Approaching Jesus Today
Homily, June 1, 1972, Feast of Corpus Christi, Pope Paul VI
Let us try to understand something of this mystery, for, first of all, "sacrament" means something concealed. That is, concealed, and at the same time manifested; concealed in its tangible reality, but manifested through some sign. What is the reality in question? Nothing less than Jesus Christ, really and truly he, as he is now in heaven, in the glory of the Father. And through what sign is he represented to us? A sign that recalls him as he was at the last supper, nay rather as he was in his sacrifice on the cross, because also the last supper was a sign, a figure representing the passion.
The Eucharist is a sign, a memory; but not just a sign, it is a sign that contains the reality it signifies. It contains Jesus, clothed for us in the Eucharist under the signs of bread and wine, which contain and are, by means of a miracle essential change, "transubstantiation," the flesh and blood of Christ, that is, Jesus in the state of a victim, a sacrifice.
WHY IS JESUS PRESENT?
We marvel at it, but we are confused. Why did Jesus wish to become present in this way? This question is not indiscreet, if expressed with humble and loving sincerity. Let us look carefully, for there would be a great many things to say; let us choose the one that seems the most simple and important. What was the intention of Jesus in instituting the Eucharist? Even a child instructed in the catechism, even a member of the faithful looking at these wonderful things, can answer, and they say: Jesus instituted this sacrament for Communion to those who receive him.
What does it mean to make one's First Communion, or to receive Holy Communion? It means to receive that wonderful sacrament of the Eucharist, that is, the Lord's body and blood, as one's food, as the nourishment of one's life. Jesus wished to put himself in such a condition as to be able to be the interior and vivifying nourishment of our human and present existence. Remember Jesus' own words, explicit, though difficult to understand: "I am the bread of life. . . . I am the living bread. . . . He who eats my flesh, and drinks my blood, lives in me, and I in him. . . . If anyone eats of this bread, he shall live forever" (Jn 6). Difficult words, we repeat; but they are the words of the Lord, real words.
In conclusion, what did the Lord mean when he made known his intention to become food for his faithful, those, that is, who accept his word and believe in it, and welcome this superlative "mystery of faith"? He wished to make possible, nay rather obligatory, our "communion" with him. Communion? Yes, communion, that is, a close, deep, perfect union. A kind of mystical symbiosis, as Saint Paul said: "For me, to live is Christ" (Phil 1:21). But is it possible, let us say, physically? How can Jesus be approached by us, by each of us? Jesus who lived so many centuries ago, Jesus who lived in a distant village? Time and space separate us from him. How is it possible and then how is it morally possible, for each of us, for us sinners, to come into contact with him, the Son of the living God and himself God, the Messiah, the Savior of the world, the firstborn of redeemed mankind, the center of history and of the world? (cf. Col. 1). One cannot help saying, with the centurion of the Gospel: "Lord, I am not worthy!" (cf. Lk 7:6). Yet his words ring out as follows: "Come to me . . ." (Mt 11:28).
We must stop here. He who understands true things, deep things, he who has the courage of truth and love, he who has divined what is the creative word that comes from the lips of Christ, who multiplied the loaves to feed the multitude, in a word, he who believes in Christ, must say to himself: I, too, am invited. He is the bread of life for me too; communion with him is ready, it is offered for me, too.
Provided I am purified from sin, I, too, whoever I am, little, wretched, unhappy, ill and old, or burdened, overburdened with toil and tasks, I, too, am invited. He is waiting for me; he is for me. "He loved me and gave himself for me" (Gal 2:20). Communion is ready. We are all awaited at the table of the Lord, who wishes to incorporate himself, by incorporating himself in us.
The marvel is complete. The door to the new life, transcending the plane of natural life, is open. The life of Christ's kingdom, even at the levels of spiritual intensity, mystical experience, the prelude and pledge of eternal life, is also for me, everyone can say. Communion with Christ, at an extremely personal depth, is for me.
SOURCE OF BROTHERLY LOVE
But that is not all; there is more, much more. This elementary reflection on the Eucharist reveals to us another communion. Yes, there are two communions produced by the Eucharist. One is with Christ, as we said. The other is with [our fellow] men [and women]. More precisely: it is with those who sit at the same divine table, who eat the same living bread, which is Christ. We all know Saint Paul's revealing words in this connection. He writes: "Is not the bread we break a participation in Christ's body? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread" (cf. 1 Cor 10:16-17). In this way, our individual Communion with Christ produces a social communion with Christians. The same divine life circulates in the whole community of those who share the same faith, the same grace, the same ecclesial society, nay more: the same mystical body of Christ, which is the church. The real and sacramental body of the Lord nourishes the spiritual and social body which we are, members of mankind joined in Christ, and makes it live by his Spirit.
Great importance must be given to this fundamental theology, which establishes a correspondence between the two communions, one with the living, personal Christ in heaven, who grants himself to us in the memorial and sacrificial sign of the love he lavished on us, the other with Christ present in men who have become our brothers by identical love.
The theme opens up other avenues of thought: the second communion, fellowship with one's brothers, is indicated by the Lord as a prerequisite in order to sit at his table (cf. Mt 5:23). One cannot approach the altar with hatred in one's heart, or with the remorse of having offended a brother; and one cannot leave the Lord's table, forgetting the "new commandment" that he transmitted to us with deliberate gravity, in giving himself to us: "Love one another, even as I have loved you" (Jn 13:34). The Eucharist becomes in us the great source of brotherly love, nay more, of social charity. We who honor the Eucharist should show in feeling, thought, and practice that we really love our neighbor, even the one that does not sit at the Lord's table with us, even the neighbor who still lacks communion of faith, hope, charity, and ecclesial union, or who lacks something necessary for life: dignity, defense, assistance, education, work, bread, optimism, friendship. Every human deficiency becomes a program in Christ's school.
The lesson of love, which gushes forth from the Eucharist, must find us all pupils ready to forgive, to do good, to serve our neighbor, to the full extent of our possibilities. This is not utopia, it is not hyperbole; it is the root of human society, not based on selfishness, hatred, vendetta, violence, but on love. After the Eucharist, this will be the distinguishing feature of the various disciples: the art of loving one another (Jn 13:35; 15:12).
Oh, beloved brothers and sons, listening to our humble voice, do listen to the divine voice that speaks from the sacrament which we are adoring and meditating upon, for your salvation, for the honor of Christian Rome, for the prosperity and peace of the world in which we live; the invitation to sacramental Communion with Christ, and to social communion in Christ with all people.