Homily

The Gospel of this twentieth Sunday concludes Jesus’ speech in the synagogue of Capernaum. As for the miracle of the multiplication of the bread, the meaning of his words has become clearer and clearer. Jesus says aloud, "I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live for ever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh." Everyone is listening to him, but the majority are so busy thinking of their own self-interest that they do not understand the Gospel newness. In his speech, Jesus does not fail to refer to the First Testament in order to help the understanding of his words. He explicitly spoke about manna, which the book of Wisdom presents as the "food of angels, ... providing every pleasure and suited to every taste. For God’s sustenance manifested His sweetness towards his children" (Wis 16:20-21). In the memory of the listeners resounded many passages in which communion with God was expressed through the image of a banquet. In the book of Proverbs it is written that Wisdom prepares a banquet and invites all, "Come, eat of my bread and drink of the wine I have mixed. Lay aside immaturity, and live, and walk in the way of insight" (9:5-6). The meal - manifested with bread and wine - is symbol of the communion and intimacy that Wisdom offers to the people of Israel. It was already clear that it as not only material bread. The prophet Amos said that people were suffering not only "a famine of bread, or a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord" (8:11-12).
With the theme of the banquet, Jesus was gathering the Scriptures and fulfilling them. He himself was now preparing a banquet and inviting everyone. However the scandal of his listeners was not about this theme; it came when Jesus clarified that the bread of that banquet was himself, his body. (In Aramaic, instead of the term ‘body,’ the term ‘flesh’ was used, which indicated the whole person.) The listeners were asking one another, "How can this man give us his flesh to eat?" They were discussing what he meant by these words. This was more than understandable; moreover, they were right in their wondering as it was, and it is, truly extraordinary what Jesus was saying. And yet they could have asked for and sought an explanation from Jesus himself. Instead, they did not want to humble themselves and ask for explanations; they were certain of their wisdom. The poor and the beggars are not afraid of asking and not even of being persistent; for them, begging is a matter of death or life. Those who are satisfied with their convictions or bread do not lower themselves and do not ask; if anything they murmur and judge. But Jesus, knowing their thoughts, is even more explicit and says, "Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them."
Jesus’ language is very concrete, even outrageously blunt. "The flesh and blood" indicated the whole person, his life, his story. If Jesus said to the Samaritan woman he met at the well that he could give her "living water," now he proposes his very same person as "the bread of life." Jesus offers himself to his listeners; we could say in the more realistic sense of the term that he offers himself as food for everyone. His vocation is to become a man who is eaten, consumed, broken and poured. Truly, Jesus does not want to keep anything for himself and he offers his entire life for men and women. The Eucharist, this awesome gift the Lord has left to His Church, makes our mysterious, and very intimate, communion with him real. Paul, with energy, says to the Christians in Corinth, "The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a sharing in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a sharing in the body of Christ?" (1 Cor 10:16).
All this raises questions about our [ordinary] path to the Eucharist. Unfortunately, many times we acquiesce in a tired habit that deprives those who take communion from tasting the sweetness of this tender and sublime mystery of love. It is such a high mystery of love that everyone should always and anyhow think ourselves to be unworthy to receive it. Indeed the Holy liturgy, even after the most perfect of confessions, makes us repeat the same words of the centurion, "O Lord, I am not worthy that you come under my roof." Yes, we are never worthy to receive the Lord. It is a truth we very often forget. It is the Lord who comes towards us. It is He who comes close to us to the point of becoming food and drink for us. The attitude that we should have in approaching the Eucharist is that of a beggar who stretches out his or her hand, a beggar of love, of a beggar of healing, of a beggar of comfort and support. The ancient stories say that a woman went to the fathers in the desert and confessed that she was assaulted by terrible temptations, and that often they overwhelmed her. The holy monk asked her how long she was not receiving Communion. She said that it has been several months since she last received the Holy Eucharist. The monk answered her more or less with these words, "Try not to eat at all for several months, and then you will tell me how you feel!" The woman understood what the monk told her, and she started to receive communion regularly. Eucharist is the essential food for the life of the believer; more so, it is one’s very life, as Jesus himself says at the end of His speech, "Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me." The Lord seems not to ask us anything else but to answer his invitation and taste the sweetness and strength of this bread that he freely and abundantly continues to give us.