RVC’s
Weekly Spiritual Essay
May
29, 2005: BODY AND BLOOD OF JESUS
Readings
Deuteronomy
8:2-3, 14b-16a
I
Corinthians 10:16-17
John
6:51-58
Trained
in catechism theology, many Catholics are confused when they encounter biblical
theologies. The people who
produced our catechisms think differently from the individuals who gave us our
Scriptures. It isn’t that they
think about different things, or have different experiences. When they’re thinking, something
distinct is going on in their minds.
We, and
the catechism authors, were taught to “think Greek.” Though we might be German, Irish or African-American, we
still think like the classic Greek philosophers taught their disciples to
think. We analyze. We mentally tear apart what we’re
thinking about; separating, for instance, an object’s color from its weight, its
smell from its shape. We zero in
on just one aspect of the object, relegating all the rest to our mental
background. Then when this part is
sufficiently analyzed, we tear another part of the object from its setting and
begin to think about it.
Such a
thought process is essential for those who think in terms of either/or. Something is either white or black,
round or square. Not only is there
no room for contradiction in such a process, the process itself is geared to
getting rid of any contradiction we might find in the object. Fr. Raymond Dunst, one of my seminary
philosophy profs, once remarked, “We are where we are in the Western World
because of our ability to think Greek.”
The
problem that arises when Greek thinking people read Scripture is that our
sacred authors thought as “Semites.”
They didn’t analyze, they synthesized. Instead of mentally tearing objects apart, they pulled them
together, trying to get as much of something in their brain as they possibly
could at one time, even dimensions which appear to be contradictory. Instead of eradicating contradictions,
Semitic teachers reward students who can surface multiple contradictions in an
object or concept. Greek thinkers
abhor mysteries; Semitic thinkers help to create them.
That’s
why we’re offered two differing theologies of the Eucharist in today’s
readings.
We’re
probably more familiar with the theology John provides. He sets the theme in Jesus’ opening
words. “I am the living bread that
came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread
that I shall give is my flesh for the life of the world.”
Making a
comparison with the Deuteronomy narrative which comprises our first reading,
John informs his readers that no matter how good and helpful the Yahweh-given
manna was for the Israelites during their 40 year wanderings in the wilderness,
the bread which Jesus offers us can top it. “This is the bread that came down from heaven,” Jesus points
out. “Un like your ancestors who
ate and still died, whoever eats this bread will live forever.”
Thinking
semitically, Paul brings up a different aspect of the Eucharist in our I
Corinthians pericope. Ignoring
John’s feeding dimension, the Apostle zeros in on the unity aspect. In this earliest biblical reference to
the Eucharist, he reminds his community that participating in the Lord’s Supper
makes us one both with the risen Jesus in our midst and with one another,
forming us into the body of Christ.
“The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a participation in the
blood of Christ? The bread that we
break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? Because the loaf of bread is one, we,
though many, are one body, for we all partake of one loaf.”
If your
parish employs individuals, separate “hosts” instead of one large loaf of bread
for this weekend’s Eucharist, you can be fairly certain someone’s been
analyzing the Eucharist more than synthesizing it.