The scandal of eucharistic living

Corpus Christi

Sunday 7 June 2026

Lectio Divina:*

Deuteronomy 8:2-3, 14-16 Psalm 147

1 Corinthians10:16-17 John 6:51-58

Meditatio:

‘..hose who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day.’  (John 6:54)

 

Commentary:

In the 1986 film The Mission, set in South America in the 1750s, the Jesuit priest Fr Gabriel leads the people forward, carrying the monstrance with the Blessed Sacrament as a joint Portuguese–Spanish force opens fire. The brutal destruction of the people – and the falling of the monstrance – becomes a powerful cinematic image of Christ’s Body suffering in the poor and the oppressed. After Fr Gabriel is cut down, a small child picks up the monstrance and continues the procession. Only a handful escape into the jungle.

Witness, community, persecution, violence, death, scattering, remnant, and new life: flesh, bread, life.

'.....my flesh....'

 “I am the living bread,” declares Jesus in Jesus 6:51. What does this mean for us today?

Bread has always been a basic part of human life. Together with water, it sustains and restores the body. In this sense, bread is a sign of life itself. Yet Jesus reminds us that our lives are sustained by more than physical nourishment: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God’ (Matthew 4:4).

We recognise this in our own experience. Our lives are nourished not only by food, but also by love, acceptance, truth, and relationships. Even within Scripture, the prophet Jeremiah speaks of God’s word as something to be ‘eaten’, a way of describing how deeply it can nourish and transform us from within (Jeremiah 15:16).

Corpus Christi – Then and Now: Ireland and Croatia

It has been many decades – perhaps four – since I last attended a Corpus Christi procession. That would have been in Dublin where I grew up. It was, typically, a regular annual event involving the local community: families and individuals processing along a public road from the parish church to a designated outdoor altar. Households were encouraged not only to attend, but also to decorate their homes – many putting up bunting or floral displays along the route.

The highlight was Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament at a public place prepared for the occasion. The atmosphere was solemn, joyful and dignified – a genuine expression of shared belief. For various reasons the practice largely died out in Ireland, probably towards the late 1980s.

Whom do I seek?

 

The Bread of Life is a painting by Michael Torevell 

Three serious questions are asked here.

What is it that I seek in life?

Where do I  find joy in my life right now?

Do I find joy in what I seek?

When, as we read in John 6:22-37, Jesus and his disciples saw the crowds looking for them on the other side of sea in the area of Capernaum they knew that the miraculous and the extraordinary had drawn them.  The people were seeking the miracle more than the sign that the evangelist, John, wishes to highlight.

Like the people who followed Jesus to the other side of the lake we can miss the Signs of God in our chaotic, broken but beautiful and mystery-laden world. We seek the wrong type of bread in the wrong sorts of places when the real bread of God’s word and loving sacramental presence is freely on offer. This is the true bread ‘come down from heaven’ and it is also freely available to those who seek and come to be nourished in the Sacrament.   Nobody can take this gift from us.

Walking on water

St Kizito being baptised by St Charles Source: wikimedia (Munyonyo Martyrs Shrine)

 
Today is a significant day in Uganda, when Christians remember the sacrifice of many who gave their lives for the faith in the 1880s, including Saint Charles Lwanga and his companions.

The Uganda Martyrs were 45 young Christian converts – both Roman Catholics and Anglicans – who were killed between 1885 and 1887 on the orders of Kabaka Mwanga II when they refused to compromise their faith.  Their witness became, as the Church has often said of martyrs, the seed of future conversions to the Gospel and the spread of Christianity in Uganda.

A hunger for truth, beauty and goodness

One of the most striking aspects of participating in the Eucharist – especially as one travels further east and south from Northern Europe – is the prominent role of music, chanting and art in the divine liturgy. A recent spell in Croatia has brought this home to me once again. As we move towards the liturgical solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ (Corpus Christi) this coming weekend, it is worth reflecting on the importance of the sixth chapter of the Gospel of St John. We will hear an extract from this chapter (John 6:51–58) proclaimed next Sunday.

Food for body and soul

In a previous blog, A second-century ceebration of the Mass, I considered the writings and witness of a very early Christian martyr, St Justin Martyr (c. AD 100–165) whose feast day we celebrate today.  St Justin gives one of the earliest and clearest accounts of the Eucharist in which we receive not common bread and drink but the actual flesh and blood of Jesus. This transformation occurs in the Eucharist in the prayer of thanksgiving.  It is a gift to all baptised Christians who stand in unity with the core beliefs and teachings of the Christian community.  His descriptions place the Eucharist at the centre of the week on the Day of Resurrection. 

A Sunday without the Eucharist, in my view, makes no sense;  none.