February 1981
"Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in them." (John 6:56)
Whoever eats me will live because of me. (John 6:57). Language can mislead us. The same word often carries very different meanings. We must look at context to grasp its full weight.
Words like nourishment, to nourish, to eat—these are clear enough in daily life. But when we speak of the Eucharist, they point to something else entirely. Something both like and unlike what we ordinarily mean.
When I eat bread, legumes, meat, I take these foods to sustain myself, to make them become part of me. I digest them and benefit. What is eaten becomes the one who eats. It vanishes into my being.
When I feed on the Eucharist, I eat the Body and Blood of Christ—but not to absorb him into myself, not to make him part of me. Rather, the opposite. It is Jesus himself, my nourishment, who assimilates me into him. My transformed life becomes, more and more, his life.
Reflecting this way, I discover what my deepest disposition must be when I receive Jesus. I do not receive him to possess him. I receive him to be possessed, to surrender myself to him.
My heart must be entirely poor, free from all desire to possess, ready to let myself be invaded, possessed, transformed by the One who gives himself to me. Many of my communions bear no fruit because I am not so disposed.
Is not the first fruit of the Eucharist to make me, day by day, more of a "given" self—offered to the Father and to my brothers and sisters, as Jesus was: "This is my body, offered in sacrifice for you. This is my blood, poured out for you and for all"?
Lord Jesus, transform me, mold me into your likeness. Let me become, each day, a little more like you—given wholly to the Father and to my brothers and sisters.
Father André Delpierre (Belgium)
Beyond Words
Natalia was not like other children. She could not, as children her age could, discover the face of Jesus in catechism lessons, in beautiful books, in beautiful phrases. She was so poor that even words were too difficult for her. Yet she too needed to meet Jesus.
This taught me that Jesus lives in each of us. I needed only to live my faith, to let my gestures be gestures of love—gestures of Jesus within me—and she would see in them a face of peace, of joy: the face of Jesus.
So I loved her. I loved her with all I had. And in that love, she found him. Natalia then asked for Love. She called out to Jesus. And to satisfy this hunger, she came to the table and broke bread with us—bread of love.
In her expression of peace, we could see the face of Jesus that lived in her.
Françoise Lacoste, Belgium
Suggestions
- Search the Gospel to see how Jesus invites us to move from food that perishes to food that lasts for eternal life. (Especially John 2 on wine, John 4 on water, John 6 on bread)
- February: the Feast of Light! Set aside a time for silent adoration, during Mass or at another moment: arrange flowers and candles to symbolize the preparation of our hearts; reread John 6:56.