Homily for the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ (Corpus Christi), Year A

Bread for the Journey: The Living Bread Who Walks With Us

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, today we kneel before one of the greatest mysteries of our faith. On this Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, the Church invites us to gaze with wonder upon the gift that stands at the very center of our lives as Catholics: the Holy Eucharist, the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of our Lord Jesus Christ, hidden under the humble appearance of bread and wine.

I want to begin with a question that may seem simple but is deeply important. When was the last time you walked away from Holy Communion truly amazed by what you had just received? It is so easy, my friends, for the extraordinary to become ordinary. The line moves forward, we open our hands or our mouths, we hear "The Body of Christ," we say "Amen," and we return to our pew. And sometimes we receive God Himself with less reflection than we give to a cup of coffee in the morning. Today, the Church wants to reawaken our wonder.

Our first reading from Deuteronomy takes us back into the wilderness. Moses reminds the people of Israel of their long journey through the desert, that great forty year pilgrimage. He tells them, "Remember how for forty years now the LORD, your God, has directed all your journeying in the desert, so as to test you by affliction and find out whether or not it was your intention to keep his commandments."

Notice what God does. He allows His people to feel hunger. Why would a loving God permit His children to go hungry? Moses gives us the answer: God let them be hungry, "and then fed you with manna, a food unknown to you and your fathers, in order to show you that not by bread alone does one live, but by every word that comes forth from the mouth of the LORD."

Here is a profound truth, brothers and sisters. The hunger of the desert was meant to teach the people that their deepest need was not physical but spiritual. The manna that fell from heaven each morning was God's way of saying: I will sustain you. I will provide. You can depend on Me for your daily bread. The manna was a gift, a foreshadowing, a shadow of something far greater that was yet to come.

That something greater is revealed in today's Gospel. Jesus stands before the crowds and declares, "I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world."

The crowd is scandalized. They begin to argue among themselves, asking, "How can this man give us his flesh to eat?" And here is the remarkable thing. Jesus does not soften His words. He does not say, "Calm down, I am only speaking symbolically." Instead, He intensifies His language. He says, "Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you."

The Greek word Jesus uses for "eat" in this passage is striking. It is not the ordinary word for eating. It is a word that means to gnaw, to chew, to consume in the most physical, literal sense. Jesus is leaving no room for misunderstanding. He truly means that He will give us His very flesh and blood as our food and drink.

This is the heart of our Catholic faith. The Eucharist is not a symbol. It is not a metaphor. It is not merely a reminder of Jesus. It is Jesus Himself, truly and substantially present. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches us, "In the most blessed sacrament of the Eucharist the body and blood, together with the soul and divinity, of our Lord Jesus Christ and, therefore, the whole Christ is truly, really, and substantially contained."

Saint Thomas Aquinas, that great Doctor of the Church who composed the very hymns we sing on this feast, the Pange Lingua and the Tantum Ergo, taught that in the Eucharist Christ gives Himself to us completely. Aquinas wrote with awe that this sacrament surpasses all others, for in it Christ Himself is contained. He understood that what our eyes cannot see and our reason cannot fully grasp, faith makes present to us.

Brothers and sisters, do you see the beautiful connection between our readings? The manna in the desert sustained the bodies of God's people for a time, but they still died. Jesus points to this when He says, "Your ancestors ate the manna in the desert, but they died." Then He makes His astonishing promise: "Whoever eats this bread will live forever."

The manna was bread for a journey that ended in death. The Eucharist is bread for a journey that ends in eternal life. This is what we call viaticum, food for the way, bread for the pilgrimage that leads us home to heaven.

And just as the Israelites needed daily manna, we too need this living bread regularly. We cannot store up grace as if it were canned goods in a pantry. We need to return again and again to this table, because the journey of life is long, and we grow weary, and we are tested by affliction just as our ancestors in the desert were tested.

Now let us turn to Saint Paul in our second reading, for he gives us another dimension of this mystery. He writes to the Corinthians, "The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? Because the loaf of bread is one, we, though many, are one body, for we all partake of the one loaf."

Here, my friends, is something we must not miss. The Eucharist does not only unite us to Christ. It unites us to one another. When we receive the one bread, we become one body. The Eucharist is the sacrament that forms us into the Church.

Saint Augustine understood this beautifully. Preaching to his people about the Eucharist, he told them something we should carry in our hearts. He said, "Be what you can see, and receive what you are." He meant that when we look upon the Body of Christ on the altar, we are looking at a mystery we are called to become. We receive the Body of Christ in order to be the Body of Christ in the world.

Think about what this means for how we live. If the person kneeling beside you receives the same Lord you receive, if the stranger across the aisle becomes one body with you in this sacrament, then how can we harbor resentment? How can we hold onto grudges, gossip, division, and indifference toward those who share this same heavenly food?

The Eucharist makes a claim on us. It demands that we leave this church and treat one another as members of one body. The Communion we receive at this altar must become the communion we live in our families, our parish, and our community.

So what, then, are we to do with this great gift? Let me offer you three simple invitations as we prepare to come to this altar.

First, receive worthily and reverently. Saint Paul warns the Corinthians elsewhere that whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup unworthily sins against the Body and Blood of the Lord. Let us come to Communion in a state of grace, having confessed our serious sins. Let us approach not casually, but with reverence, faith, and love, truly aware of Who it is we receive.

Second, spend time with the Lord in His Eucharistic presence. Today many parishes hold Eucharistic processions and adoration. I encourage you to make a habit of visiting the Blessed Sacrament. Sit before the tabernacle. Let Jesus look upon you and you upon Him. You do not always need words. Sometimes love simply rests in the presence of the beloved.

Third, become what you receive. After you receive Holy Communion, ask the Lord to make you bread for others. Let the love you receive overflow in patience with your spouse, gentleness with your children, kindness toward the neighbor who is difficult to love, and service to the poor.

Dear brothers and sisters, in just a few moments, the words of consecration will be spoken at this altar. Bread and wine will become the Body and Blood of our Lord. Heaven will touch earth. The same Jesus who fed the multitudes, who died on the cross, and who rose from the dead will come to us as food for our journey.

Let us not let this become ordinary. Let us approach with the wonder of the Israelites gathering manna in the morning light, with the faith of those who believed the words of Jesus, and with the love of those who long to be one with Him forever.

He is the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats this bread will live forever. Come, let us receive Him, and let us become what we receive.

May the Body and Blood of Christ keep us safe for eternal life. Amen.