reflection

“How can this man give us his flesh to eat?”

Sunday, June 7, 2026

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Scripture Verse

Readings: Deuteronomy 8:2-3, 14b-16a/ Psalm 147/1 Corinthians 10:16-17/ John 6:51-58
The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ (Corpus Christi)
The question raised in the Gospel “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” is not just the confusion of the crowd; it is a question that echoes through every generation. It confronts the limits of human understanding when faced with divine mystery. We need to know that a mystery is not something hidden from us, it is something so rich that we spend a lifetime discovering it. Jesus does not soften His words. Instead, He deepens them: “My flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink.” This is a profound reality that invites faith beyond what the senses can grasp. The Eucharist is the very heart of our belief: Christ truly present, Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity, under the humble signs of bread and wine. The first reading reminds us of the manna in the desert. God fed His people with bread from heaven to sustain their journey. That manna was only a preparation, a sign pointing toward something greater. In the Eucharist, we receive not just food for the body, but the very life of Christ Himself. This is the new manna, the Bread that gives eternal life. St. Paul speaks of participation: “The bread that we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ?” The Eucharist is not only something we receive; it is something we enter into. We are drawn into communion with Christ and, through Him, with one another. We become what we receive, the Body of Christ in the world. So, like the crowd, we can struggle. The mystery can feel too great, too hidden, too ordinary in appearance. Bread looks like bread; wine looks like wine. But faith sees deeper. Faith hears the voice of Christ and trusts His promise. This solemnity calls us to renew our amazement. The same Jesus who walked the roads of Galilee, who healed the sick, who gave His life on the cross, is truly present in the Eucharist. He gives Himself completely, just as He did on Calvary, now in a sacramental form. This means that what angels contemplate in glory, we receive sacramentally This gift demands a response. If Christ gives Himself entirely to us, how can we not give ourselves to Him? The Eucharist becomes both gift and mission: we are nourished so that we may become nourishment for others, through love, sacrifice, and service. The question, then, is no longer “How can this be?” but “Do I believe, and how will I live because of it?”