The best laid plans of mice and men. Beginning yesterday morning, I planned to post a reflection for this great solemnity. Here it is Sunday evening and I just getting started.
Last week, as I was preparing to preach on Trinity Sunday, I thought "We have a hard time letting go of Easter." What do I mean? I mean that Trinity Sunday and Corpus Christi, which fall on successive Sundays after Pentecost, at least where I live, seem to me like Easter extended. Yes, I know that in most parts of the world Corpus Christi was last Thursday. Don't forget, I live in a part of the United States within which we observe Jesus's Ascension, not forty day after Easter, but in lieu of the Seventh Sunday of Easter.
Biblical arithmetic is interesting. I make this observation with regard to our Gospel reading for today, which is from Luke's Gospel. After Jesus invited them to give those who gathered to listen to him something to eat, all his closest followers could come up with were five loaves of bread and two fishes (Luke 9:13). Added together (5+2), they equal seven. In Biblical terms, seven is the number of completeness of and/or achievement. So, there is significance to the number. That significance is brought to the fore when Luke writes "all ate and were satisfied" (Luke 9:17).
Our Gospel reading begins with the sacred author writing that Jesus spoke to those who followed him to Bethsaida "about the kingdom of God" (Luke 9:11b). The same author goes on to point out that Jesus "healed those who needed to be cured" (Luke 9:11b). In the twentieth chapter his Letter to the Ephesians, St. Ignatius of Antioch refers to the Eucharist as "the medicine of immortality." You see, healing and Eucharist go together. All of Eve's poor banished children need the healing that Jesus brings about through his death, resurrection, and sending the Spirit.
Whenever the lectionary features a Sunday Gospel reading of a synoptic account of the multiplication of loaves, the red herring as to whether that small amount of food was miraculously multiplied or whether other people, following the lead of Jesus's close disciples, brought forth and shared that which they had been withholding. At least for Luke's account, which begins by relating that Jesus was speaking to them about the kingdom of God, the latter seems very congruent with Jesus's teaching about God's kingdom. Of course, it does not rule out the other possibility.
In reality, this false dilemma is the result of too literal a reading of these pericopes. Just like too literal a reading of the story of the fall in Genesis 3 might cause someone to ask, "What kind of fruit tree was it?," or reading the Book of Jonah may cause one to ask about the plausibility of staying alive for several days inside a large fish, reading this account too literally results in this false dilemma. All of these are exercises in missing the point. Because it points to the Eucharist (the Gospel According St. Luke is thoroughly eucharistic throughout), the point is the abundance with which Christ gives himself to us whole and entire. He is able to give himself in and through the Eucharist throughout the world. In short, Christ's presence in the Eucharist, which is the work of the Holy Spirit, is not bound by time and space. This is what it means to say that Jesus ascended in order to draw closer.
Our second reading from St. Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians is the earliest written account of the Last Supper that has been handed down. Written 7-10 years before the Gospel According to St. Mark, which is the first of the Gospels to be written, Paul tells the first Christians of ancient Corinth about the traditio (i.e., something that is handed on) of the Eucharist. The apostle says he hands on what he received from the Lord. Jesus's disciples, according to Paul, are to continue doing this until Christ returns.
Then there is the mysterious figure of Melchizedek from our first reading. The only other place Melchizedek is mentioned in the Hebrew Scriptures (i.e., Old Testament) is in Psalm 110, which is our responsorial. Melchizedek is introduced as the king of Salem. "Salem" means "peace." Appearing out of nowhere, offering an unbloody sacrifice of bread and wine, Melchizedek, after accepting Abram's tithe, vanishes again. From a Christian perspective, Melchizedek is assuredly a Christ-figure.
Like the mystery of the Trinity, the mystery of the Eucharist is inexhaustible. But it is not something primarily to be pondered. The Eucharist is a mystery into which we are immersed each time we participate in Mass. The mystery into which we are immersed is the very life of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
By receiving him in the Eucharist, Christ comes to be present in us just as much as he remains in the unconsumed bread we reserve in the tabernacle. Hence, it your mission to make him present wherever you go.
It was Henri de Lubac, S.J. who observed that over time there was reversal of mysticum and verum with regard to the Body of Christ. This reversal has been most detrimental for the Church's witness. What am I talking about? You see, the mystical Body of Christ (corpus mysticum) formerly referred to the consecrated species (i.e., the transformed bread and wine) and the real Body of Christ (corpus verum) to the Church. Putting things back, the right way around, makes a world of difference. The mystical makes the true.
It was Henri de Lubac, S.J. who observed that over time there was reversal of mysticum and verum with regard to the Body of Christ. This reversal has been most detrimental for the Church's witness. What am I talking about? You see, the mystical Body of Christ (corpus mysticum) formerly referred to the consecrated species (i.e., the transformed bread and wine) and the real Body of Christ (corpus verum) to the Church. Putting things back, the right way around, makes a world of difference. The mystical makes the true.
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