Last Sunday, we interrupted our sequential Year B reading of Mark’s Gospel to hear St. John’s version of Jesus feeding the multitudes with the loaves and fishes.  And now, for the next four Sundays, we are invited to meditate on the spiritual significance of this event: we meet Jesus himself as the living Bread come down from heaven.  These texts, from the Bread of Life discourse in Chapter 6 of John's Gospel, seem at first glance to be very repetitive; Jesus seems to be going back and saying the same thing over and over.  I remember becoming vividly aware of this the summer of my second year as a priest, when I had to preach five Sundays in a row on what seemed to be the same readings!

Having just come back from an eight-day silent retreat at Loyola House in Guelph, I am a little more comfortable recognizing that indeed, God’s word is new each morning, and that if we open ourselves up to Jesus speaking to us through the Word, there is always something new – a deeper insight, an unexpected twist, a new light shed on some aspect of my life.  And the fact that Jesus comes back to this theme again and again, repeating and building on what has come before, indicates the importance of what he is trying to tell us. 

When you sit down and read John's Gospel right through, one thing that becomes very clear is that the community was vitally interested in the question: "Who is Jesus?"  Jesus answers this question in a whole series of images which, like the many facets of a diamond, reveal some particular aspect of who Jesus is: in Himself and also for us.  Leafing through John's Gospel for a half-hour, I found these titles used by others about Jesus: “Word made flesh” (1:1-18); "The Lamb of God" (1:36); "The King of Israel" (1:49);The Son of Man (3:11-16, 8:28); Living Water (4:11);  Messiah or Christ (4:25), "The Son of God" (11:27).

Perhaps even more importantly, what titles are used by Jesus to identify himself – the I AM Statements: THE BREAD OF LIFE (6:45-47), THE LIVING BREAD FROM HEAVEN (6:51); THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD (8:12, 9:5, 12:46); THE GATE OF THE SHEEPFOLD (10:7), THE GOOD SHEPHERD (10:11-18). THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE (11:25); THE WAY, THE TRUTH AND THE LIFE (14:6); THE TRUE VINE. (15:1,5).  I AM (8:58). 

John's community was deeply concerned with this question of the identity of Jesus, and of their own identity, as his followers.  They had been expelled from the synagogues,  a painful break with their Jewish roots.  Already, elements in the community had emerged which denied the real humanity of Jesus: they saw him as an esoteric teacher whose words could only be interpreted by those with special knowledge (Gnostics). In response, John presents us with a Jesus who is fully aware of His divine origins, but also fully human, in touch with the needs of His people for light, for the guidance of a good shepherd, for healing and love and acceptance, for food and drink. 

This helps us see the unfolding of the Bread of Life discourse in a new light.  Jesus begins by responding to a very concrete human need: in touch with their physical hunger, Jesus answers the crowd’s need by providing them with bread.  John’s Gospel reveals to us a Jesus who knows all of our needs, takes them seriously, and seeks to respond to them.  But it also shows us a Jesus whose interventions in the physical order - to feed, to heal, to restore sight, and even life - always point to a deeper, spiritual transformation. 

We are usually so wrapped up in our own immediate temporal needs and desires that we do not take the time to go deeper: to confront our inner struggles and hungers, the deep desires of the human heart that no amount of food or drink, fame or success, or material possessions, can fill.  Like the people of Israel in the first reading, we are quicker to complain about all the things we don’t have, than to give thanks for God’s blessings in our life.  Like the crowd in the Gospel, we ask for more signs, and I can imagine Jesus thinking – I just fed 5,000 people with one kid’s lunch – what more do they expect? 

It’s very easy for us to get complacent, to ignore the many signs of God’s blessing in our lives.  In fact, it is especially in a time of loss – illness, the death or a loved one, a sudden reversal of fortune – that we begin to ask those deeper questions.  Although physical health and material comforts may help us enjoy life, they cannot be the foundation upon which we build.  We need something more solid, more lasting.  We need not just bread, but Jesus: the Living Bread come down from heaven. 

Jesus says today: "I am the bread of life.  Your ancestors ate manna in the wilderness, and they died.  I am the living bread come down from heaven: whoever eats of this bread will live forever."  This is what Jesus wants to be for us: a source of life and nourishment - here and now in this world, but also for all eternity with God.  Jesus wants us not just to believe things about Him, but to truly believe in Him: he invites us into a living and breathing relationship, rooted in trust and love and intimate knowledge, one capable of sustaining us each day, whatever the circumstances in which we find ourselves.

When I was on retreat last week, I found my senses heightened by the silence.  I found myself seeing the trees and flowers, hearing the birdsong and the chirping of crickets, feeling the sun and wind on my skin, tasting the delicious organically-grown produce with heightened awareness and gratitude.  Eating more slowly, with less distractions, savouring each mouthful, I found myself satisfied with less, knowing there was always another meal to look forward to later.  Indeed, as the French say, l’appétit vient en mangeant!

We live and are marked by a binge-ing culture.  If some is good, then more is better: whether it’s food, or gadgets, or social media, or entertainment: I read recently that the Oxford English Dictionary has recognized the word “Binge-watching”: to watch an entire television series at one sitting, whether on DVD or Netflix.  We can be tempted to do the same with our religion, with our own  relationship with Jesus.  We ignore our faith most of the time, then we take God seriously when it's time for a baptism or a confirmation, a wedding or a funeral, Christmas or Easter, but don’t allow Him his rightful place in our everyday life. 

As we expect the call of a federal election anyday now, we could well ask: what would our city, our nation, our world look like if we invited Jesus, the Bread of Life, into our homes and workplaces, our neighbourhoods and nations, our economic and political decisions?  What if instead of adding God as an afterthought, or confining him to some little compartment of my existence, we would allow His presence to permeate our whole being?  Are we willing to allow Christ to reign as Lord of every part of our lives, be part of all the decisions we make? 

We think we can do it on our own.  But we are mistaken.  We need God.  We have perhaps never needed Him more.  And we need God's presence in Jesus not just on special occasions, but as part of our everyday life and existence.  Just as much as we need our daily bread.  Someone once asked Mother Teresa how her sisters recognized Christ, day in and day out, in the lepers, in the dying, the "poorest of the poor".  She responded that early each morning, the sisters spend an hour in silent prayer in the chapel (before the Blessed Sacrament), and then received Jesus in the Eucharist at Mass.  This is what sustained them and enabled them to continue to recognize Jesus in His suffering body, in the neighbour in need of love and attention.  Without this source of life and strength, the sisters could not accomplish their mission. 

I think there's a message in there for us.  We may not feel capable of or called to an hour of silent prayer, but if we are serious about living our faith, becoming a source of healing and nourishment to those around us, we need to return to THE Source: Jesus who gives himself to us, in Word and Sacrament, and to connect with that Source on a daily basis.  It might be by reading and meditating a few minutes on the daily readings, praying a psalm or a decade of the rosary, or taking a few minutes at the end of the day to see how the Lord has been present in my life and reflect on how I have responded to Him. 

"We are what we eat."  In coming forward to receive the Body of Christ, we pledge to become that which we receive.  To become Eucharist, to become living bread for others as Jesus has been for us, is to live in love as Christ has loved us.  It is to become like Jesus in the Eucharist, bread for the world: taken, blessed, broken and shared.   As we receive Jesus, the Bread of Life, let us become His Body, given for the life of the world.