The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ
Bread from Heaven
Rev. James A. Wickersham
Last Sunday and today, the Church celebrates two of her greatest mysteries. Last Sunday we celebrated the Holy Trinity: God is one, and God is three. We ended with this: the Trinity is not a mystery to be solved, but a mystery to be lived. Today we celebrate the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, what we call Corpus Christi.
And with a mystery like the Eucharist, there are two mistakes we can make. One mistake says, “This is all mystery, so we cannot really say anything about it. Just accept it and move on.” The other mistake says, “If we cannot fully understand it, then it must not really be mystery at all. It must only be a symbol, a reminder, a religious reenactment of something Jesus did long ago.” The Catholic faith refuses both mistakes.
The Eucharist is mystery, but mystery does not mean darkness. Mystery means there is more light than our eyes can see. We cannot master the Eucharist and we cannot explain it away. But we can speak about it because Christ has spoken. We can ponder it because God has revealed himself. We can adore it because this is not bread and wine anymore. This is the Body and Blood of Christ.
And I know this stretches the mind. It stretches my mind. And if we struggle to believe that bread and wine can become the Body and Blood of Christ, maybe we have to ask a deeper question first: what kind of world are we living in?
There are times when faith is not easy. There are times when we wonder: how could God possibly care about me, or this world, or the Church, or Guthrie or Crescent, America, in the middle of a universe that is so vast?
When that happens, I often have to go back to the beginning. This world cannot explain itself. Matter is not God. The universe is not its own source. There must be a beginning before every beginning, one who has no beginning, one who simply is.
And that one cannot be less than what he has made. If we can think, then the Creator cannot be without a rational mind. If we can love, then the Creator is not loveless. If we long for communion, then that longing did not come from nowhere. Remember, God cannot be less than his creation.
At the heart of all things is not emptiness, not chaos, not indifference, but the living God. And last Sunday we proclaimed who this God is: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, an eternal communion of love.
The God who made us for communion did not remain distant from us. He revealed himself. He spoke to Israel. He fed his people with manna in the desert. He taught them that “not by bread alone does one live, but by every word that comes forth from the mouth of the Lord.”
And then, in the fullness of time, the eternal Son took flesh in the womb of the Virgin Mary. The God who made all things became man. The eternal Word entered time. The one through whom the universe was made took on a human body, a human heart.
And that body was offered on the Cross. That blood was poured out for the forgiveness of sins. That body rose from the dead. That body ascended into heaven. And that same Lord says to us in the Gospel today, “I am the living bread that came down from heaven.”
He does not say, “I will leave you an idea.” He does not say, “I will give you a symbol.” He says, “The bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.”
This is what happens at every Mass. The sacrifice of Christ is not repeated. Christ does not die again. Something more beautiful happens. The risen and ascended Lord makes his one sacrifice present to us.
The bread and wine are changed into his Body and Blood. What still looks like bread is no longer bread. What still looks like wine is no longer wine. Christ gives us himself: body, blood, soul, and divinity. Heaven opens here.
St. Paul testifies to this when he says: “The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ?”
Participation. Holy Communion is not only receiving something sacred. Holy Communion joins us to someone.
We receive Christ. And Christ is never alone. The Son is eternally with the Father. The Son lives forever in the love of the Holy Spirit. So when we receive the Son, we are drawn into the life of the Trinity.
The Eucharist we celebrate is the God of communion giving himself as food. The manna of old sustained Israel through the desert. The Eucharist today sustains the Church on the way to heaven. And it is more than food for the journey. It is a pledge of future glory. It is the life of heaven already beginning in us.
So when you come forward today, do not receive a symbol. Receive the living Lord. Receive the sacrifice that saves you. Receive the life for which you were made. This universe is not cold. God has come near. And he feeds us with himself.
