Thursday of the Third Week of Easter

Lectionary: 276

I am the living bread that came down from heaven;
whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my Flesh for the life of the world."

Saint John's Gospel uses a dozen variations on the Lord's "I am" statements. They come in two forms, "I am he;" and "I am the....." They anchor our understanding of the Lord, his identity, and his mission. They define our relationship to him. 

In his expression, "I am the bread of life," we hear his insistence that we cannot expect any kind of life without him. We must have bread. It was the staple of life in the biblical mid east as rice is for billions of Asians today; and meat, for Americans. We cannot imagine life without this staple; we would not want to live without it. 

Pope Benedict XVI wrote in in Post-Synodal Apostolic Exhortation, Verbum Domini:

In his own person Jesus brings to fulfillment the ancient image: “The bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world” [when he insists] “I am the bread of life." Here “the law has become a person. When we encounter Jesus, we feed on the living God himself, so to speak; we truly eat ‘the bread from heaven."

In the discourse at Capernaum, John’s Prologue is brought to a deeper level. There God’s Logos became flesh, but here this flesh becomes “bread” given for the life of the world, with an allusion to Jesus’ self-gift in the mystery of the cross, confirmed by the words about his blood being given as drink. The mystery of the Eucharist reveals the true manna, the true bread of heaven: it is God’s Logos made flesh, who gave himself up for us in the paschal mystery. 

The Lord's "I am" is challenging and persistent. While some might read it as an imposition or an invasion, believers hear the Lord's eager, joyous, generous concern for us. He knows himself, and we must know him, as the foundation of everything we know and believe. 

Our experience of life begins in God's self-sacrificing love for us. We must eat his flesh and drink his blood if we would have life. 

Catholics in the United States are preparing for a Eucharistic Congress. Readers like me who want some historic background to anything, can find two timelines of international and American congresses from 1881 in Lille France to 2024 in Indianapolis. One major event occurred near Chicago, Illinois in 1926; very close to our Franciscan "National Shrine of Saint Maximilian Kolbe" at Marytown. 

The Eucharist represents a challenge and invitation especially to an American culture that isolates and lionizes individuals. Even our technology isolates us as we abandon the TV in the family room to privately search the Internet for entertainment and views to suit our particular tastes and opinions. But that momentum began when we refitted our theaters for movies. Actors on the silver screen cannot hear the cheers, applause, or catcalls of the audience; their only reward is money.  

The Eucharist calls us back to the Church where a real flesh-and-blood priestly people worship the living God with their priest or bishop. Children learn the sanctuary is not a stage and they're not there to be entertained. A living priest will insist that the congregation respond with "Amen" and "And with your spirit!" Everyone will recite the Lord's Prayer together with one voice, one mind, and one heart. They will receive the precious Body from the hands of ministers, and the precious Blood from a common chalice. 

The old people in the congregation will remind the children that we have been gathering like this -- often in this very building -- for many generations. History didn't begin when you were born! Nor can you know the meaning of these prayers without the stories of saints, sinners, and martyrs from prehistoric times right up till today. 

The Mass insists that Jesus is the Bread of our Life. It defies that heresy that teaches every man for himself without regard for women or children. It teaches us that we belong to one another and to the Lord -- or we have no life. And certainly, none worth living.