Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle A

Matthew 20:1-16

It wasn’t too long ago that Scott Adams passed away.  If you like comic strips you must remember “Dilbert”, the strip Adams wrote for many years.  Dilbert was a nerdy engineer, whose relationship with his pointy haired boss and his difficulty with the opposite sex made for humor that at least I appreciated.  And now and then he would branch off to the Alligator family or the Prince of Heck, who ruled an afterlife consisting of constant annoyances.  

Adams, shortly before he died, admitted that he didn’t believe in God or life after death, but had decided to hedge his bets by accepting Jesus as his Lord and Savior.  He said that he was doing this because he really would like to go on living in the heaven that people described, and as far as he could tell nothing more needed to be done than to accept Jesus -- a common teaching among many protestant denominations.  We will hope that Adams is enjoying heaven.

But I thought of him when I read this gospel.  And I noticed that I felt a little envious -- if that’s all it takes to get into heaven, I’ve certainly been banging my head on the wall for most of my life.  I’ve been working hard trying to grow in virtue and reject sin, and you probably have as well.  Can you think about other famous death bed conversions?  The writer Oscar Wilde was one -- after a very dissolute life of drugs and alcohol and sexual perversion, he converted to Catholicism almost on his death bed, and that seemed to be a real conversion.  But perhaps the most famous deathbed conversion was that of Saint Dismas, who was told by Jesus himself that he would be in Paradise that day, the day he was crucified.  

I think it’s interesting that the workers who worked all day don’t go to the landowner and say, “Give us more, we’ve done a lot more work than these others.”  Instead, they look at those who only worked an hour and tell the landlord, “You have made them equal to us!”.   To desire a revision in the original contract is not irrational, but that’s not what the workers were asking,  They were committing the sin of envy.  It reminds me of the story of the genie who popped out of the lamp and told the one rubbing it that he was a special kind of genie, he would grant any wish to the one rubbing the lamp and give twice as much to the man’s worst enemy.  The lamp rubber thought for a minute and said, “All right.  Make me blind in one eye.”  

Jesus starts this parable as usual --” the kingdom of heaven is like…” Maybe the parable is not about the workers at all, but rather about the landowner, who represents something about God.  And God says, “Are you envious because I am generous?”  Every week I go around and visit people in the nursing home.  I see Violet, whose brain works fine but who can’t even feed herself -- going on fifteen years now.  I see Beth, who can barely get from bed to wheelchair, and who is nearly blind.   In her younger years she was a dynamic social worker who loved to read.  I meet Bill, who is gradually losing his mind to Alzheimer's and knows it.  A man who contributed a lot to his profession and now leaves his room and can’t find his way back by himself.  I wonder if they envy me.  Do they have any reason to believe that God is generous?

When we look at the parable, the landowner owns the vineyard-- the workers have no claim on it.  The landowner keeps going back to the workers and inviting more to work in his vineyard.  You and I have no claim on God because of our behavior, because of our trying to live a good life, because of our prayers and participation in the sacraments.  One time Jesus was called “Good master” and he replied, “no one is good except the Father”.  That’s the bottom line.  You and I  and the people suffering in the nursing home and the Pope are not good, none of us deserve any of God’s favors.  But God according to Jesus loves each of us and loves us so much that he dies for us.  Rain falls on the good and bad alike,  And what message should we go home with, what is the gospel saying to us?  God loves me regardless of whether I’m worthy of his love, because I’m not.  If I have nothing else, I have life -- God gave me life because he thought I would like it.  And it may please God that I respond to his love in some way  by acting more god-like, but it doesn't change his love.  And with respect to life after death, I believe that God wants me to be with him for all eternity, and only I have the  p;ower to avoid that.  How will it be when I see Scott Adams in heaven?  Will I say “you have made him equal to me, how is that fair?"  Or can I bring myself to say, "Thank you for your love you give .”

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle A

Matthew 13:44-52

  Did any of you ever want to be a super-hero?  Wonder woman, Superman, those kinds of people?  I think a lot of kids, at least before the age of the cell phone, would dream about being super, being able to fly, to lift buildings, to have bullets bounce off of you or at least, in the case of wonder woman, off your bracelets.  Superheroes seemed to have it all, and even though the comic books we had told stories where they faced terrible opponents, also holding superpowers, our heroes always triumphed in the end.  We are born with the desire to triumph over obstacles; two-year-olds get frustrated when things don’t work out the way they want, and they let you know it.  I think we are designed to long for a life without limitations.

Very early on, though we learn that there are limitations.  We have to make choices in how we spend our energy, our time, our money.  And every time we make a choice, we leave behind what might have been.  IF you choose to get married to this person, you cut off the possibility of marrying another person.  If you choose to buy a Jeep, say goodbye to the Chevrolet.  

Today Jesus seems to be saying that the kingdom of heaven is a choice we make -- it’s within our reach, if we are willing to let go of everything else.  That certainly seems to be what a lot of saints did.  Saint Francis threw the clothes he was wearing at his father’s feet, renouncing everything to pursue the kingdom of heaven.  Saint Anthony of the Desert sold the significant property he inherited from his family and gave it all away, except for a stipend to a couple of widows to take care of his sister -- and then went out to live in the desert.  So many saints renounced everything to pursue the kingdom.  

But that’s not the whole story.  There have been lots of saints who didn’t renounce everything.  Saint Margaret of Scotland was a queen; Saint Henry and Saint Kunaginda were a married couple ruling over Bavaria.  The parents of Saint Therese of Lisieux, saints in their own right, had to struggle like every married couple to provide for their family and deal with living in the modern world.  Carlos Acuta was very middle class and had the latest computer games. For many saints selling everything you have to obtain the kingdom of heaven didn’t seem to fit their lives.  You and I might envy the saints who gave up everything, but we know we are more like those that had stuff.  

One way to get at what Jesus is saying is to go back and read all of Matthew’s chapter 13, which contains eight of the twelve parables Jesus gives us to understand the kingdom of God.  When we look at all of them together, we begin to understand that the kingdom is more valuable than anything we can exchange for it, as we hear in the parable of the buried treasure; that everyone is welcome in the kingdom but some choose to turn away, as we hear in the parable of the sewer; the kingdom starts small but grows, as in the parable of the mustard seed; the kingdom is meant to change the world, as in the parable of the yeast.  From parables in the other gospels, we learn that the kingdom is like a great party -- the parable of the banquet; we can be left out of the kingdom by getting too involved in other things -- the parable of the ten virgins, remember, five wise and five foolish; and God wants us to take risks to build the kingdom -- the parable of the talents.  The kingdom is where God forgives us for all of our transgressions but expects us to forgive each other -- the ungrateful steward.  Finally, the kingdom is a free gift, a gift that we don’t earn, a gift God gives to all who ask -- the parable of the workers in the vineyard.  Now if you don’t remember any of those parables, ask me later or go read about them, because when you put them all together you get a picture of what Jesus means by the kingdom.  When Jesus tells us the kingdom of heaven is within us, that means we have the power to shape ourselves into citizens of the kingdom by the way we choose to see ourselves, our neighbor, and the world in general.  If we truly recognize that we are loved beyond anything we can imagine, we can withstand whatever the world throws at us.  If we truly recognize that every human being is also beloved and made in the image of God, it will be hard to hate anyone or ignore their pain.  If we truly see that everything is a gift, our hearts will be grateful rather than envious; our prayers will begin with thanksgiving rather than petition -- and most of all, we will be happy and look forward to the ultimate happiness Jesus offers his followers in the next life.  And if we gain the joy of possessing the kingdom of heaven, we will see others catch the joy from us, because the kingdom of heaven is contagious.  

So now that you know what the kingdom is all about, go and tell others, like the head of a household who brings from his storehouse the new and the old.  

   

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary time, cycle A

Matthew 18:1-23

I have a patch of land in the back of my house that I care for.  It’s an area about twenty feet long by fifteen wide of grass, surrounded by bushes.  That’s the aspirational idea, anyway.  In truth the bushes are infiltrated with some horrible species of vine that I have to keep chopping back, along with other weeds.  But the patch of grass, that’s something even worse.  If you are looking from a distance it doesn’t look so bad, but up close, it’s not grass so much as various weeds growing in what appears to be mostly barren ground.  Over the course of  years I’ve worked on that patch of grass.  My son and I dug it all up, leveled it out, planted new grass seed, watered it faithfully, and for a couple of years it looked good.  Then it began to revert again.  I dug it all up and  bought those rolls of sod, which I laid down.  Looked good -- till a couple of years went by.  I hired an expert to come in and do what I could not do.  It turned out he couldn’t either.  And so for the last few years I’ve kind of given up.  I  mow it now and then and on hot days I water the patch a little but I’ve found the best way to deal with my patch is to ignore it, to watch it from a distance.  I’m either a terrible gardener, or this is really poor soil.  I favor that idea.

Growing up, my mother’s side of the family were excellent gardeners.  Mom loved to plant her garden in the spring and then force me and my sister to weed it.  My uncle Phil had an incredible garden -- whatever he planted grew abundantly.  In fact all ten siblings except my aunt the nun had beautiful gardens.  The secret was in the soil.  

If you wanted a great  garden, it began with the soil.  Nowadays  you can go buy bags of soil from the hardware store.  I always resent having to buy dirt, but we do -- and my wife can grow about anything if she puts her mind to it.  But my mom’s siblings would never have used their hard earned money to buy dirt.  The preparation of the soil was paramount.  It involved scattering dried cow manure over the area then spading it into the ground.  This aerated and fertilized the soil.  Every couple of years you laid down lime and worked that into the soil as well; it counteracted the acid.  And during the growing season you water the land -- and even that has to be done carefully so as to avoid erosion and leaching the nutrients out of the soil.

I suspect the people listening to Jesus were aware of what it takes to make good soil as well.  In today’s gospel Jesus talks about seeds and soil.  Some seed falls on the path where people walk; on the concrete sidewalk.  That seed has no chance.  Some fell on rocky ground where it couldn't put down roots.  Some fell into areas where weeds grew up and choked the new plant. But some seeds fell on good soil and yielded an abundant harvest.

Is Jesus telling us that it’s all just chance? It seems that way, sometimes.  There are parts of the world where the gospel isn’t heard  because preachers are thrown in jail or executed, like North Korea.  There are places where the whole apparatus of the state favors one religion and the Christian message is drowned out.  There are still places in the world where the message of the gospel can’t compete with the struggle of the people to just find enough food to stay alive - parts of Africa come to mind.  And there are places where the message of JEsus conflicts with the prevailing message of the society, where religion is laughed at, where men can be women, where if you are depressed you can have someone put you out of your misery by assisted suicide, where the  golden rule is do whatever you want because there are no long term consequences, there is no life after death. 

But there are things you and I can control;  we can control the soil on which the word of God falls for us.  My uncles and aunts, with hard work, could grow gardens that yielded enough produce to last through the winter.  They knew how to create good soil..  You and I do as well, with respect to the word of God that falls on our soil.  Faith is a fragile thing that needs tending.  You can choke it off with the cares of the world, with distractions like the internet, television programs, sports … you name it.  We can always find ways to amuse ourselves.   You can starve the faith by failing ot fertilize it.    Prayer, strengthens faith; training ourselves by fasting, by breaking bad habits, by adopting new habits, that helps our faith grow.  And growing in love of God by actively loving our neighbor, that is great fertilizer for our soil.  

IN our time there are so many parts of the world where the word of God is falling on bad soil and we can only hope that God in his own time will do what he has promised and bring all men and women into his heavenly kingdom.  But we can control our own soil, we can create the conditions for the word of God to bear abundant fruit -- and that’s where the making over of the world to become good soil begins. 

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle A

Matthew 11:25-30

  This passage is from Chapter 11 in Matthew’s gospel. It begins with the disciples of John asking Jesus if he is the Messiah or should they look for another.  Jesus doesn’t directly answer the question but praises John, and then goes on to say the least in the kingdom of  Heaven is greater than he.  Then Jesus talks about how “this generation” is never satisfied, and illustrates that by pointing out that the towns in which he has worked his great miracles have not become converted. Remember the gospel when Jesus drove the demons into pigs?  The people begged him to leave them alone.  Jesus implies that those who do follow him are not the wise and learned -- seeming to imply the Pharisees and the priests, but “little ones” -- people who aren’t wise and learned, the common people, the tradesmen, the outcasts.  

Jewish religious leaders had studied the scriptures and had come up with 613 separate commandments.  A good Jew was expected to know them and follow them.  They covered about anything you could imagine.  One of the commandments was to for each male Jew to write a copy of the commandments for himself.  Another was not to gather imperfect clusters of grapes from your vineyard.  Still another is not to eat a worm found in a piece of fruit.  In any event, the rabbi’s referred to all these commandments as a yoke.  You can imagine how a fisherman like Saint Peter looked at these rules.  And Paul was very proud of the fact that he was a stickler for following the law.

As Jesus looks out upon his followers as he is speaking he tells them in effect, that his yoke is easy, his burden light.  As you can imagine, this message was probably very popular.  

Jesus asks the crowds to learn from him because he is meek and humble of heart.  What does this mean?  Meekness is not cowering in the corner, or letting someone walk all over you.  Jesus was not that.  When you read the gospels you don’t see a coward; Jesus speaks his mind and works miracles and at least one time got kind of violent.  Meekness has within it being patient.  If I want something and am willing to wait for it, that’s meekness.  Jesus wants our hearts and wants us to join him in building up the kingdom of heaven, but he gives us time and opportunity and puts up with our failures.  Sometimes our image of God centers on his majesty, his power, and his judgment.  We think of God as someone who might smite you for going off the rails.  Jesus tells us that isn’t an accurate picture of God.  In the Book of Revelation we meet the souls who have been martyred and are waiting under the altar.  They say “how long till we are avenged?” and the Lord answers, be patient a little longer because there will be more joining you before the end.  Jesus is meek, and urges us to be meek.

Jesus is humble of heart.  A proud person sees the universe revolving around him or her. If there is an offense, the proud person refuses to forgive. “Who does he think that he is?” the proud person asks. He or she is not concerned with returning the sinner to a loving relationship. His or her only concern is with vengeance, getting the sinner back for the offense. That is not the way of the Lord. He is humble of heart. His concern is not with how he has been offended. His concern is how to rescue the sinner from the consequences of his sin.

Jesus is contrasting himself with the religious authorities of his day.  They had no patience with failure.  IF you were labeled a sinner, a Pharisee would cross the street to  avoid walking near you.  Forgiveness from your sin was an ordeal, involving sacrifice of an animal or a bird, the more the better.  And if you were a public sinner, like a leper you had to have a priest certify that you were reformed.  

And we all have a picture from the gospels of the religious authorities demanding recognition of their importance.  They would wear tassels on their clothing as the law prescriptive, but they’d make them long and ornate.  They would have someone blow a trumpet to call attention to their contribution to the temple treasury.  Jesus is not that, he’s humble of heart.  

When he invites us to take his yoke, he is promising to lend us his strength to face whatever we have ahead of us.  He offers to be our partner, our coach, as we go through life.  And he invites us to imitate him, because he is the only one who can reveal the father to us but asks only that we also must be meek and humble of heart so that we can receive his gentle help.  

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time cycle A

 Matthew 10:37-42

When I was growing up in Montana, my models were all the strong silent types who never asked anything from anybody.  You’ve probably watched a few of those old western movies.  That was really the way men behaved in public.  As I learned later, not so much in private.  But that attitude stuck with me most of my life.  I didn't accept help from other people unless I had no other choice.  But I guess God is trying to tell me something as I get older and begin to notice unwelcome changes in my ability to walk and notice the loss of strength and stamina.  The other day I nearly toppled over when I got up from a chair and had to grab my daughter’s arm  to steady myself.  

The gospel we heard today contains instructions Jesus gave to his disciples as he sends them out on mission.  You may remember he told them not to take extra clothing or money; they were to be dependent on the people to whom they were sent.  Think about that.  The disciples were without resources and totally dependent on strangers.  And Jesus promises that those who receive them receive Jesus and by extension, the Father.  He goes on to elaborate that those who extend hospitality to someone who is on mission share in the reward for the missionary.  And he reminds them that even when a cup of water is offered to a “little one" for his sake, that person will receive his reward.

As I read this section of the gospel, I think it’s telling us something about God the Father.  As the scriptures tell us elsewhere God loves his creation; he cares for the plants growing in the field, the birds of the air; he sends the rain to fall on the good as well as the bad.  Every time Israel disobeyed him, they ended up in trouble; and time and time again he rescued them.  Sometimes we think of God as arbitrary, or at least not constrained in any way.  Yet we see by these words of Jesus as well as many other examples, that God acts in predictable ways; he binds himself, so to speak.  And the speech about rewards for receiving others is part of that predictability.  If we give a drink of water to one of these little ones in his name, we will certainly not lose our reward.

So think about that.  If you give five dollars to help a missionary, you will receive the reward God gives to the missionary.  And by extension, you share in the reward God gives for all those who do his work when you support their work.  Now it’s a good thing to support people doing God’s work, and we shouldn’t be doing this to get rewarded.  Nevertheless God promises that we will be rewarded; he will act in a predictable way, either in this life or the next.  

I think that gives a way to see those first statements -- who loves mother or father more than me is not worthy of me, and so forth.  Our goal as Christians is to become other Christs.  Jesus certainly demonstrated in his life that he loved people.  When he wept at Lazarus’ tomb before raising him up, the bystanders said, “see how much he loved him”.  Every time Jesus healed someone he was demonstrating God’s love for that person.  The first epistle of John tells us outright that God is love, not that God loves.  So to become another Christ is to love like Jesus loved, and love others because we see Jesus in them.  

One of the things we see about Jesus is that he wasn’t the strong silent type who wouldn’t take help from anyone.  He sends disciples out on mission -- we read about him sending out the twelve, and later, 72 of his followers, and he still sends them out. Jesus fed the crowds in the miraculous multiplication of the loaves and fishes; and he washed the disciples' feet; and he fixed them breakfast on the shore of the lake.  Jesus offered hospitality.  But he received hospitality as well.  He accepted being waited upon by Peter’s mother in law.  He took advantage of the hospitality offered by Martha and her family, and by Simon the Pharisee, and by the two traveling on the road to Emmaus.  By his example he tells us to give to each other and receive from each other.  How would the world be if you and I took his example to heart.  Visitors to our parish would be welcomed, not ignored or avoided.  The clerk in the grocery store would be noticed and be thanked for her service.  Like Jesus we would see, really see, the presence of God in the people we encounter, because we love Jesus and want to honor him wherever we find him.

Jesus really wants a change in our hearts.  And it’s not easy.  It requires you and I to develop new habits, and that’s very difficult, that’s the cross we have to take up to follow him.  And in my own case, it’s very hard to let go of my self-image as that old western stereotype, the strong, silent type.  But as my body begins to fall apart, God is helping me to change that self-image, to realize that I am dependent on others and will be more so as time goes on.  I try to love as Jesus loved; but can I learn to accept the love of others as well? 

Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle A

Matthew 9:36 - 10:8

Next weekend is father’s day weekend and as some of you know I’m a father to six, a grandfather to 20, and a great-grandfather to one, soon to be two. I’ve watched a lot of little humans come into this world who are all in various states of developing as human beings. I’m still developing myself, if I believe my wife. I learn things from my descendants. My oldest grandson was given an incredible talent -- he can sit down at a keyboard and play anything by ear and has composed music as well. And he makes part of his living playing for his local church. My youngest granddaughter is playing the lead in her school play. I could brag on all of them but don't worry, I won't. What I'm most proud of, though, is the fact that everyone, including the ones married into the family, are practicing Catholics. I hope that never changes. I look forward to many family reunions in heaven someday.

Today Jesus looks out on the crowds who follow him. They were a ragged bunch. They were poor; lived on the margins, many not knowing where their next meal was coming from. And the point is, they were his kinsmen. Jesus was a proud Jew, if you could call him proud. The one thing the Jewish people had that no one else had was a highly developed ethical system. IF you read the Jewish scriptures, they aren’t very different from what Jesus taught, especially the commandments of God having to do with the orphans, the widows, the stranger in your town. They say that among all the people of the world at that time, the Jewish attitude towards women was the most enlightened. Jewish women, despite abuses, had a lot of rights. And as Jesus looked out on his kin, he felt deep in his gut sorrow for them -- because the Jewish priesthood which had been established largely to keep the law alive among the people, had become more concerned about ritual and keeping the flow of money coming. The people, Jesus’ kinsmen, were sheep without a shepherd.

Jesus longed to set things right for his brothers and sisters. In today's Gospel we hear how he proposes to do that. He appoints twelve of his followers to do what he’s been doing -- to go and set things right, to not only proclaim the kingdom of God, but to begin to bring it about. They have been given the power to heal the sick, cleanse lepers, drive out demons and even raise the dead. And Jesus, because he loves his own people, his Jewish brothers and sisters, tells them that this is where they are to begin bringing about the kingdom.

In the first century of Christianity, the vast majority of Christians were first or second generation Jews. The Jewish people outside of Jerusalem loved the idea that you didn’t need to go to Jerusalem and offer a goat in order to please God. Christianity taught that God came to you wherever you were, in the preaching of his disciples and in the Eucharist. Yes, even in the first century Christians believed that Jesus had instituted a special way for him to be present to them. Now the sacrifice that Jesus had made to the Father on behalf of the people could be re-presented anywhere in the world. Not all Jews joined the Jesus movement. And of course here we are, people who have been adopted into Jesus' family.

We Catholics, and to be frank, most Christians, sort of believe deep in their hearts that Jesus' movement is best left to the professionals -- priests, ministers, religious men and women, professional missionaries. The rest of us support them with money and sometimes a commitment of time. But Jesus didn’t appoint professionals to carry out his work of ministering to his brothers and sisters. The reason Matthew names the twelve is because the people of his time knew about these men and knew they did not have a degree among themselves, were not ordained like the priests, were not full time religious like the Pharisees. The twelve were like you and I. And Jesus started his movement with uncredentialed people. And his movement will continue to the extent that uncredentialed Christians go and do what Jesus did.

Did Jesus ever take away what he gave to his disciples? The ability to heal, to drive out demons, even to raise the dead? I don’t know if he ever did. Sometimes I think we have those abilities but are afraid to act upon them. But I think Jesus wants us to feel what he felt -- an almost physical pain when we see our brothers and sisters -- Jesus’ brothers and sisters - wandering around like sheep without a shepherd, because until we do, we aren’t going to be moved to do much to proclaim that God’s kingdom is at hand.

I look at my extended family and when I see things going wrong, when I see one of them hurting, I hurt as well. When I see a grandchild's faith shaken by something, I want to tell them that things will get better. Their pain is my pain, but their triumph is mine as well. That empathy we have with our own family members is how Jesus wants us to see all people. Because you and I are being called to gather the incredible harvest that is there, ripe for the taking for Jesus. You and I are the laborers, we are the answer to Jesus’ prayer.

Corpus Christi 2026

John 6:51-58

When I was about five, I remember being introduced to the idea of Holy Communion.. Because my birthday was in December and I could read a little bit, the sisters of Charity put me in first grade rather than kindergarten, a choice that affected my whole life, because all my classmates were six months to a year older than me, and let me know it. But I remember that I lived in my body -- I thought my soul was sort of like a balloon tied to my body with a thread -- I didn’t pay much attention to it. When I received my first communion I could feel Jesus presence in my body, sort of like a warmth radiating from the host all through my body. This went on for a very long time. Somewhere, probably when I begin to live in my soul and considered my body as that which caused me to sin, I lost that sensation -- but was reassured that the body and blood of Jesus, which I really consumed in Holy Communion, had all the accidents of bread and wine, so not feeling Jesus was pretty normal, I guess. My body was where I sinned, my soul where I encountered Jesus.

But today we hear Jesus astonishing words -- Unless you eat my flesh and drink my blood you shall not have life in you. And John the gospel writer translates the word “eat” with a greek word that describes the kind of eating that a starving animal might exhibit -- not the mannerly eating we expect of our children and ourselves.

If you go back to Genesis, God said, Let us make man in our image and likeness. He went on to say that we would be given dominion over all other creatures. And afterwards God looked at his creation and saw that it was good. Someone once said, “why did God give us bodies, which cause us to sin, which get sick and grow old and eventually die?” and someone else answered, “because he thought we’d like them.” The bodies God gave Adam and Eve were indeed bodies we would like -- never sick, never aged, no pain, no rebellion -- these two, a perfect man and a perfect woman -- could stand naked in front of each other and control all their feelings and impulses. It says, “they were naked but not ashamed”. When they chose to disobey God, he took away a lot of those good things about the body, among them the gift of immortality. And in a way, that was as mercy, because to live forever in rebellion against God is the very definition of hell.

And after the fulfillment of time, the word of God became a body. God took on a body in the womb of Mary, was born, nursed at the breasts of his creation -- lived a totally human life, including an agonizing death. In doing so, he glorified the human body and restored its immortality.

We Catholics and many other Christians believe that the bread and wine become the body and blood of Christ. When we partake of this it is our bodies which digest this heavenly banquet. Jesus chooses to nourish our flesh and blood with his own. But Jesus is nourishing us with his resurrected body, his immortal and unlimited body.

I was thinking about all this when I asked myself the question, why do I know people who are good Christians who do not receive the body and blood of Jesus? It’s clear that you don’t need to receive Jesus to be a good Christian. I can accept that the reception of the Holy Eucharist, given the right disposition, can be an occasion of grace, a channel of God’s power to assist us in carrying out his work and helping us avoid sin. But probably all of us can think of a protestant brother or sister who shares our baptism, who clearly has the makings of a saint, but never receives the Eucharist.

We can certainly argue that God is not limited by our rules and is clearly at work outside our Church. But why do we say you have to receive the Eucharist at least once a year, and it’s a great thing to receive weekly, or even greater to receive on a daily basis. So here are some reasons to receive the Eucharist as often as possible.l

First, Jesus really wants to show us that he is concerned about bodies -- our body and that of our neighbor. So we should be concerned as well. As James the apostle tells us “If a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,’ but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is that?”

Second, Jesus reminds us that he wishes to make us into other Christs -- and we can pray as we receive, “Let my hands be your hands, my heart be yours, let my love be your love”. So the eucharist is a reminder of what being a Christian is all about.

Third, we know that receiving the Eucharist does not make a person a Christian. We know that receiving the Eucharist unworthily can be a cause for eternal punishment, if we go by Saint Paul. But think of it this way. YOu’ve probably known people who show their love by offering food. I had a grandmother like that. The Eucharist is the way Jesus shows his love to his people by offering them his resurrected body and blood for our food. To receive this offering is a sign that we recognize his love for us.

On this Sunday of the body and blood of Christ, let us approach the Eucharist knowing that Jesus loves everything about us, including our bodies, which are destined to become like His own resurrected Body.