Jesus’ desire is for his people to live so close to him that his life becomes our life, and this is manifested in his flesh and blood.
Seeds:
First Reading: Proverbs 9:1-6
Psalm: Psalm 33(34):2-3,10-15
Second Reading: Ephesians 5:15-20
Gospel: John 6:51-58
Sapling:
It’s rare, in the lectionary, that our reading from Paul and our reading from the gospels neatly fit together, but I think they do today.
Last week, we looked at the work of the Father in drawing us to Jesus. Today, we look at consuming the flesh and blood of Jesus and being filled with the Holy Spirit as if with wine. So, just like last week, we might need to suspend our 21st century rationality for a moment and allow the scriptures to take us somewhere deeper.
Let’s begin with Jesus: having been drawn by the Father to come to Jesus and recognise him in the bread of life, we’re now told – perhaps predictably – to eat that bread.
The sense of revulsion in Jesus’ listeners is palpable, and understandably so! I think they understood on some level the gravity of what Jesus was saying: here was a man, standing in front of them, telling them to be eat his flesh and live forever.
I think we need to feel that shock for ourselves a little, because it helps let Jesus’ words sink in.
At this point, Jesus could’ve backtracked, or taken his disciples aside and ‘explained the parable’ as a metaphor, as he usually did. But, in this case, he didn’t do that; he doubled down, and doubled down hard.
Here’s the stark equation that Jesus put before these repulsed and confused people: eating Jesus’ flesh = life. Not eating Jesus’ flesh = death.
Jesus also repeats a phrase he used last week: “I will raise them up on the last day”. Last week that was in the context of being drawn to Jesus by the Father, this week it’s related to eating Jesus’ flesh and drinking his blood: so John wants us to see a connection here, eating and drinking this divine food is a result of being drawn to Jesus by the Father. Again, this defies human logic and sensibilities, it needs God to act in order to really understand it.
There’s a key line in the last part of this gospel reading, as well: “he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood lives in me and I live in him. As I, who am sent by the living Father, myself draw life from the Father, so whoever eats me will draw life from me.”
This is the crux of this passage: eternal life comes not as a divine writ, some kind of certificate we can present at the end of our lives. It comes by becoming partakers in the only real eternal life, which is God’s.
Jesus gives us his flesh to eat and blood to drink because by doing so he literally becomes our food, and the “nutrients” of his own divine life get “absorbed” into our own bloodstream and give vitality to our souls.
But, as we know, the divine life is triune, because God is Trinity. We’ve seen how the Father draws us into this intimate sharing in Jesus’ life, but what about the Spirit?
Paul again draws our eyes to the image of wine, and we’d do well to remember that in the Mass it’s the power of the Spirit that’s called down on the bread and wine to make them the Body and Blood of Jesus.
But what is Paul doing here? He wants us to grasp something quite visceral, in fact. We’ve soared off to lofty heights in John’s gospel, but Paul brings us appropriately back down to earth with a thud. He is saying, essentially, this: you can see when a person is drunk, you also ought to be able to see when someone is filled with the Spirit.
Notice how extraordinary that claim is! When a person is drunk there are unmistakeable external signs, you can’t miss it! That is how someone filled with the divine life ought to be: visibly different!
When the Father moves in our hearts, when we eat the Flesh and drink the Blood of the Son, when we’re filled with the Spirit: people should sense a palpable difference in us. Do they?
Fruit: