The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ

Today we celebrate the feast of the Body of Christ and remember the offering Christ gave to us when he said, ‘Take this and eat for this is my body,’ and later he took the cup of wine and said, ‘Take this and drink for this is my blood.’

Growing up in the north of England, in a predominantly Protestant country, I was aware from an early age how important it was to attend Sunday Mass and partake of ‘holy communion’ This was to show to everyone who was our neighbor, that I was a true Catholic and faithful to the teachings of the doctrinal church. Over the years I have modified this outlook and broadened my understanding of faith and witness. Broadened my idea of communion and ‘being at the table.’

Throughout my time of 13 years as a lay missioner in Kenya, East Africa, and now 35 years as a Maryknoll sister in Guatemala, Central America, the partaking of the bread and wine in ‘holy communion’ with others has taken on so many different forms and meanings.

The poorest of the poor will always welcome you into their homes and offer you something to nourish your time with them. In Pokot, Kenya, the nomadic pastoralists would offer me a cup of sour goat’s milk or a drink of fresh camel’s milk in a gourd primed with charcoal to preserve the flavor of the milk. In Guatemala we are always served a glass of fresco (a chilled fruit drink of watermelon or lemon or orange) whenever we go to someone’s home. I also make sure my fridge has fresh fruit to make my own fresco.

No matter how limited the household is, there is always something for the visitor to drink.

During COVID we all learned to ‘worship’ online and often had a small cracker or biscuit or piece of bread in front of the computer to join everyone else in communion. In that moment of sharing, the distance and separation ceased to exist. We were all one and the same in the body of Christ.

Sharing my meager bowl with all continues to challenge me, even though I never seem to lack food or drink, and sharing my resources is never a stretch. Yet 80 percent of all our residents in our HIV hospice come to us not only with serious health concerns but inevitably with chronic malnutrition symptoms. We need to feed first and then talk about medical care. When the residents start to respond to the increase in healthy food intake, their whole lives change. They become more engaged in their surroundings, their energy levels rise, and they are interested in being active in the group.

I think that’s what happens when we identify with Christ as the ‘body and blood’ of our faith. We become energized and full of life ready to reach out to the other along the way.

Jesus himself understood the importance of this offering of food and drink to sustain the people. We come to see Jesus as a person concerned with not only the spiritual welfare of his followers but also their physical needs. He knew no one listens to endless preaching when their stomach rumbles with hunger. He also taught his disciples to welcome the stranger to the table, to reach out and invite the marginalized and forgotten into the communion (the community.)

Now, with the election of a new pope, a pope who spent years in mission in Peru, the Church continues to be challenged to feed the hungry and quench the thirst of those we meet. Pope Leo XIV made as much clear in his first address, saying that everyone is welcome, that we need to be inclusive since the Church and the faith is the right of all. He said, ‘We are all in God’s hands. Therefore, without fear, united hand in hand with God and among ourselves, let us move forward. We are disciples of Christ.’

How can we, as Christians, take on Pope Leo’s challenge into the future?