Corpus Christi

The Eucharist, Or Nothing

The Israelites’ struggle to survive in the desert on the food God gave them is one reason why the Church chose the first reading, from Dueteronomy, for the feast of Corpus Christi. But there’s more to it than that. We are meant to identify with Israel, wandering in the desert.  The purpose of that wandering, 40 years among the snakes and the scorpions and the thirst, as the reading points out, was to turn that people into God’s people, by teaching them to abandon idolatry and turn to Him.  Abandoning idolatry and turning to God is not just a matter of a change in religious practices, however.  It involves a profound change in our attitudes toward ourselves, toward each other, and toward God.

Idolatry is a simple thing.  As the reading says, “Do not become proud of heart.”  And that tells us what idolatry is:  no matter what form it takes, ultimately idolatry is about the worship of yourself.

There is a terrible logic to idolatry as well, one that leads it inevitably into human sacrifice.  All idolatrous cultures eventually wind up there.  The logic is simple: the more costly, the more terrible the sacrifice, the more it will serve to satisfy the demands of the god being served.  But with Jesus, in this as with so many things, that logic is stood on its head.  When God himself becomes the sacrifice, the old order of gods who demand to be served with more and more terrible sacrifice is replaced by the new covenant of a God who sacrifices Himself once for the people He calls His own.  On this feast day, we remember especially that it is primarily and truly through the Eucharist that we share in that sacrifice and in that covenant.  Now this central truth about the sacrifice of Christ can be hard for some people to accept.  Which brings me to my favorite story about one of my favorite writers. And I’m not ashamed to say it has become a habit with me to tell this story every year on this feast.

The great Catholic writer, Flannery O’Connor was at a Manhattan dinner-party when another writer said in passing that the Eucharist was “only a symbol.” Now Flannery was not only a good Catholic, wise in her faith, but also a Southern lady with a low opinion of Yankee intellectuals.  And in her almost impenetrable Georgia accent, she replied that “if it’s only a symbol, then I say to Hell with it.” Her point being that there is nothing only about it.  The action performed by Jesus at the Last Supper, and the action He performed on the Cross at Calvary, and the action performed by people of faith before altars all over the world, by the saints throughout history, and by us here today are all one and the same action:  the saving action of Christ’s death.  And while we can learn about it, whether through our catechism or in advanced theology seminars, it only really becomes a part of our faith –a part of us—by sharing it.  “He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood lives in me and I in him.”

What does that mean to you?  At the very least, it should mean this:  When you receive the Body and Blood of Christ you say “Amen”.  Because in saying “Amen” you are saying that you embrace the covenant Christ forged with humanity through the Church.  And you are saying that because of His sacrifice you forswear and oppose any action or political philosophy or culture –including our own-- that would tell you it’s OK to sacrifice your neighbor, the stranger, the poor, the most vulnerable among us-- on the altar of your own greed or lust or selfishness. By receiving the host and saying “Amen” you accept the command Christ gave to His disciples to “love one another as I have loved you” --which can be hard work, for it means that no matter what, you will do right by the people who come into your life, however they come into your life.   

          So when you say your ‘Amen’ today, remember that it is the Body of Christ you are receiving. Remember all that that means. And remember also that you do not stand alone, but having been purged of your idols you stand united with others to form one people. And together we stand amidst the great company of witnesses we call the communion of saints, whose “Amen” to Christ echoes throughout the world, throughout history, and throughout all eternity to come.