The Sánchez Archives THE BODY AND BLOOD OF CHRIST Year C

By
Patricia Datchuck Sánchez

A People in Procession

GENESIS 14:18-20
1 CORINTHIANS 11:23-26
LUKE 9:11-17

Among the countless blessings that have enriched my life are the years I spent teaching Scripture at a College in East Africa. Among my most poignant memories of those years are the celebratory processions in honor of the Body and Blood of Christ. For days in advance of the feast, members of the local congregations gathered brilliantly colored flowers. The fuchsias, reds, whites and violets of the bougainvillea, the yellows and golds of the frangipani, along with an array of colored sands, palm branches, aromatic herbs and green leaves were artfully arranged in eucharistic designs and arranged on the dirt footpath over which the procession would travel. Chalices and crosses, baskets of bread, grapes and wheat sheaves bore silent but fragrant and colorful witness to the faith of the people.

Bordering the pathway on both sides were young, verdant matoke plants, about eight feet in height. Steamed matoke or plantains are the main staple diet in many regions of East Africa. These had been cut down and posted along the procession route in honor of the one who had given himself to become the staff of life for the world.

On the day of the feast, the entire congregation assembled, dressed in their best clothes; with one voice they sang their gratitude and praise while a band of drummers offered loud and lively accompaniment. Across the hills, each congregation could hear the echoes of its neighbors, similarly engaged in prayerful procession.

In his commentary on today’s feast, Karl Rahner (The Great Church Year, Crossroad Publishing Co., New York: 1994) suggested that the procession is both the most external element associated with Corpus Christi as well as its most distinguishing factor. When what can be externally observed springs from within, as it does here, then the external is also the revelation of what lies within. That is why it is possible to enter into the mystery of this feast via the medium of the procession.

Begun in the latter part of the thirteenth century C.E., the Corpus Christi procession had already become a universal custom by the beginning of the fifteenth century C.E. The people who marched in these processions did so with the conviction that they were carrying the most Holy One into every aspect of their lives. It is one thing to receive and be nurtured by the Eucharist; it is yet another thing to carry that sacred eucharistic experience with us into the secular world, so much in need of sanctification. Spawned by the same faith and aspiring to the same goal, the diversity of peoples knew that in the procession the various spheres and activities of their lives were intertwined in one mobile, audible, colorful prayer of praise. Thus, the procession became an outward, visible expression of the individual and communal movement of humankind toward Jesus Christ, who is himself the impetus for the procession and the one who will lead it to its final destination, viz., God.

Although the procession reminds us that we are a people en route, a pilgrim people, always on the way, it is not merely a robotic flow of automatons from part A to point B. All along the lifelong route of the human procession, there will be changes, adjustments, pitfalls and detours. To remain a part of the procession which is life, continual growth, conversion and transformation are necessary. Obviously, the procession of which we speak is not comprised of a witless throng of people thrown together on the same highway, hurrying en mass through time and space to some unknown destination. As Rahner said, “A procession is a holy movement of a people truly united.” It is a gentle, steady stream of human hands and hearts toward the God whose involvement with humanity could also be described as a procession. To initiate the procession of salvation, God sent Jesus who came to travel among us for a time. On his return trip to God, Jesus struck a path and secured a safe passage for all who would come to believe in him. As food for the procession home, he left us the Eucharist; as our companion and guide along the way, he bequeathed to us the Spirit.

Today’s celebratory procession is but another leg on our journey; since none of us can be sure of our E.T.A. (Estimated Time of Arrival), let us live well, love well, and travel with earnest faith and persevering hope.

GENESIS 14:18-20

Although he is featured rarely in the Scriptures (this text, Psalm 110:4; Hebrews 5:6, 10; 6:20-7:22), Melchizedek has been frequently memorialized throughout many centuries of Christian art. Represented as both an historical and as a symbolic or typological figure, images of Melchizedek continue to grace the mosaics of St. Mary Major in Rome and in Saint Vitale in Ravennas as well as the frescoes in the Vatican and the altarpiece in the monastery of Klosterneuberg. Historically, Melchizedek, the king-priest of Salem (Jerusalem), whose name means “my king is justice,” is usually portrayed as blessing Abram after his return from battle with the kings who had kidnapped his brother, Lot. Symbolically and because of the Genesis author’s observation that he “brought out bread and wine” (v. 10), Melchizedek’s action was understood as a prefigurement of the Eucharist. For that reason, artists have portrayed him, dressed in priestly robes, with a miter and a crown, offering up wine and bread to God, even at times in the form of the eucharistic host. Bruce Vawter (The Dictionary of the Bible and Religion, Abingdon Press, Nashville: 1986) has suggested that the purpose of today’s narrative was to bring into close conjunction one of Israel’s most important patriarchal ancestors (Abram) with Jerusalem, the city of David, its monarchy and its priesthood.

Recall the fact that one of the most difficult issues the nascent monarchy had to address was the unification of the loosely knit and tribal amphictyomy. Fiercely independent and autonomous, the tribes often conducted themselves as competitive rivals rather than cooperative partners. When David acceded to the throne, he did what Saul had been unable to do; he summoned the tribes of the north and those of the south, all of whom pledged their allegiance to him, to God and to the one covenant which united them all. To secure his position, David moved the ark to the ancient Jebusite city of Jerusalem and made it his capital. The belief that Melchizedek has been the king-priest of the ancient Jebusite city, Salem (Jerusalem), served to legitimize David chosen capital. Many scholars also regard this passage as an effort to lend support to the priesthood of Zadok which David initiated. Chosen by David to preside over the Jerusalem shrine (2 Samuel 8:17), Zadok was probably a member of an ancient Jebusite dynasty; therefore, it could be said of him that he was a priest “according to the order of Melchizedek” (Psalm 110:1-4).

Because nothing was known of his origins, Melchizedek came to be regarded as an ideal, if not mythic priest-king. In the literature of Qumran, he is represented as a heavenly judge. The author of Hebrews featured Melchizedek as a supernatural figure whose miraculous origins and indestructible life foreshadowed the uniquely superior and eternal priesthood of Jesus Christ.

1 CORINTHIANS 11:23-26

Paul’s is the earliest (ca. 53-55 C.E.) written account of Jesus’ gift of himself to his own in the eucharistic bread and wine; his narrative also seems to suggest that Paul may have been one of Luke’s sources and that the two may even have worked and traveled together for the sake of the gospel. Readers familiar with the exploits of Paul in the Acts of the Apostles will recall that there are several so-called “we-passages” in which Luke shifted from the third person plural, “they”, to the first person plural, “we” (Acts 16:10-17; 20:5-16; 21:1-28:16). Such a shift would seem to indicate that he (Luke) was present with Paul during some of his missionary journeys. Moreover, the “we-passages” of Acts include a striking number of details which appear to have been observed and recounted by an eye-witness to the events. Further evidence of a possible connection between Paul and Luke can be found in today’s second reading; the Lucan account of the words of institution bear a remarkable resemblance to the words of institution in Paul’s account. Unlike Mark and Matthew, both Paul and Luke included the words, “which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” It would appear that Paul had “handed on” (v. 23: paradidomi) what he had received (v. 23: paralambano) and that Luke, following his mentor, did likewise.

Notice that Paul enjoined the same directive when speaking of the cup. In remembrance (anamnesis) of Jesus, his followers were to continue partaking of the bread of his body and the cup of the new covenant in his blood. As a remembrance or memorial, the eucharistic action is not simply the calling to mind of an event which occurred or a gift which was given almost two millennia ago. Rather, the rubric of remembrance which is the Eucharist makes present here and now, within the gathered assembly of believers, the reality of Jesus’ saving death and resurrection. As Roland Faley (Footprints on the Mountain), Paulist Press, New York: 1994) has explained, each eucharistic liturgy is a “living remembrance of Jesus’ act of love, which is both a recall and a salvific actualization of his death.” By their participation (eating and drinking) in the Eucharist, believers proclaim and are integrated into that death and are given a taste of the resurrected glory yet to come. Always multi-dimensional, each eucharistic memorial references the cross in which it is rooted but it also looks ahead to the future when present participation in the sacramental presence of Jesus will be replaced by a full and forever sharing in his eternal presence.

The fact that the followers of Jesus have been instructed to continue this act of remembrance “until he comes” underscores the importance of the Eucharist as food for the journey and the posture of the church as being in a continuing procession toward God.

LUKE 9:11-17

One of the fruits of the renewal begun by the second Vatican Council was the church’s affirmation of its solidarity with the whole human family. Addressing that world-wide family in December of 1965, the participants at the council declared: “The joy and hopes, the grief and anguish of the people of our time, especially those who are poor or afflicted in any way, are the joy and hope, the grief and anguish of the followers of Christ as well. Nothing that is genuinely human fails to find an echo in their hearts. For theirs is a community composed of believers who, united in Christ and guided by the Spirit, . . . are bearers of a message of salvation intended for all people.” In today’s gospel of the gift of the loaves, Jesus was instilling a similar sense of solidarity in the Twelve.

When his disciples approached him regarding the needs of the crowd and when their first reaction toward the multitude was to dismiss them so that they could see to their own needs, Jesus challenged them with the question, “Why do you not give them something to eat yourselves?” Their reply, “We have nothing but five loaves and two fishes. . .” was only partially true. Having been in Jesus’ company, they had been filled with the gifts of his teaching and sated with his indiscriminating and selfless love. They had far more to give than they admitted or even realized. Rather than set themselves apart from the crowds, Jesus encouraged his disciples to accept their solidarity with the poor, hungry, thirsty and weary ones of society as he did. From that sense of solidarity would grow the willingness to serve the needs of others as members of the same human family.

Recounted no less than six times within the four canonical gospels, the narrative of the loaves has also been interpreted and explained theologically, christologically and soteriologically. Theologically, the feeding of the crowds at sunset could be understood as a type or prefigurement of Jesus gift of the eucharistic bread that would spiritually nourish those who believed in him. Notice that each of the evangelists included eucharistic language (took, blessed, broke, gave) in their respective versions of this event, thus directing their readers’ attention to Jesus’ action at the last supper. Christologically, the taking, breaking and giving of the loaves anticipated the “taking” of Jesus in the garden, the “breaking” of his body during his passion and the “giving” of himself as a sacrifice for the sins of humankind. Soteriologically, the banquet of bread for the multitudes recalled the promises of a great messianic banquet (Isaiah 25:6; 65:13-14; Psalm 18:19; 81:16-17) and signaled that these promises were being fulfilled in Jesus.

As this gospel is proclaimed today, in the midst of believers who have processed here together in joyful celebration of God’s gifts, all of these interpretations and explanations continue to enlighten and guide. But Jesus’ challenging question, “Why do you not give something to eat yourselves?”, may prompt us to consider whether or not we are authentically concerned with those whose only experience of the procession is the bread line or welfare line. Does not our professed solidarity with the needy demand more generous sharing of the bread of our time, talent and treasure?

[NOTE TO USERS: This archive is available for use without charge, but it remains the property of the author and under copyright with Celebrations Publications. Users are permitted to print individual Sunday commentaries for pastoral use, but are prohibited from downloading or copying files or printing any portion of this for sale or distribution.]