Chapter 6 in John’s gospel begins with the feeding of the crowd at Passover. It is followed by two discourses on “the bread of life.” The symbols in John are multi-layered and rich in meaning. In the first discourse (6:35-50) the “bread” is about the revelation of Jesus.
Remember how the Samaritan woman (4:4ff) understood Jesus’ offer of “living water” in a literal and physical way? (Water is another symbol in John which reveals the truth about Jesus’ identity.) In the first “bread discourse” the crowds, like the Samaritan woman, took Jesus literally. Since he multiplied bread they ask him, “Sir, give us this bread always” (6:34) — similar to what the woman asked when Jesus promised her living water (4:15).
Jesus then announces that he is the bread of life and will provide food and drink that will never fade or disappoint. He was awakening their memories because in their tradition Wisdom is presented as providing nourishment and direction for those in need (Is 49:10). Jesus presents himself as a sure provider of life who can give even more than what Wisdom and the Law can provide. He is not talking about physical bread for physical life instead he advises, “Do not work for food that perishes but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you” (6:27). Jesus is God’s offer of eternal life, “I am the bread of life, whoever comes to me will never hunger and whoever believes in me will never thirst” (6:35).
The discourse, with its theme of bread, continues. Today’s section, called the “second discourse,” has a sacramental focus. Jesus speaks quite starkly to his Jewish hearers about eating his flesh and drinking his blood. His listeners object because drinking blood would have been repugnant and forbidden for a Jewish person (Lv. 17:10-14). The same for eating his flesh. Jesus will give himself over to his persecutors. His body will be broken and his blood poured out on the cross. For John’s Christian readers the eucharistic message would be clear. Our true, our eternal life, is nourished when we are fed the eucharistic meal.
Gustavo Gutierrez, OP (“Sharing the Word Through the Liturgical Year”) says that John addressed this passage to people who were skeptical about the incarnation — God taking on human flesh. Hence, “the message leaves no room for doubt: the gift of God becomes concrete through what is human” (page 121). The Lord has given his flesh by surrendering himself for us. Jesus’ gift of bread is the gift of his life for us. Hence, when we eat and drink we are united to him and through him to his Father: we have life through the bread Jesus offers us.
In Hebrew “flesh and blood” signifies the entire person. To eat and drink suggests a communion with another. So, in the eucharistic meal, eating and drinking means a sharing in the person of Jesus and the life he offers us with himself and the Father. He tells us that he is the source of life for those who “feed” on him.
The first part of the bread discourse stressed faith. The second part (today’s gospel) keeps our feet rooted on the ground. The language is very concrete, it is about eating and drinking. Communion with Christ is not other-worldly, or on some “higher spiritual plane.” We share in the life of Christ by eating and drinking. This is the language of receptivity — accepting what we are offered. To accept Christ by eating his flesh and drinking his blood, is to embrace the life Christ offers us as a gift. Communion happens for us today at this celebration. But the sacrament also opens our eyes so we can see how else Christ feeds us himself in our daily lives.
We can ask ourselves: Where else, in ways as concrete as bread and wine, is Christ offering himself to us this day? I remember standing at the cell of a death row inmate. We talked about matters of life and death for quite a while, well past my lunch break. As we talked my eyes drifted over to a large cookie on a shelf in his cell, which he had received with his lunch. He caught me looking at the cookie and said, “Are you hungry, father?” I was — in many ways. He took the cookie, broke it in half and shared it with me. I had presided at Mass earlier in the day. How could I miss another version of what I had shared earlier with my Dominican sisters, brothers and friends? It was about “taking,” “breaking,” and “giving” — this time happening on death row. Do those of us who will come to eat and drink the body and blood of Christ at this celebration today not see the many other concrete ways he gives himself to us throughout our day?
The food we receive today, the presence of Jesus in the Eucharist, sustains us in our daily lives. We, like our Jewish ancestors, wander through the desert. Sometimes the journey has been arduous. Yet, Moses instructs us today, “Remember.” So, we recall how we were fed day by day. The word “manna” means “what is it?” Imagine the Israelites coming out of their tents each morning to find a white, sticky substance on the rocks and bushes. They collected it, held it up and asked, “Manna — what is it?” Moses told them, never mind eat it and it will nourish you. They did and, just as he promised, they were nourished for one more day.
And so it went, day by day, they were fed a bread they did not recognize as food, (“unknown to you and your ancestors”), but were nourished nevertheless. We hear Moses speak to us as well. “Remember” he tells us. We do — as we recall how the bread of life has fed us day by day, often in ways we did not recognize at first. (Like a the gift of a shared cookie from a death row inmate.) But now we do and, at this community meal, we remember and give thanks.