By Fr. Bob Williams

On the first day of Unleavened Bread, when the Passover lamb is sacrificed, the disciples said to Jesus, "Where do you want us to go and make preparations for you to eat the Passover?" So Jesus sent two of his disciples, saying to them, "Go into the city, and a man carrying a jar of water will meet you; follow him, and whatever he enters, say to the owner of the house, 'The Teacher asks, "Where is my guest room where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?"' He will show you a large room upstairs, furnished and ready. Make preparations for us there."

So the disciples set out and went to the city, and found everything as he had told them; and they prepared the Passover meal.

While they were eating, Jesus took a loaf of bread, and after blessing it he broke it, gave it to them, and said, "Take; this is my body."

Then he took the cup, and after giving thanks he gave it to them, and all of them drank from it. He said to them, "This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many. Truly I tell you, I will never drink of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God."

When they had sung the hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.

- Mark 14:12-16, 22-26

Sacrifice is a word that has not been heard too much in recent years. So let us review its history and significance in religion. Basically, sacrifice is the way a person shows God praise, lets God know that he or she wishes to communicate, and submits to God's will in all things.

In ancient religions, human sacrifice was practiced. This was prohibited under the law of Moses for the Israelites. The Israelites substituted animals and products of the earth. Among the pegan Babylonians, a meal became a part of the sacrifice, the belief being that they were sharing food with the invisible gods. The Phoenicians first attributed importance to the blood that flowed from a sacrifice and used it to bless articles as well as people. The Hebrews felt that a person should always carry a gift when appearing before their master, who in religion, was Yahweh, who had made a covenant with them.

Ritual sacrifice was performed by the Jewish priests, acting as ministers for the worshipers who gave the best they had. However in their wandering, the Israelites let abuses creep in, and prophets rose up and warned the people that the Lord desired love and knowledge of God rather than empty sacrifices. Just before Christ's coming, obligation and routine replaced the real intent and meaning of sacrifice as freely given gift.

In the new covenant Jesus used the very words of Moses: "This is the blood of the covenant which the Lord has made with you" (Exodus 24:8). Before Jesus only the High Priest could enter the Holy of Holies to offer the sacrifices of worshipers. St. Paul, speaking in a language and of a ritual well known to his audience, pulled together the foreshadowing of Jesus' sacrifice by these commanded, but insufficient, sacrifices of the old law. Jesus, as the perfect High Priest, entered once and for all into the sanctuary of heaven, offering his own blood for the forgiveness of sins, thereby obtaining redemption (salvation) of all humankind. "This is why he is the mediator of the new covenant" (Hebrew, 9: 15) At the Last Supper, his body and blood were sacrificed, and were consumed in an unbloody way that was to stay forever present.

With his awesome words, after changing bread and wine into his body and blood, Jesus said: "Do this as a remembrance of me" (Luke 22:19) By this he did not mean a simple recall of his sacrifice. In the Jewish mentality, a memorial ritual was believed to involve the real presence of the saving action of Yahweh. For instance, in the Passover feast, it not only commemorated the liberation of the Hebrews from the slavery of Egypt, but also meant a sharing in the protection by Yahweh of all the participants of the meal. This was also the view of the primitive church: the real Presence of Jesus and his redemptive sacrifice were in each Eucharistic memorial celebration.

It is literally true that we physically are what we eat. By the miracle of organic chemistry, the substances of mineral, vegetable and animal are transformed in the substances of our own bodies. The cells and fibres of other beings are transmuted into the organs and limbs of human beings. We see and smell and touch through the physical matter of other lesser beings. So we can say, "To eat is to live."

Although we do not see this happening, we believe it happens because we see the results. But there is another transubstantiation we believe without seeing: The substance of bread and wine becomes the substance of Christ's body and blood. But then another miracle happens. While the physical elements of bread and wine change into the flesh and blood, an unseen transformation is taking place. Christ's flesh and blood becomes our flesh and blood. Jesus himself lives through us. Through the mystery of the Eucharist, Jesus himself sees and hears and touches with our eyes and ears and fingers. Food, glorious food! But more on this later.

Then a third mystery happens, if we let it. Thomas Aquinas insisted not only that the body of Christ becomes our body but that we are conformed to Christ in communion. Every time we attentively eat his body and drink, we are drawn more deeply into his life, into the way he thought and felt and hoped and acted. To paraphrase the apostle Paul, "We no longer live, it is Christ living in us!" To eat is to live.

Extraordinary things happen when we gather our ordinary selves around the table of the Lord. A few simple prayers, and the bread and wine are forever changed. Then we eat a morsel of bread, drink a sip of wine and our lives are totally transformed. A feast fit for kings and queens!

But, as in all joyous times that are truly real and fully human, there is an undertow of sadness. It is the quiet realization that life comes at the cost of death. It is the silent admission that carrots and cows did not freely give their lives so we could live. They did not leap out of the earth or dance to the butcher's block, they were wrenched from the dirt and dragged to the slaughter.

And so was Jesus. Though he did it willingly, it was no less painful. He actually was flayed alive, stabbed and crucified. That is why Paul said, "When ever you eat his flesh and drink his blood, you proclaim his death" (1 Colossians 11:26). For us to eat is for somebody else to die.

But as in all tragic experiences that are truly real and fully human, there is a countercurrent of joy. When we eat Christ's body, we are not scavengers pecking carrion from a drying skeleton. We are not vultures eking our existence from the corpse of Christ. Christ is alive! The flesh we eat and the blood we drink are the resurrected reality of Jesus. More amazing than the transformation of his earthly body into his heavenly body. More miraculous than our Eucharist drawing the essence of Jesus out of bread is the love of the Father warming the essential Jesus out of cold death.

The bread we eat here is the breathing, victorious body of Christ; the wine we drink here is the pulsing, intoxicating blood of Jesus. What food! What glorious food! When we celebrate the Body and Blood of Christ, we can easily focus our attention on the bread and cup and say "Christ is here among us." But that is only the beginning. Difficulty frequently arises when we consider the rest of the mystery. Because of the covenant freely offered by God in Christ, the body of Christ is no longer just the body of Jesus the Nazareth. The body of Christ is also all of us who are baptized into this mystery.

We don't mean that we are Christ's body only figuratively - any more than the bread and wine on the altar are only signs of the presence of Christ. No. We are the body of Christ. When we receive the Eucharist the words, "The body of Christ" are said. These words do not merely refer to the host we are receiving but also to us. We are being called by name. We are the body of Christ.

 

 

 

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