Man hu? What is it?
Year A – Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ
John 6:51-58: “I am the living bread which came down from heaven”
Sixty days after Easter, on the Thursday following the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity, the Church celebrates the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ — according to the Missal of Paul VI — also known as the feast of Corpus Christi, according to traditional usage. It is one of the three most solemn Thursdays of the liturgical year: Maundy Thursday, Ascension Thursday and Corpus Christi Thursday. For pastoral reasons, in many countries this solemnity is transferred to the Sunday following the Most Holy Trinity. Although Eastertide has already come to an end, this chronological reference establishes a profound link between the feast of Corpus Christi, Easter and the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity.
The origins of this feast date back to the thirteenth century. Born within the context of the Eucharistic devotion that developed in Belgium, particularly through the inspiration of Saint Juliana of Cornillon, it was extended to the whole Church by Pope Urban IV in 1264. The Eucharistic miracle of Bolsena, which took place the previous year, was also of great significance in this process. Through these signs, the Lord wished to strengthen the Church’s faith in his real presence in the sacrament of the Holy Eucharist, precisely at a time when some were calling it into question.
Eucharistic miracles are numerous, many of them documented over the centuries. Saint Carlo Acutis, a teenager who died at the age of 15 (1991-2006), was an enthusiastic promoter of them. A great lover of the Eucharist, he called it “the motorway to heaven”.
1. “Remember… Do not forget!”
The first word that resounds in our ears in today’s readings is: Remember. “Remember all the way which the Lord your God has led you these forty years in the wilderness” (Dt 8:2). It is a most timely and urgent invitation for us, women and men of a generation often inclined to forget the past, alienated in the present, uprooted from history and, consequently, little attentive to a future that does not offer an immediate return.
This cultural tendency also risks undermining Christian identity. Nelson Mandela said: “Memory is the fabric of identity.” A Christian, and a Christian community, that do not cultivate the memory of God and of his works risk losing their own identity. If the people of Israel did not keep alive the memory of the liberating God, they would be tempted to return to “Egypt” and fall back into a new slavery. That is why Moses, in Deuteronomy, insists so strongly on the pair listening/remembering (cf. Dt 6:4-10,12; 8:2,14,18).
The Eucharist is our memorial par excellence: “Do this in memory of me. For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes” (cf. 1 Cor 11:23-26). Of a community that celebrates the Eucharist without memory warming the heart, one must ask whether it has not “abandoned its first love” (Rev 2:4). Trapped in the present, the impulse towards awaiting the Lord who comes is then lost. The invocation of the Spirit and the bride — “Come!” — no longer rises to our lips (Rev 22:17). Hope grows faint and the meaning of Christian life is lost.
2. One bread, one body
The second reading underlines the profound link between the Eucharist, the Church and the community: “Because there is one bread, we, though many, are one body” (1 Cor 10:16-17). The communal dimension of the Eucharist was particularly emphasised after the Second Vatican Council: “No Christian community can be built up unless it has […] as its root and centre the celebration of the Most Holy Eucharist” (Presbyterorum Ordinis, 6).
I do not know to what extent this awareness has been assimilated by our liturgical assemblies, if we look even only at the physical dispersion of the faithful in our churches. At times one has the impression that the Eucharist is still, for some of us, an “individual affair”, a kind of spiritual “consumer good”.
Since 13 October 2020, because of illness, I have not been able to receive communion directly in the Body and Blood of Christ. Celebrating Holy Mass every day with my confrères has led me to reflect more deeply on the communal dimension of the Eucharist: one Bread and one Body. This Body is the Church, it is the community. Christ gives himself to the whole Body. My confrères are the body to which I belong and which, also on my behalf, receives the Body of Christ. This applies to me as it does to all Christians who celebrate the Eucharist.
3. Manna, man hu? What is it?
The manna that nourished the people of Israel in the wilderness is a figure of the Eucharist, the Bread essential for our survival. Traditionally it is held that the term manna comes from the question man hu?, that is: “What is it?”, which the Israelites asked themselves, full of wonder, when they saw it come down from heaven.
Well then, Jesus tells us today: “This is the bread that came down from heaven” (Jn 6:58). He is the true manna. The Jews who listened to him were scandalised. We are not — perhaps, unfortunately! We take all this for granted. But how seriously do we take it?
The eyes of the body see a small and fragile piece of bread. But the eyes of the heart, the eyes of faith, what do they see? This is truly something we must ask ourselves. We cannot underestimate the influence of a secularised mentality, often allergic to the dimension of mystery, nor that of a reductive view of the Eucharist, which risks obscuring its real presence.
May the Lord open our eyes, as he did with the two disciples of Emmaus, so that we may recognise him in the breaking of the Bread.
Spiritual exercise for the week
- Before receiving communion, look with awe and wonder at the Bread placed in your hand and ask yourself: Man hu? What is it? And the Lord will answer you: It is my Body!
- Meditate on these provocative questions of Pope Francis:
“If we look around us, we realise that there are many offers of food that do not come from the Lord and that apparently satisfy us more… Each one of us, today, can ask: and me? Where do I want to eat? At which table do I want to nourish myself? At the Lord’s table? Or do I dream of eating tasty foods, but in slavery? Furthermore, each one of us can ask: what is my memory? That of the Lord who saves me or that of the garlic and onions of slavery? With which memory do I satisfy my soul?” (19 June 2014).
Fr Manuel João Pereira Correia, MCCJ
Fr. Manuel João, comboni missionary
Sunday Reflection
from the womb of my whale, ALS
Our cross is the pulpit of the Word
