O. T. XX (B) Proverbs 9:1-6, Eph 5:15-20, John 6: 51-58

In October, 1972, a plane carrying 46 passengers of an Uruguayan rugby team and their families and supporters to an exhibition game in Chile crashed in the Andes. Nando Parrado, one of the survivors, tells the story of their 72 day struggle against freezing weather and dangerous avalanches in the book Miracle in the Andes. The author's mother and sister were among those killed in the crash. High in the Andes, with a fractured skull, eating the raw flesh of his deceased teammates and friends, Parrado calmly pondered the cruelties of fate, the power of the natural world and the possibility of his continued existence: "I would live from moment to moment and from breath to breath, until I had used up all the life I had," he wrote. The 16 survivors had nothing to eat except the flesh of their dead teammates. After two months, Nando, an ordinary young man – a rugby player - with no disposition for leadership or heroism, led an expedition of the remaining three of the survivors up the treacherous slopes of a snow-capped mountain and across forty-five miles of frozen wilderness in an attempt to find help. The party was finally rescued by helicopter crews. It was difficult for them to decide that eating human flesh was all right, even in those extreme circumstances! Hence, it is not surprising that Jesus’ listeners protested against his invitation to eat his flesh and drink his blood as described in today’s Gospel. 

That we cannot have everlasting life unless we eat Jesus’ Body and drink his Blood was a shocking message to the listeners. Indeed, Jewish law prohibited the eating of human flesh; and blood of any kind was considered to be the actual life of a living being. Drinking of blood, consequently, was prohibited in Judaism and in Christianity (Gen 9:4; Lev 17:10, 12, 14;cf. Acts 15:29). Some of Israel’s Old Testament neighbors apparently drank blood as a religious act, believing that if they drank the blood of an animal they took into themselves the strength and vitality of that creature because blood was life, and life was blood. Seeking life from the blood of an animal was idolatrous for Israelites because life comes from God alone. In addition, for the Jews, blood itself was a spiritual contaminant, and coming in contact with blood immediately rendered one ritually unclean. That was why a woman was considered to be ritually unclean for several weeks after she gave birth to a child. We saw in the Gospel how a woman with a chronic hemorrhage of blood dared not approach Jesus openly. In the story of the Good Samaritan, the priest and the Levite on their way to the Temple would not contaminate themselves by contact with the injured man because he was bleeding. To this day, observant Jews will eat only kosher meat from which the blood has been fully drained.

 Eating the Living Bread, Jesus himself, allows us to participate in his life and to grow here and now in our eternal life with God. Jesus emphasizes the eternal-life dimensions of eating His Body and drinking his Blood.

Jesus reminds his listeners that this was not the first time in the history of salvation that God had provided his people with food. The people knew about the experience of the Israelites in the wilderness. They now must realize how that experience differed from Jesus’ feeding his followers with the Holy Eucharist.

The Eucharist is the eternal sacrifice of Jesus providing life to those who eat his Body and drink his Blood. Thus, the Holy Mass is the Sacramental act which transforms our lives into the Divine Life. In each Mass, Jesus transforms us into other Christs - ritually, sacramentally and existentially – thus keeping his promise: “I will be with you till the end of the world.”

When we receive Jesus in Holy Communion we accept a great challenge. We accept the triumphs and the tragedies, joys and the pains necessary to build up the Kingdom of God wherever we have been called to serve. 

No one would come to church to collect a morsel of bread, if that was all there was to it.  The only reason we come is that Jesus said, "Take and eat…this is my body; do this in memory of me."  All the other things we do, said Johann Tauler in the 14th century, can be so many paths to God, but in the Eucharistic Liturgy we are united with God in Christ, "with no intermediary."  "There is no difference between it (the consecrated bread) and God," he said. "In this gift he gives himself to us directly and not in any figurative way; he is united, simply and purely, with us. This is a feast indeed; there is nothing to compare with it."  We have to come to know this, he said, "by experience, by living… not by reasoning about it."

It is indeed a special experience to do or say something in Liturgy with full awareness that the only reason I am doing it is that God is God, and Christ is Christ, fully present, fully given to us.  This you might call the vertical axis.  Immediately there follows the horizontal, because Liturgy is not an escape or an alternative to our daily life.  But it begins from the vertical, not from the other.  It is like the way we make the Sign of the Cross: we make the vertical axis first.  And at the end of the Mass we are told, go and announce the gospel, and there we make the horizontal axis. So from the Sunday’s vertical axis, the Monday through Saturday horizontal axis should follow.

 May the reception of the body and blood of Jesus transform us into his body and help us to believe in the abiding presence of God in the Eucharist.