To receive Jesus is to become like Jesus

In our Gospel reading today, Jesus proposes, “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day”  (Jn. 6:54).  His disciples grumble among themselves, “How can this man offer his flesh for us to eat?”  Because his claims were too hard to swallow many of disciples henceforth disassociate themselves from him.  Forlorn and disappointed, Jesus asks his twelve disciples, “Do you also want to leave?”  Peter replies, “You have the words of eternal life.”

We need to unpack Jesus’ incredible claim that whoever partakes of his body and blood will have eternal life.  What did he not mean?   First, Jesus was not referring to his earthly body and blood.  At the Eucharist, we partake not of earthly flesh or human blood, but of the mystical, risen body of our Lord.

Second, frequent or even daily reception of the Eucharist will not spare us from illness, pain and eventual death.  Regular reception of the Eucharist does not automatically lead to healing from diseases.

What therefore might Jesus mean?  First, to receive Jesus’ body is to believe in him and abide by his teachings.

A former student of mine used to be a member of the underground revolutionary movement.  She spent her years, her passion and energy serving the poor and oppressed.  Her intellectual anchor and moral compass — Marxism.  But as she grew older, many aspects of her ideology no longer made sense to her.  A deep interior emptiness gnawed at her.  Now, three decades later, she has abandoned Marxism but remains committed to helping the poor.  She has come to reject violent revolution as the means to social transformation, yet continues to defend human rights victims.  She has refound her way back to the Catholic Church.  Jesus once again has become her source of identity and meaning.

Second, to receive Jesus’ body is to allow oneself to be transformed by grace.   A few years ago, I anointed an elderly man battling terminal cancer.  Earlier on, his niece asked him if he wanted a priest to come over to hear his confession and anoint him.  He said he had no need for God and the Church.  He was a hardworking man, who was hard on others and himself, respected but feared.   He relied on his intellect and discipline to achieve his goals.  And yes, in his seventies, he had amassed much.

A few weeks before he died, he called for a priest.  His niece brought me to him.  He shared that being terminally sick had become a blessing of infinite value because he had rediscovered God.  I asked him how this happened.  He shared that upon waking up in the middle of the night, he found asleep on the cold floor of his hospital room his only son toward whom he had been demanding and emotionally distant.  He was deeply moved.  “How can my son still love me so much?” he thought to himself.  Then he recounted how his wife would assist him to the bathroom and clean him up.  Despite having been hard on her, “How could she remain ever faithful to me?” he asked.  It was through the stubborn love of his family for him that he rediscovered God’s faithful love and tenderness despite his many years of ignoring the Lord.  He was transformed by grace.

Third, to receive Jesus’s body and blood is to be empowered.  To receive the body and blood of Jesus is to be integrated into his Mystical Body.  As Paul declares, “It is no longer I who live, but Jesus who lives in me” (Gal.2:20).  To receive Jesus is to become more and more like him.  To receive Jesus is to become his presence in the world.

I remember Catalina “Gayyum” Accatan, a parishioner in Kiangan, Ifugao, where I was assigned as a newly-ordained priest.  Advanced in years yet full of energy, feisty yet tempered by compassion, Gayyum took into her home unwanted babies and troubles relatives.  Her home became an orphanage and refuge for the abandoned.

My parishioners told me the story that before my time, the most remote barrio in our parish, Camandag, was overtaken by the NPA.  The people fled to the Poblacion.  Since no one wanted to accompany her to dialogue with the NPAs, she trekked the great distance by herself.  Upon reaching Camandag, like a grandmother scolding her apos, she berated the NPAs, “We are a peace-loving people.  Take our chickens and leave us alone.”  The NPAs left Camandag.  Triumphantly, she marched to the Poblacio, declaring that the people could now return to their homes.

Gayyum went to Mass daily and after Mass would report to me all the problems of our town and all that had to be done.  She was my daily tabloid.  At the end of her lfie, she suffered much due to lung cancer.  Despite having been a daily communicant, Jesus did not spare her from suffering and eventual death.  But grace transformed her into an alter Christus, another Christ; she became the presence of Christ to others, myself included.  And grace has made her a sharer in God’s eternity.