I Am The Bread Of Life

 

"I am the bread of life," says Christ in the sixth chapter of John's Gospel. It's a remarkable statement. Jesus claims that he is the spiritual food which came down from heaven, sent by his Father. That he is true manna, "not such as your fathers ate and died, he who eats this bread will live forever." 

He, Jesus, is the very food which endures for everlasting life, the fulfillment and embodiment of the Law represented by the 5 loaves of the miracle performed the day before. 

He is the glory of God which passed by Moses, who was hidden by God in a cleft in the rock, and spoke through the unquenchable fire of the burning bush. He is now unveiled, present, incarnate, "and we beheld His glory, a glory as of an only begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth." Glory that's given to us in sacrifice for our atonement on the Cross, "the bread which I shall give for the life of the world is my flesh."

Bread which we receive by faith, “This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent.” And that's just it. Do we dare to believe, to put our humble, perhaps desperate and fearful faith in the Son of Man who came down from heaven that we might live. To put it another way. Do we labor for earthly food, for bread and power, or for the heavenly food which is the life of God himself? 

Christ faced this temptation in the wilderness and answered Satan, "Man shall not live by bread alone but by every word which proceeds from the mouth of God." He said no to "all the kingdoms of the world and the glories therein," and went to the Cross, which became his throne. He invites us to do the same, "take up your cross," so that we, in him, will have life, divine life.

Of course you might want to choose bread and power instead, thus cunningly marking yourself with the number of the beast. Your call, good luck. But remember, it's all a Big Pharma congressional larf until you wake up and a demon's gnawing on your inner thigh.

God bless,

LSP

A Sunday Sermon

 

The Feeding of the Five Thousand. What's it all about? That Christ will feed his people. With what? With the Word of God, as Jesus tells us in his temptation in the wilderness "If you are the Son of God, turn these stones into bread," says Satan, and the Lord replies, "Man shall not live on bread alone but by every word which proceeds from the mouth of God."

Yes indeed, the Word of God is the food of the people of God. In Old Testament  times the Divine Word was given through the Law and the Prophets, which is signified in the elements of the miracle. 

Five loaves for the five books of the Law, the Mosaic Pentateuch. And note, the loaves are made of prophetic barley; the greatest prophet, Elisha, multiplied 20 barley loaves to feed one hundred men. So the loaves stand for the nourishment of the Word of God delivered by Law and Prophecy.

This will feed the great multitude of God's people, represented by the fish in the Gospel. Our minds go instantly to the fifth day of creation in Genesis, where God blesses the birds and the fish, "be fruitful and multiply." And to Abraham, "Your descendants shall be as many as the stars of heaven," and in Christ's words, "I will make you fishers of men."

But the fish are also food, the people of God fed by the Word of God, which is, quite literally, Christ himself. He who is the Word, the Logos, will sustain and nourish his people with himself. He says as much a little later in John's Gospel. 

"I am the bread of life," again, "Unless you eat of the flesh of the son of man and drink his blood, you have no life within you." And more, "Whoever eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day..."

Let's cut to the chase. Where do we find this supernatural nourishment, this bread from heaven? In the Word, obviously. In what he said, as recorded in Scripture and the Apostolic teaching of the Church, which is Christ's teaching; in prayer and in every good thing, but most specifically? 

In the Sacrament of the Altar, in the Mass. This is my Body... this is my Blood. Flesh and Blood, loaves and fish, which we must eat to have eternal life, the divinizing life of God himself. And there you have it, manna from heaven.

Rejoice, laetare, at the saving glory of this, disregard it at your peril. Here endeth the short sermon.

In Nom.,

LSP

The Road To Emmaus

If you haven't been too busy reading the excellent Malochio of Bodie, you may have noticed that today's Gospel was the Road to Emmaus. Here we find the risen Christ progressively revealing Himself to Cleopas and his companion as they walk away from the heavenly city, Jerusalem. 

He does so through Word and Sacrament. But note this, the turning point in the Gospel and the disciples' journey of recognition occurs when they near their destination and constrain Jesus to stay with them and eat. Then, in the confection of the Eucharist, the scales fall from the the disciples' eyes and they see Christ for who He is; the Word who has expounded the word becomes Flesh.

So with us. If we're to recognize the risen Lord we have to open our hearts to Him in faith and then the guest becomes the host, serving us the word of of truth and salvation and the bread of everlasting life.

To be fair, I didn't do this remarkably powerful Gospel justice but the people seemed to like the message.

"Good sermon, padre," said one cowboy as we sat in his ranch office after Mass. "Thanks, chief, I appreciate it," I replied, looking at an old saddle that was stood up next to a holstered 30-30. "That's a relay saddle," explained my friend, whose father had ridden the rails from Montana to Texas in the '30s to cowboy. Then, as we left the HQ, he pointed out another saddle with hooded stirrups, or Tapederos. 

I picked up handful of scarred leather, "The guy I ride with out of Aquilla uses these."

"Makes sense when you're moving through mesquite and brush."

"Right, like chaps," I observed, thoughtfully, "Not to be confused with the kind of chaps you might find in, say, Oak Lawn, Dallas."

My colleague, who's forgotten more horsemanship than I'll ever know, snorted, "Ain't that the truth," and we climbed into the Gator and got back on the road.

I file this edifying tale under God, Guns, Church and Country Life in Texas. And you know what, there's nothing wrong with that, at all.

Ride on,

LSP

Mighty Ballistics Hi-Power

A few months ago a kind churchperson gave me his old Crossman 1389 Backpacker pump action air pistol. Handy bit of kit, I thought, as I loaded a .177 pellet into the chamber, pumped away and squeezed the trigger while aiming at a pecan tree. Disaster, the pellet didn't fire, neither did the next one, or the one after that, so I put the pistol away.

Until today and a new tin of pellets. Guess what, the pistol performed flawlessly, shooting through an old plastic milk container with unerring power and accuracy.

Handy addition to the backyard range.

In other news, I preached on the miracle of the feeding of the 5000, focusing on the symbolism of the loaves. 5 loaves for the Pentateuch, showing that Jesus is the fulfillment of the Law; and as Elisha multiplied 20 loaves to feed 100, Christ does the same but by orders of magnitude greater. He is the fulfillment of Prophecy. It stands to reason, then, that he multiplies two fish, expressing his twofold nature and the people who will benefit from the heavenly nourishment that he offers. Both Jews and Gentiles fall within the grace of the New Covenant, grace that is nothing less than Our Lord himself.

Where do we find this? In the Eucharist, as typified by the miracle.

I went on like that in several 10th Seconds of Forever, at the end of which my MC, who has forgotten more about riding than I will ever know, said, "That wasn't very good." 

Rebuked!

LSP