
John 6: 60-69
We sat down on the floor mats in the soft play tent. It was a big ecumenical Christian music festival and every other Christian denomination was in a collective worship marquee in the big field. I’ve never felt the division so starkly as that Sunday morning as we gathered for Mass. There were a good few people who had come to join us out of a real desire for unity and I wanted to hug them hard. As the moment came to receive communion one of the Franciscan friars stood and spoke about how this should go with a mixed gathering.
“The body of Christ is broken” he said “which means that right now we aren’t sharing a table, to ignore this would appear to be an easy solution, but it isn’t truth, there will, I know and trust come a time when we will all feast at the same banquet, but until then ….” His voice trailed off and the pain in his voice broke this tiny part of Christ’s body as I tried to hide annoyingly persistent tears at the utter sadness of how wounded and broken it was.
Jesus watches in today’s Gospel as his followers get divided, and then divided again, while we dwell on the “become one like us” aspects of His preaching, we can miss that never is it at the price of compromise. In each revelation we are forced to choose. Is He God or just a good teacher? If He is God, is He also human ? Is this one God or three? Did He really rise from the dead? Will He really come back and importantly when? Does He accept the sinner as is or offer or require some sense of reform?
….and as we read this Gospel today is He really present in that Bread and Wine?
I’ve made my choice here, I’ve seen the Eucharist become flames in the hands of a priest during the elevation, I’ve seen miraculous transformations happen after moments spent before Him. I’ve read the stories, modern stories of the scientific tests performed on Hosts that have become heart tissue. I’ve also read the stories of wars won and lives led down for this truth. At some point it had to be enough for me to say, yes. Yes Lord, I believe. It became irrelevant if it seemed mad or unbelievable or inconvenient (and it really was all of these) because I was given the grace to know it was a divine answer to my doubt and questioning.
So I stay because I know.
Even when I doubt I know
Even when I act like I don’t I know
So I stay where the structure of His body is flawed, where some of those in power are questionable in their fidelity, where scandals run a mock. I stay where it seems the body is so much more badly broken than in other places because I know. I know that there are many other places I could go but only this place has the physical presence of the Holy One of God…. Broken for me, so where else, Jesus, could I go.? You have the message of eternal life.