It’s good to be back. It seems quite a while ago now since I last preached here, and
you’ve probably forgotten what I said, just as I had to double-check what I said as
well in preparing this. Three weekends ago, the Gospel reading was the Feeding of
the the Five Thousand, and we noticed that Eucharistic language was buried in the
text: Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks and gave them out to all who were sitting
ready – it sounds similar to the Last Supper, where He took, gave thanks, broke and
gave.
Moving further on now in John chapter six, we are getting to the real beating heart of
the Eucharist.
When you have a real love for someone, you want to give of yourself to that person;
in friendship you give your time; in a romantic relationship giving of yourself leads
to marriage; love of God can mean a giving of yourself totally to God in a celibate
commitment; and so on. Jesus loved us so much that He didn’t want to just leave
memories behind and for people to write books; as well as these, He wanted to give
something more, and that Something, with a capital “S”, is the Eucharist.
There’s the story of the Catholic novelist, Flannery O’Connor, who was invited to a
party in which non-Catholics were discussing the Eucharist. Her host said that the
Eucharist was a very good symbol, but that was all it was. Flannery O’Connor’s
response, if you will excuse the language, was, “Well, if it’s just a symbol, to hell
with it”.
In today’s Gospel, Our Lord emphasises the reality and realness, if that’s a proper
word, of the gift of Himself in the Eucharist: “Anyone who eats this bread will live
for ever; and the bread that I shall give is my flesh, for the life of the world”. These
words are similar to the words of consecration over the host: “This is my body,
which will be given up for you”. Compare that with: “[The] bread that I shall give
is my flesh, for the life of the world”.
When we begin Advent on 1st December we will be moving to a new translation of
the Scripture readings, and there’s something very clever that they’ve been able to
achieve with today’s Gospel. One of the things that most English translations miss,
is that in the original Greek, Christ changes the word He uses for “eat”. In our
current translation, we begin with “Anyone who eats this bread will live for ever”.
The people start arguing about this, saying: “How can this man give us his flesh to
eat?” and then Our Lord continues with “if you do not eat the flesh of the Son of
Man” and so on. A subtle change is “lost in translation”, if you like. When the
people object, Jesus doesn’t back down. In fact he turns up the temperature. To
begin with He uses the normal word for eating, which is esthio. But after their
interjection, He switches to another verb, trogo, which emphasises a real, physical
eating, which could be translated as “chew”, or “munch” or “gnaw”. Up until now,
every major English translation has dropped the ball at this point, and just continued
to use the word “eat”. The new Lectionary, instead, brings home to us how the
emphasis goes up a gear and changes from “eats” to “feeds on”. The Eucharist is not
mere symbolism! We don’t hand out symbolic bread at Mass.
It can be useful to reflect on how our beliefs affect how we behave. At the time of
the Reformation, the Catholic belief of transubstantiation, that a real change takes
place in the bread and wine to become Christ, leaving only the outward appearances
of bread and wine, was challenged. To reflect a different belief, the Protestant Holy
Communion service was celebrated differently to the Mass. In this country, stone
altars were replaced with wooden tables, and the idea was that the minister stood on
the left hand side of the table as you look from the congregation, and the bread and
wine were placed on the right hand side, to give the impression that nothing
happens. Compare that with the Mass, where the priest leans over the altar as he
says the words of consecration, emphasising both Christ carrying His Cross to
Calvary, and also the breath of the priest being like the breath of the Holy Spirit,
changing the elements of bread and wine into the Body and Blood of the Lord. Then
the Host or chalice are held high for adoration – if you are an extreme Protestant,
this is idolatry, the worship of bread and wine. If you are Catholic, it’s the worship
of almighty God who is now before us with just the appearance of bread and wine.
The bell is rung. Then the priest places the host or chalice on the altar, and
genuflects, as a sign of adoration. Then, after Holy Communion is over, any leftover
Hosts are carefully gathered together and placed in the tabernacle; any remnants of
the Precious Blood are carefully consumed. Meanwhile, I was told there is a
Protestant denomination on the continent that, after their Holy Communion service,
throw the bread outside for the birds to eat. That’s perhaps an extreme Protestant
approach, although I heard of another example where a Protestant minister ate the
rest of what was left from her Holy Communion service for breakfast – she wasn’t
using round unleavened altar breads.
Christ wants us to eat of His flesh, to feed on Him. Just as He draws life from the
Father, via the Holy Spirit, so He wants us to feed on Him and draw life from Him.
And that is how the Eucharist can be the food that gives us spiritual life, and
everlasting life. “Anyone who eats this bread will live for ever; and the bread that I
shall give is my flesh, for the life of the world.”
Curious about exploring things further? If you would like to ask further questions about the topics raised in these homilies (or maybe think it wasn’t explained too well!), please feel free to e-mail Fr Michael at stjoseph.thame@rcaob.org.uk
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