, palpable presence, the gift of hope for tomorrow. When Christ says, “I am the bread of life,” isn’t he giving himself to us as a promise, an encouragement, a reassuring palpable presence, the gift of hope for tomorrow?

BEING BREAD

But there’s more to this “bread of life” business than Jesus’ giving himself to us in the Holy Eucharist. For one thing, remember that where the other three gospels have Jesus instituting the Eucharist at the Last Supper, the Gospel of John does not. Instead it tells how Jesus washed the feet of his disciples (Jn 13:3 ff.). The episode ends with Jesus commanding the apostles: "14 So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. 15 For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you” (Jn Ch. 13).

Jesus Washing Feet

The readings at this time of the liturgical year are full of such commands, commissions and sendings. The angelic messengers at the tomb tell the women, “Go, tell the disciples…,” the disciples are commanded "Go into Galilee,"and the risen Lord appears to the disciples and gives them the commission to “Go forth into the whole world…” The first reading today (Friday) was the story of Saul’s conversion on the Road to Damascus; once again someone’s life is interrupted by a peremptory command from the Lord: "Stop what you’re doing and go do this for me." 

Combining the themes of the Bread of Life and of these various “sendings”, it's easy for us to imagine Jesus saying to us, his followers, “I am the bread of life, and now you have to go forth and be bread as well. In the midst of a chaotic materialistic world, be bread for one another, be a reassuring, palpable presence, be the gift of hope for tomorrow for your brothers and sisters.  I want you to be bread for one another."

I preached on this theme in the homily at today’s community mass. On the way to the sacristy after mass I passed a basket on a table in the gathering area in the back of church. A hand-lettered a sign on the basket is labeled simply “Food Pantry.” The basket was overflowing with canned goods and a big box of Special K. I smiled as I thought to myself, "Well, it’s not exactly bread, but some of our parishioners sure know a great way to be bread for the poor families in our neighborhood.”

As I continued toward the sacristy I started wondering who I'm supposed to be bread for in the next day or two. Hmm... Maybe it's you?
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