Homily – Corpus Christi Sunday

   My friends, I come to this feast of Corpus Christi—the Body of Christ with a bit of angst.  This is due to the fact that what I and many theologians alike feel is the real importance of this feast, and in fact, what our brother Jesus more than likely, intended the Eucharist to be, is apparently lost on many in leadership within the National Association of Catholic Bishops as they are planning a national Eucharistic Congress for 2024 in Indianapolis. 

   Interestingly enough, these same bishops are running a similar 3-year “revival” time alongside that of Pope Francis’ synodal process—the only thing is that the two processes are on divergent tracks, never intended to meet one another.

   Francis’ synodal process is intended to encourage our Church once again, “to open windows and doors,” as did Pope John XXIII 58 years ago at the 2nd Vatican Council.  John’s intent then, as is Francis’ now, was to be open and understanding, being good listeners to all the unique stories out there that make up the “Body of Christ.” 

   Many bishops in our country today, including our own, Robert Barron in the Winona/Rochester diocese, do not even mention Francis’ inclusive work in our world to complete Jesus’ mission of welcoming “all to the table,” not with a set agenda, but with open minds as to how we can make our Church more viable in our present day, open to, and addressing current problems and concerns. 

   As many of you are probably aware, the Winona/Rochester diocese sponsored its own Eucharistic Congress yesterday in Mankato.  They billed it as a “renewal,” but if you read the agenda for the day, in my mind, it could only be billed, “a return” to the past. 

   After I read the agenda, I experienced a “floundering moment,” –something my friend Alice would call, “crazy-making,” about what I could say regarding this event.  Another friend suggested that “I say nothing.” 

   After a good deal of reflection, I found that I could not, “just say nothing,” so trying not to be overly negative, but rather aiming toward truth-telling, I find that I must say something. 

   Yesterday’s event in Mankato offered confession, Eucharistic adoration, the rosary, among other pre-Vatican II practices, concluding with a Eucharistic procession through the streets of Mankato. All these rituals and practices are reminiscent of pre-Vatican II times when a relationship with God was more of an individual thing, not with a look-out to the larger world. The event hosted several speakers, including the bishop, religious sisters clad in more traditional garb, and lay men and women, all with the mission of reviving “love” for the Eucharistic bread of the altar-the Body of Christ.  There was an English and Spanish-speaking track for all speakers and musicians, with translations available into Vietnamese. Apparently, all avenues were covered to present the Church of pre-Vatican II times. 

   Now, I want to be clear.  At face value, there is nothing wrong with any of the rituals and practices that made up yesterday’s event or the event being planned for next year.  The trouble with such events is that they make no connection to the present-day world and its problems that so desperately need Christ’s body to be transformed in us, and for us to move into our world with the love and understanding that Jesus came to share in his. 

      I find it extremely hard to understand how we can profess to love and worship the Body of Christ on the altar, and yet abuse that same Body where we find it in our world, in people and ideas and ways of life that are different from the set agendas of these proposed Eucharistic Congresses.

   As we always say here—we must get beyond the surface, literal message of what is taught in our Catholic church.  Unless love of and for the Body of Christ moves from the altar, from the constructed adoration chapels, the confessionals and individual prayer lives of Jesus’ followers, we are basically, “spinning our wheels,” if our intention is to follow him in our lives.   

   In today’s 1st reading from Deuteronomy we hear, “Not by bread alone, [we can insert the Eucharist here] do we live, but by every word that comes from the mouth of our God.”  I believe Jesus intended the Eucharist as a means of comfort, yes, because he couldn’t remain physically with us—but it was meant to be just a beginning…just a place to start. That is why at the end of our liturgies, we say, “The Mass is ended, but let the service continue!”

   If we truly follow “every word that comes forth from [Jesus’] mouth,” then we must not imprison him on our altars, or in golden monstrances.  We must take him into our own bodies, now transformed into his, to all the places, and to all the people that this old way of thinking and acting ignores, sometimes shuns, and all the time, sees as unworthy because they do not follow the established rules. 

   This is why the 2nd Vatican Council was so needed—to free Jesus up—to let him live among us again, challenge us to be our best, in a Church free of patriarchy, one that is inclusive of all the differences—all the ways to live out our own, wonderful lives—all the ways that can express God’s love.  We must not live by “black and white” rules, that so many today can’t live by. We need to allow God’s love to open up, to grow. 

   Jesus supported and called women to serve, and so should real Eucharistic people support God’s call to women to be ordained—a Church that acts through half of the people, and one gender at that, to tell its people how to follow God’s call, instead of letting that work to the Spirit, seems to not be attentive to “every word coming from the mouth of God.” 

   What I see wrong with the “return” to a theology of pre-Vatican II rituals is that it leaves the Eucharist, “a static thing” and it was always, I believe, meant to be an active word, a verb!  As Paul says in the 2nd reading today from Corinthians, “Because the loaf of bread is one, we who are many are one body.”  That’s quite clear to me—we are all invited!  How dare any cleric ever refuse the Eucharist to someone who presents themselves, telling them, “No, you aren’t yet fit to receive” what our brother Jesus so freely gave, to everyone.

   Then we come to John’s gospel message of Jesus’ words to the people of his time about the “real” food he was offering them. We see the Temple authorities asking, “How can this be?” and it is because they are looking at just the literal meaning, which unfortunately, many still do today.  Diane Bergant, Scripture scholar, states that “blood symbolized life itself,” and for us, that means the life of Jesus, his words—his actions—all that he taught about living-loving, dying and rising to a new place.

    She goes on, “the significance of the cup of wine is not in its material substance, but in its incorporation of the partakers in the blood of Christ”—in other words, the sharing of Jesus’ “essence” with the community is where the true goodness lies. This feast of Corpus Christi, the Body of Christ, should not leave us “settled” in simply, worshipping the body and blood on the altar, because if it does, perhaps we have missed the point of this feast.  Jesus never asked us to worship him in the elements of bread and wine, but to care for his “body” in the world.

   Exegetes continue; breaking bread with someone was looked at in the time of Jesus as a sign of forming community with them.  Jesus raised that to a new level in saying that sharing Eucharistic bread forms us into the body of Christ.  In other words, when we eat regular food, we incorporate that food into our very selves.  The opposite is true with the Eucharist, Bergant says.  When we partake of Eucharistic bread; we are transformed into Eucharistic bread, meaning—we become Jesus’ body for the world. 

   Looking at the Eucharist in this way, is indeed another level—receiving communion is not just between us and God, but us, (think Jesus) and our world. Receiving communion is a community action for the larger community.

   In the Gospel from John, Bergant tells us that “flesh and blood,” on a literal level, was a common way of characterizing a human being—when applied to Jesus, speaking of Jesus’ flesh and blood is our proclamation of faith in the incarnation—the fact that Jesus became one of us to have a human experience, thus telling us how much we are loved by our God—that God in Jesus would go to that extent to make sure that we creatures know how important we are to the Creator.  Jesus became one of us, flesh, and blood through his entire life; not just when he gave us the Eucharist. When we make conscious efforts to live as Jesus, we do give his “body and blood,” on a deeper level, to our world.

   In conclusion then my friends, this feast should embolden each of us as Jesus’ followers to go out into our lovely world and see each and all we meet as loved by our God—in Jesus—as his body and blood, and adore, respect, and honor each one, in the same way, as many did in Mankato yesterday, but only in the elements of bread and wine.  Jesus called, and continues to call us to so much more! Amen? Amen!