Frackville

In the 1st reading we meet Joshua, one of Israel’s outstanding military commanders. In victories he established his people in the promised land of Canaan. By now he is old and knows that his end is near. He calls the people together at Shehem in the heart of their new homeland and delivers a moving speech. He says nothing of his victories, but only tells the people of critical choice that they have to make: Joshua calls them to “choose today whom you wish to serve;” is it to be the Lord who brought them out of slavery in Egypt or the pagan Canaanite gods? Joshua says that he and his family are setting an example: “As for me and my House, we will serve the Lord.” The people reply: “We too will serve the Lord, for He is our God.” They choose God, they choose life.

The Gospel centers on a choice. Last week He spoke plainly about the Eucharist. It is all too much for some hearers. Jesus agrees: it isn’t easy to accept such a claim. But He doesn’t go back on what He’s said, not even when – and this is one of the saddest sentences in the Gospels – “many of His disciples left Him.” He takes back nothing. He goes further; He turns to the 12 and asks, “What about you, do you want to go away too?” Peter has a wonderful response: “Lord, who shall we go to? You have message of eternal life, and we believe.” They trust Him: they choose God; they choose eternal life.

There is a sense in which that Gospel story becomes a reality at Mass. THE BODY of CHRIST. All we see is a wafer of bread; that’s what it will taste and feel like. As we look at the host, we say AMEN. A tiny word, and full of meaning. It comes from a Hebrew root that suggests solidity and strength. We believe this is the body of Christ: the same Christ who once walked the roads of Palestine; the Christ who healed the sick and comforted rejected. The Eucharist is above all the sacrament of faith, and faith is more than simply saying, “I believe” it is total commitment to Jesus. Our AMEN is like Peter’s declaration: “Lord, who shall we go to? You have the message of eternal life.” We are making a decisive choice…

In today’s Gospel, Jesus describes himself as the “living bread.” After He was gone, they would still have God’s word, and they would have His “living bread” for nourishment. As Catholics, we believe that when we receive the Eucharist we receive the body of Christ. The monk and writer Thomas Merton suggested that “while we eat the substance of the true body of Christ under the sacramental species, we ourselves are eaten and absorbed by the mystical body of Christ…we become as it were perfectly part of that body, assimilated by it, one with its spiritual organism.” By loving one another we are incorporated into the body of Christ and enlightened by Christ. We are to bring life to the world, as He did. Courage, gifts and blessings come to us when we remain close to Jesus and deepen our relationship through the Eucharist.

Bread is a staple of our lives, just as Jesus is central part to our lives. Today’s Gospel focuses on what nourishes and sustains us. Today we get the sign in the breaking of bread that the spirit of Jesus is with us always when we are dedicated to the teachings of Christ and to building life-affirming relationships. The celebration of life has everything to so with food. Food is at the centre of human community-making. The challenge is there for us today. Each of us is called to follow Jesus and we will be filled with food that is far more than daily nourishment.

The first reading from Amos and the Gospel passage from St. Mark have an important message for us, the Christian community today. In Amos we are presented with the prophet being lambasted by a crowd and told that he is never to speak in the way he has been doing. Poor Amos, we may think. However, he does not need our pity; he is a man who utterly believes that what he says and does is just what he was told to say and do by the Lord. In the Gospel we witness how the disciples are given the power to anoint sick people and drive out demons from those who find themselves possessed. This power has come from Jesus and has been gifted to the apostles. These are people who can now minister as they have seen the Lord minister.

It can often seem today that there is a rising intolerance towards Christianity and its message. In our society we are unlikely to meet the kind of persecution that is faced by people of faith in some other countries of the world. We are people who have been given a call, a vocation by the Lord. We know our identity as sons and daughters of God. We have been chosen and made holy bur our God. The more we recognize these truths, the more we should not care what the “crowd” thinks about us. Being Christians today, as it always has been, is about being people of love, people of truth, people of justice, people of integrity, people of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Let us never give up living the life that we have been called to live.

Jesus encountered opposition and unpopularity in His own country. We see in today’s Gospel that the people in His home town of Nazareth would not accept Him, and that their lack of faith prevented Him from performing any great miracle there. He remarked, “A prophet is only despised in his own country, among his own relations and in his own house.” People of His home town were so enraged with Him and His teaching that they tried to throw Him over a cliff, but He faced them down and escaped. On the other hand, Jesus sometimes found great faith among people who were not of His own country or race or religion, such as the Samaritan leper whom He cured, or the Roman centurion of whom He said, “I tell you solemnly, nowhere in Israel have I found faith like this”; or again, the Canaanite woman whose daughter healed, telling her, “Woman, you have great faith.”

We might do well to keep some examples in mind in our attempts to proclaim the Gospel today. Many of us are glad to support the missions in faraway countries, but closer to home, if we attempt to spread the Gospel outside the doors of our churches at all, we tend to address our message to what we might call the fringes of our own church community: those who come to Mass at Christmas and Easter, those who send their children to our schools, those who have fallen away from the regular practice of the faith.