They all ate and were satisfied.
Taken from the ninth chapter of the Gospel according to St. Luke, verse seventeen.
The Holy Eucharist is a powerful reality, a reality that defies explanation.
The reality of Jesus’ Body and Blood, and our acceptance of that reality, right here, among us, is based solely on faith. You cannot intellectualize it, theologize it, or even contemplate it.
The great southern writer, Flannery O’Connor once attended a dinner. Sitting among the notables of the time the discussion turned to the intellectualization of Catholic practice. Ms. Connor reported:
Mrs. Broadwater said when she was a child and received the host, she thought of it as the Holy Ghost, He being the most portable person of the Trinity; now she thought of it as a symbol and implied that it was a pretty good one. I then said, in a very shaky voice, Well, if it’s a symbol, to hell with it.
We can do lots of symbolic things on a Sunday. We can attend a ballgame and stand for the National Anthem. We can get together with family and prepare a nice meal. We could donate a few hours to visiting relatives that are sick or shut-in. We can visit a cemetery and care for the graves.
We have tons of options.
We could even gather in this building, sing a few songs, shake hands to make amends for the hurtful things we have done, and finish it all off with a roll and butter washed down by a cup of coffee.
This is my hard roll, this is my java, get together in remembrance of me.
As Ms. O’Connor pointed out, if it’s all symbolism, to heck with it. Frankly, I’d rather be back in bed.
Now symbolism is a great thing, but symbols pass. They do not live. They do not carry on, they do not last. Nations fade from the earth, mountains and coastlines crumble, nothing you see standing before you will last, save for one reality, God’s infinite love and His real presence among us. All else can pass, but this will not fail.
The reality of God’s presence among us, in all its fullness, is that essential element that connects us one-to-another throughout all time.
Jesus certainly knew the objections, and he spoke to those:
This is the bread which came down from heaven, not such as the fathers ate and died; he who eats this bread will live for ever.”
This he said in the synagogue, as he taught at Caper’na-um.
A symbol does not give life. A symbol, whether it be a reminder of happiness or sadness, victory or tragedy, is lifeless. Only God can give life. Jesus came to give us life.
To assure that fact, and to assure our constant connection to Him, a connection that defies mental gymnastics, He left us with His presence, His body and blood.
He left us with the only thing that can give life, a thing that is not a thing, but a living being.
Indeed, we have God’s powerful reality right here, before us. We kneel to that reality, we prostrate ourselves to that reality, and we pray and sing hymns to that reality. We wear vestments and conduct public rituals to further expose that reality. If it’s not reality, why bother…
My brothers and sisters,
In a few minutes we will enter into the most sacred moments of the Holy Mass. The bread and wine will be offered up and through the power of the Holy Spirit it will cease being bread and wine. Those elements will be transformed, through the power of God, into the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ.
God is among us. He has come to bring us life everlasting.
We will feed on His body and drink His blood. We will carry Him in procession and fall down on our knees before Him.
Most importantly, we will expose Him to the world, and offer His reality to the world.
We will not shut our doors or bar our gates. We will not card check.
Come you who have faith. Eat His body, drink His blood.
They all ate and were satisfied.
