All this can be messy, dramatic—and human, so very beautifully human.
When we no longer love the Eucharistic Christ, we are in spiritual trouble, according to John 6.
Throughout this chapter, once the miracle of the multiplication of barley loaves is worked and the water crossed, there is growing opposition from his listeners as Jesus introduces them to the truth that he and his teaching are our bread of life.
But suddenly, at verse 51c, the Lord takes an even more radical turn as he says that the bread he will give is his flesh for the life of the world.
What ensues is an awesome and terrible sketch of what is necessary for eternal life. The verses read as follows:
53: Jesus said to them, “Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you.
54: Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day.
55: For my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink.
56: Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him.
57: Just as the living Father sent me and I have life because of the Father, so the one who feeds on me will have life because of me.
58: This is the bread that came down from heaven. Unlike your ancestors who ate and still died, whoever eats this bread will live forever.”
The reaction of most of the crowd is that this saying, despite the great promises, is hard, so who can accept it? Only the apostles stay on, led by Peter: Where else can we go Lord? You have the words of eternal life (Jn 6:68). Where else can we ever find such a treasure as this? But as for understanding these mysterious words…
Thus, in all its mysteriousness, this great sacrament is meant to be received with faith and with deepest love. This becomes possible because of the graces of God at work through that sacrament.
The Holy Eucharist is Christ himself in sacramental form, in his very offering to the Father for our salvation.
In other words, I begin to perceive how true, how deep, how wonderful it is that the Lord laid down his life for me, for my salvation (for each of us and for all of us). Now I am moved to imitate him, to let him live more and more within me, that I may lay down my life in turn for others.
I become a Eucharist and a witness to my faith in it. This is the beginning of eternal life, to be infinitely expanded when we are with the Lord in heavenly glory.
What happens to us if this great gift is no longer loved for what it is? One example would be Canada in 2025. Having turned away in millions from the practice of the Faith, we find ourselves now in a very peculiar and dangerous moment in our history.
As our sense of eternal life and its meaning recedes into the past, we have only our moments on earth to live for. And if those moments, for whatever reason, do not seem worth living, we have the solution all wrapped up nicely in a little acrostic: MAID, that is, Medical Assistance In Dying. Or more simply put: euthanasia or assisted suicide.
MAID has been put in place as a solution to a very difficult question: How much suffering and pain should one endure as life nears its end? Under the guise of compassion and quality of life, we bid farewell to the gift of life itself, which at some point seems to many to be no gift at all.
What was once a thing of promise for the future and some contentment in the present is now filled with increasing difficulties, unending pain and eventual death. That which was once a circle of family and friends providing comfort and assurance that all is well, basically, has become a burden on friends and family alike.
Quick and perfunctory visits to the doctor, with friendly chatter mixed with paternal or maternal advice, now seems to be a continual assault on our overstretched and exhausted medical system.
And so we say, in effect, “Thanks for the memories, folks, but it’s time to end all this. It’s better for all of us that I bail out now.
“Let’s avoid a needless experience of suffering and misery and, as the Scriptures say, ‘Let us depart in peace.’ Until we meet again — if there is such a thing. And if not, treasure this moment — if not forever, at least till you, too, choose when it’s time to die.”
This “solution” hides the reality that we have become victims of a lie — that it is we who know best what the direction and timing of our life (and death) should be.
Unfortunately, that is very often not at all true. God alone knows what we really need, and often we drift into illusions of one kind or another. In this instance, we are missing entirely the truth that life is eternal, not only in duration, but in a quality of life that we can scarcely begin to imagine on this earth.
And our life on this earth is a preparation for that eternal one, which we will have to face at the moment of our death. For eternity is contained in the Eucharist, and that means a gift poured out, one to the other and to all, in praise of God the Blessed Trinity who is forever and ever this dance of joy and generosity.
Without faith, of course, and without faith in and the practice of the Holy Eucharist most especially, there is no need to worry one’s head about preparation for another dimension of life. Or that God may ask us to suffer because this alone can set us free of what has impeded us from being the person we were meant to be in life.
And our being a “burden” to family and friends during the dying process, despite all the hardship and sacrifice required, and anguish endured, may make possible a reconciliation that is truly from heaven. All this can be messy, dramatic — and human, so very beautifully human.
But I don’t think arguments are going to get us very far in this matter. Only a return to the Eucharist can really have any lasting effect on our souls.
And what will ever attract people back, including people who have been hurt by the very custodians of the Eucharist itself — the hierarchy of the Church? Only the sight of someone who is a living icon of Christ giving himself for others.
This can be found in the health and strength of youth, with its energy and spirit of compassionate service and enthusiastic joy in loving.
But it is also found in the sickness and general demise of our older years, by our offering every difficult moment as a prayer for others and a gift from the very heart of pain and again … the joy of loving!
There is a burning Eucharistic Heart in the depths of all this: that of the Son of God himself, spiritual flesh and blood, containing the shape of eternity and the love of humanity. It all leads to rest for the weary in the welcoming arms of the Father of us all.
Come, let us adore.
