June 26, 2011
Reading I: Deuteronomy 8:2‑3, 14b‑16a
Responsorial Psalm: 147:12‑13, 14‑15, 19‑20
Reading II: 1 Corinthians 10:16‑17
Gospel: John 6:51‑58
We had an interesting exchange of views and attitudes just a week ago on the popular DB Catholica. There's so much to say: probably a good enough reason to keep it short.
The Feast of Corpus Christi dates from 1264, to commemorate “a Eucharistic miracle at Bolsena, in which a consecrated host began to bleed.” The feast was celebrated with the eucharistic procession at Orvieto. Thomas Aquinas was teaching there at the time, and he composed the liturgy, including the hymn 'Pange lingua' (of which the 'Tantum ergo' is part).
For history see Wiki at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corpus_Christi_%28feast%29
For text see Wiki at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pange_Lingua_Gloriosi_Corporis_Mysterium
For the sequence, 'Lauda Sion', at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lauda_sion
It is very interesting that Aquinas places the emphasis on the miraculous change which in his theological teaching he called ‘transsubstantiation’. Good theology for its time no doubt, but very poor spirituality for ours. Interesting to speculate on how the history of christianity might have developed had the mystery of the eucharist not been interpreted in terms of the miraculous sacramental/ontological change in the bread and wine, but instead in terms of its dynamic challenge which we are currently trying to appreciate.
Today’s second reading (1 Cor 10:16‑17) is one of the most powerful explanations of the Eucharist in the New Testament. Note that it is chosen in the modern lectionary ahead of the one Aquinas chose in the 13th century ((1 Cor 11:23‑29).
Brothers and sisters:
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.
I will not be there to celebrate Corpus Christi, but if I were, towards the end of the ritual I would be presented with a piece of broken bread, and with the words 'The Body of Christ' I would be invited to ‘participation in the [broken] body of Christ’. It is really a pity that the emphasis on the miracle of transsubstantiation has caused this idea to be neglected. Of course, it is much easier to go 'ooh' and 'aah' at the miracle than to recognise the broken body of Christ in the real world.
Because the loaf of bread is one [and has to be broken to be shared], so we, though many, are one body, for we all partake of the one loaf.
Refugee week has been the occasion for SBS to give us the series: Go back to where you came from, in which we have been invited to share the experience of tracing the refugee journey in reverse, alongside six brave volunteers. The broken body of Christ meets us at every turn in truly frightening numbers. During one lifetime whole populations have had the fabric of their lives shredded, orderly and ancient communities have been ripped apart, millions forced to flee for their lives - only to spend the rest of their years in miserable camps or as 'illegals' crowded together for fear in tiny tenements in the filthy back streets of uncaring cities. Children born in those places forced to remain indoors until they are old enough to scavenge on the streets at night for work, likely to be arrested, caned, imprisoned or deported back to where they came from, there to be treated with the disdain we reserve for escapers returned, and shot like dogs. The world is awash with refugees: 43.7 million displaced: a reality beyond politics (ABC). The whole of humanity is broken. It is only a matter of time before the tidal wave of chaos breaks over us.
Why would Christ not care? He has done all he could, to the point of standing firm before the authorities in witness to the truth, and then having his body broken. As I join the communion queue I must ask: Am I going to say Yes to this eucharist?
If so, then it is Yes to being part of this broken body, not only in compassion but in care. Those who have been abused continue to call for action, and yet the silent majority of ordinary catholics remains silent. If Tom McMahon is right, www.catholica.com.au/forum/index.php?id=78104, every mass and every meeting of christians should have the hurting as its primary focus. Families do no less.
Those who are locked in detention centres for years on end want only to be allowed to make a life of their own, and they are systematically constrained to idleness as if in punishment for daring to want to share a tiny bit of our opulence. As national policy we block them - as if this wealth were ours by some god-given exclusive right.
It is, I believe, impossible or even dangerous to participate in eucharist if we fail to recognise the body of Christ, the broken body. I wonder what would happen if a parish really marshalled all its energies actually to take care of all the poor in its area. They may not have much time left for church affairs. They may not have much money left for worship things. What would happen?
Photo credit: www.refugeesinternational.org/blog/photo-report/somalia-worsening-displacement-crisis