In chapter 3 of John’s Gospel Jesus says this: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.”[1] He was teaching Nicodemus, and us, that we must believe in him to have “eternal life.”
But then, if you read on, three more chapters to today’s passage, Jesus says this: “I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever…Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you.”[2] Here Jesus was adding to it—to what he said in chapter 3—that in order to “live forever,” we must eat this bread, the “flesh of the Son of Man.”
Not just to believe in the Son; also to eat the flesh of the Son—both are necessary to have eternal life—“unless you eat,” Jesus said. And here, suddenly, we come to the belief of Catholics and to what separates us from many of our Protestant brothers and sisters whom we love and respect: because we kept on reading the Gospel of John, not just chapter 3 but chapter 6 as well.
This is why we take about a month, stepping away from Mark’s Gospel, to remember what Jesus taught at Capernaum in John 6. Because it’s important, eternally so, because “unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you.”
But I don’t want to talk too much about that. Yes, you need to believe this, you must eat this body and drink this blood. If you were ever to contemplate leaving for another church that didn’t have this bread, all I can say is: What on earth are you thinking? Yes, Pew research suggests few people believe what the Gospel and the Church teach here. Okay, but does that have anything to do with the truth? It’s true whether you believe it or not; that’s what’s great about truth. The Church isn’t to be pitied and worried about, you are. Good luck with all that sophisticated scoffing; it means nothing against the truth.
Now the truth about the Eucharist is actually not that hard to come by. Humble faith is the quickest way to come to the truth, but if you want to dive into it, study it, the truth is there; Scripture and tradition do make sense here. You just have to pay more attention to the thing than you pay attention to your phone—at least for a little bit, until you are, as we used to say, “illumined,” and the eyes of your mind are opened.
But as I said, I don’t want to talk about that.
You see, as I’ve been reading through the whole of John 6 again, what has struck me this time is the difference between what we want from God and what God wants to give us. That seems to be a constant point of contention in this chapter—as well as between us and God, between me and God at least. What I want from God isn’t always what God wants to give me. And, of course, I get mad at God for that; I can even begin to think God doesn’t love me because I don’t get what I want. I acted like that with my mother when I was kid. What I want from God is different from what God wants to give me. That happens a lot. But whose problem is that? God’s problem or mine?
I mean, let’s look at the whole of John 6, which is what the Church has been asking us to pay attention to for a month now.
The chapter begins with the feeding of the multitudes where the crowd is so impressed that they want to make Jesus a king. He is a king, of course, but they want a different kind of king; they want a political savior. They want Jesus to fix their political troubles, help them kick out the Romans and all the other corrupt political figures ruing their world. That’s what they want, a political fix. But Jesus escapes; he doesn’t let them make him a king like that. That’s what they wanted, but that’s not what Jesus wanted to give them.[4]
But a little later, he talks to them about the bread they ate, how it filled them; it likely saved some of them, wandering out there in the wilderness. And that’s when Jesus begins to tell them about the bread from heaven, the bread of life. “Give us this bread, always,” they tell him.[5] Now they want what Jesus is proposing to give them; they’ve made progress. Or have they? Do they really want what Jesus is offering them? I’m not so sure.
I think they were still wanting bread in the old-fashioned way; they were wanting to have their stomachs filled without worry. To put it in abstract terms, what they wanted from Jesus was material provision. Their thinking was still worldly; their mind was exactly where our minds are when we ask Jesus for that nice car, that nice house, whatever that material thing is we’ve fixed our desires on. Is that really wanting what Jesus wants? I just don’t think so. I don’t think God cares about our stuff like that.
I mean, why would they “murmur” and even “quarrel” when Jesus finally tells them about what he really wants to give them: “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?”[6] That’s what Jesus wants to give them—not a political fix, not material stuff—but something better than that; he wants to give them his very self, his body and blood, his true body and true blood.[7] But it’s interesting, tragic really and sad a little, that that is exactly the moment when the people start to complain: when Jesus finally tells them what he really wants to give them; because they didn’t want that; they wanted something else, something less.
And so, what do we do with this? The questions, I think, are these: What do you want? Where are you in all this? Do you want Jesus to make a quick fix of politics? I don’t think that’s going to happen; my guess is Jesus will slip through the crowds of those asking him for that. Do you want him to make your life more comfortable? Do you want him to help you with your bills, help you in the stock market? I think there’s a chance that’s not going to happen. I’m not belittling any of those wants; I’m just trying to tell you that I think what we should really want—before wanting any of that—is what Jesus clearly wants to give us—and that is himself, from this altar, for the salvation of your soul, for eternal life.
But the question is whether that makes you murmur in disbelief or disappointment, whether it makes you wander off to some other church that puts on a good show or maybe has a coffee shop; or whether it makes you pray to want what God wants for you—body, blood, and eternal life—that is, what is offered here. Amen.
-Fr. Joshua J. Whitfield
[1] John 3:16
[2] John 6:51-53
[4] John 6:1-15
[5] John 6:34
[6] John 6:52
[7] John 6:55
© 2024 Rev. Joshua J. Whitfield
