“You satisfy the hungry heart, with gift of finest wheat” was the theme song of the International Eucharistic Conference in Philadelphia in 1976. I’ve loved that song every time we’ve sung it at Good Shepherd through these 48 years.
It runs through my heart as I write this last reflection for A Catholic Moment. Today’s readings begin a five-week series on the Eucharist, temporarily leaving the Gospel of Mark for the Gospel of John. John and Mark give similar details about how five loaves and two fish fed 5000 people, but action-writer Mark moves to Jesus’ other mighty deeds, while reflective-writer John provides the basis for the seriousness with which the Catholic Church proclaims that when Jesus said on Holy Thursday, “This is my body; this is my blood,” he was not speaking in metaphor or symbol. When Jesus said, “Do this in memory of me,” he didn’t mean simply to do a liturgical ceremony to commemorate him. He meant to make the blessing and offering of bread and wine in what we know as “the mass” to be a memorial in the sense that the yearly memorial of the Passover in Jewish faith was not just to think about or honor, but to make the reality of the Passover that happened the night before the Israelites left Egypt into a reality for the Jewish people forever.
And when Jesus said on Holy Thursday, “I am with you always,” he did not mean just in Spirit. He meant that because he was going to die AND RISE FROM THE DEAD, and BECAUSE HE WAS GOD, he would be, and IS with us even today in reality. He is really and truly, soul and divinity, PRESENT and PHYSICALLY REAL in the Eucharist. He remains in the host bread and wine as long as it remains bread and wine.
Jesus comes. Jesus stays. Across the world. Through the centuries. Jesus, the GREAT I AM, is God and chooses to remain with his people until he comes in glory. HE IS. And he satisfies the hungry heart.
Our Readings Today 2 Kings 4:42-44, Ephesians 4:1-6, John 6:1-15
The Old Testament reading comes from 2 Kings. The great prophet Elijah has gone in a chariot of fire to heaven, leaving Elisha as the prophet for Israel. Joram, son of Ahab, is king. He, like pretty much all of the kings in 2 Kings, “did evil in the sight of the Lord.” Yet in Chapters 4, 5, and 6 there are stories of great miracles. One of them is the reading today. There is little food in a time of famine. A farmer brings his first-fruits to Elisha as an offering. Instead of eating them himself, Elisha has them fed to the people. The loaves multiply to satisfy the people and leave leftovers.
The purpose of this reading is to show that what Jesus did when he fed the 5000 and when he feeds us is an understandable action of our loving God. God reveals Himself more in Jesus than he did through Elisha, but the nature of God which is demonstrated is the same.
The reading from Ephesians points out the unity which Christ intends. You might remember from last week’s reflection that the community at Ephesus was filled with conflict when Paul wrote this letter. Here he reminds the Ephesians and us that THERE IS ONE BODY AND ONE SPIRIT. Living in that one body and one Spirit with others is another way that God satisfies the hungry heart.
The Gospel is John’s version of feeding the 5000. The last sentence is especially important. “Since Jesus knew that they were going to come and carry him off to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain alone.”
Why is this sentence so important? Because it introduces the narrative of what happened AFTER people ate their fill. What began as a picnic on a hillside became a great turning point for Jesus and for his followers.
What did Jesus mean when he said, “I myself am the bread of life?” People did not understand. They said what people had said in Nazareth, “Is this not Jesus, the son of Joseph? Do we not know his father and mother?”
Jesus did not satisfy the hungry crowds with ordinary bread, but his feeding ordinary bread paved the way for John to give us a solid scriptural theology for our understanding of the Eucharist.
Applications for Today
The controversy goes on today. Is it REALLY GOD in that bread and wine? If it is truly God, why would he make Himself so vulnerable to us as to be eaten by us, consumed by us. When the host and wine cease to be discernable as elements, Jesus is no longer physically present. That means, if you think about it, that Jesus gives himself up to die to enter into me and my life EVERY TIME I receive communion. He gives himself up to die to enter into me whether I just went to confession or whether I am in an active state of sin. He gives himself up to be present to me in the host bread and wine I receive—and to you….and you….and you….and….
As I have said in previous posts, God and the church in the words of the Eucharistic prayer ask us to put ourselves on the altar, too. When the priest says, “Through Him, with Him, in Him, in the unity of the Holy Spirit,” we, laity or religious, are encouraged to offer our lives to the Father, too. We, too, are to give our lives to feed hungry hearts.
Today’s World and Our Call to Evangelization
While writing this, I paused to check my email. I saw a letter from Bishop Cozzens, Chair of the US National Eucharistic Congress, commenting on what seems to have been a horrible parody of the Last Supper at the opening of the Paris Olympics. I checked out the news, and that interpretation of what was presented seems valid.
There is nausea in me right now that brings tears.
My Own Call and Response
Ten years ago another member of a Theological Reflection Group at St. Meinrad School of Theology asked if I would like to write reflections for A Catholic Moment.
I said yes. At that time, I was an experienced author of secular psychology skills training curricula, but I had never written from Scripture or for increasing people’s understanding of Scripture. I gave it a try and have continued to write for 10 years. The last three years have been on the Sunday readings—which was a real stretch for me.
The stretch and you, the readers, have been good for me and for my prayer. I’ve gone from infant level lectio divina to “this is my staff of life lectio divina.” I have smiled many times at a memory. When I told my father in 1969 that I was going to become Catholic, he gave me a semi-blessing, adding, “The one regret I have about this is that you will never study Scripture again.” That was a legitimate concern in 1969. It is not a legitimate comment today. Thanks to what began with writing for A Catholic Moment, I am a voracious student of Scripture today. My heart stays hungry, and God feeds me.
So why am I leaving? Others can write these reflections, and there are many excellent commentaries on the Sunday and daily readings by people far wiser than me.
I will miss all you readers who write comments or write to me via email. I count many of you as good friends. I am sad to not have this weekly meeting.
But…
Time has come to trade this and similar semi-evangelist activities for more overt ones. A series of experiences over the past four months make it clear that the time is now for me to move into more direct proclamation of God’s Good News and Way of Life.
I have to let go of most everything I’ve been doing to see where God will lead me now. It isn’t just a matter of time; it is a matter of focus.
If I have been helpful to you and you would like to stay in contact, for future relevant writings or for friendship, send an email to mary@skillswork.org with your name and email address. I will keep it for future writing or perhaps even future zoom discussion groups. That will not happen until 2025, but I would be happy for your address. I will not/would not pass it on to others.
Love,
Mary
Prayer
May God bless each and every reader and writers of A Catholic Moment with deep faith, fervent love, steadfast hope, and contagious joy—today, tomorrow, and until we meet in heaven. And may God feed you daily with the great treasure of Himself. Amen.
