Friday of the Third Week of Easter

Lectionary: 277

The Jews quarreled among themselves, saying,
“How can this man give us his Flesh to eat?”


I never had the stomach for politics. I attended a local caucus in Minnesota one time. Because the district had turned out in the recent election we sent a large delegation to the next level, including myself. I realized during that assembly that, despite my strong feelings on a particular issue, this wasn't for me. Even in political conversation with friends I become articulate with overwhelming feelings of rage, and then withdraw to silence. I admire politicians, their virtues of tact and conviction, and their skills of courtesy, diplomacy, and compromise; but I have no talent for it.
That admiration informs my reading of the Gospel of Saint John. This most sublime Gospel is intensely aware of political tensions, intrigue, and confusion. Not only is Jesus continually confronted with opposition, he intentionally generates more as he challenges his opponents. 
"How can this man give us his Flesh to eat?" they ask one another. It was a hypothetical question, asked with derisive sneers, for they knew no one can do that. 
We who have been fed at his table, who have eaten his flesh and drank his blood, also wonder where he found the courage to give us his Flesh to eat. For we usually approach the altar without hesitation, reluctance, or fear. We're welcome and we feel we have the right, an entitlement, to take and eat, take and drink. 
The Fourth Gospel, with its graphic language, reminds us of the cost Jesus paid so readily -- so boldly. Challenged at every step, he does not back down. He has innumerable opportunities to escape his doom but he throws them aside as he presses toward Jerusalem and Calvary. 
I think especially of that moment when a band of soldiers came to arrest him. He asked, "Whom do you seek?" When they replied, "Jesus the Nazorean," he said, "I am he." And they fell to the ground! They were paralyzed with awe of him. He might have "passed through their midst and walked away" as he had several times before. But his hour had come at last, he would not refuse it.  

He lays down his life freely, and takes it up again. No one can prevent his giving himself for us in this manner that is both edifying and horrifying. Who would not say in polite deference, "Lord, this really isn't necessary? You don't have to do this for me?" 
But he knows it is necessary. There is no other way to save me from myself, or to save us from ourselves. Left to our own devices, with neither his shepherding nor the guidance of the Holy Spirit, we must war continually with each other and finally destroy life on this planet. 
But he gives us his flesh to eat and and his blood to drink, we receive them during the Mass, for our salvation.