“…so whoever eats me will live because of me.” – Jesus of Nazareth
It’s August. I’m on holiday at my family’s lake cottage in Michigan. Facebook is full of people vacationing in exotic and beautiful places. Who wants to think for three weeks about Jesus’ “I am the bread” discourses and their cannibalistic implications? This is why so many preachers try sermon series on other themes every third August!
It’s not just about preaching. What relevance is there to this ancient argument between Jesus and would-be followers, in which he invokes the name of God and Israel’s disobedience, and then goes on to say that what he really means by “bread” is “his flesh,” which he will give for the world?
The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying,“How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” So Jesus said to them, “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 abide in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me.”
These words made little sense to those listening to Jesus that day. For many Christians, these words only have meaning in the context of the eucharistic meal of bread and wine signifying Christ’s body and blood. And we only have that understanding because of what the three other gospels – and not John – record as his words at the Last Supper, “This is my body, broken for you; this is my blood, shed for you. Eat, drink to remember me.” These words are certainly mystifying to people exploring Christianity.
The words require a great deal of unpacking. But the action – the taking and blessing, breaking and eating – that has power even for people who have no background with this language or texts. In some mystical way, when we receive the consecrated bread and wine, by faith become the body and blood of Christ, his life in us, received at baptism, is renewed. Our tired blood is refreshed by a transfusion of Jesus, our flagging flesh made whole in these signs of healing brokenness. And that can happen even for people who know little about Jesus. (Read Sara Miles' Take This Bread.)
We don't need more words about words. Today I just invite you to remember how you feel when you take in those mystical signs, how that meal nourishes you for the week ahead. And if you feel nothing, ask Jesus in prayer what he wants you to experience in that taking and blessing, breaking and eating. The words may be strange to our ears; the Love that makes them real is where we get life.
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