Move Up Higher: Remembering Our Oneness through Flesh and Blood
Deuteronomy 8:2-3, 14b-16a; 1 Corinthians 10:16-17; John 6:51-58
If geography is considered, there is the need to literally “move up higher” from the valley of slavery, segregation and denial of identity in Egypt to the march towards the Promised Land up north. This is God’s consistent approach to every evil context—creation of an alternative—from the domination of darkness prior to creation, the extrication of humanity from the deluge that exterminated many people under Noah, to the liberation of an enslaved people in Egypt. In the case of Egypt, God takes the leadership in the march, physically represented by Moses—a child of circumstance and destiny. Moses himself suffered segregation; when his real identity was uncovered, he fled for his life, but he must return to Egypt to lead a redeemed people to the Promised Land, under God’s watch. Somehow, human agency is needed to dismantle human contraptions of divine structures of equality. After many episodes of idolatry, betrayals, rebellions and recriminations, the Promised Land was still inaccessible. It took the life time of Moses, yet the Promised Land was in a distance. The generation of Joshua continued the journey in search of the Promised Land—the Promised land is ever in the future because every generation must present a better world to its successors: this is the meaning of Corpus Christi Sunday—creating a better world.
Nothing good is cheap, not least, liberations from human contrived shackles. From Egypt, with every step of the way, the peoples in quest of liberation distance themselves from the valley of slavery and oppression. With every step in the direction of the Promised Land, the once enslaved people inch closer to the Promised Land. Journey, efforts and resilience are inevitable ingredients on the path to freedom, dignity, identity, respect and happiness. Many die in the process, and many lose hope and give up the struggle, while many attempt to hijack the struggle. The brave and the resilient always find ways to sustain the momentum. It is to the descendants of such that the first reading offers this advice: “Do not forget the Lord, your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, that place of slavery”. Only the power of memory and remembrance of God’s act of freedom sustains every fight for liberation—God’s love and justice!
Our gospel tells a fascinating story about God’s tools—love and sacrifice—for liberation from the shackles of slavery of all kinds. The solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ (Corpus et Sanguis Christi) proposes a dual source of liberation from slavery, segregation and depersonalization—creation and redemption. At creation, humanity was created one flesh and blood. Jesus Christ takes flesh and blood—he became human—to underscore our oneness through flesh and blood. As a source of unity, the creation of the human person as flesh and blood—this source of human identity—becomes its sustenance as food. The Body and Blood of Christ is the sustenance we need to maintain our identity as God’s children and to garner the stamina required for the journey to the Promised Land. By offering his Flesh and Blood as our food, he confirms the unity of human nature and the need for both physical and spiritual food for liberation from slavery.
Human slavery is the outcome of a diseased mind, and it corrupts the best in God’s creation. When God is expelled from human plans and leadership theories, slaveries ensue. Redemption is the recipe for a sinful mind. It is the consumption of the Body and Blood of Christ that guarantees the restoration of creation to its best identity—resemblance to God himself. Jesus makes this argument in this statement: “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. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day”. The separation and depersonalization of today’s society is a denial of the equality in creation and the resurrection of humanity on the last day. When the mind is sick on account of slavery to sin, it must realize that its liberation can only come from allowing itself to feed upon the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. In turn, it must spend itself in the services of food procurement for other human beings as Jesus gives his flesh and blood to set humanity free from the shackles of sin and death. Then, and only then, would our second reading make sense: “Because the loaf of bread is one, we, though many, are one body, for we all partake of the one loaf”.
Today, it simply takes looking around oneself to realize that slavery, segregation and human animosity remain ubiquitous. Domestic violence, tribal unrests, economic inequality, educational subterfuge, religious terrorism and racial blackmail stare us in the face, at home, in the streets and on every media outlet. The common mistake made is to think that the Promised Land has been located, that there is a place where all is well. The Promised Land is any higher ground bereft of slavery, the land of freedom, dignity, respect and happiness. This Promised Land will always be in process and under construction with every human hand on deck. The greatest temptation to avoid is to settle for a “manna”: all kinds of technological advancements, grandiose salaries and unprovable theories of human power over nature, when death sweepstakes humanity from generation to generation effortlessly!
The ultimate price of giving up one’s life in the service of the abolition of slavery, oppression and depersonalization is the quintessential message of this Sunday—Corpus Christi Solemnity. It challenges us to give up our lives in imitation of Christ to construct a happiness gushing and oppression free society. It challenges the best in us—the moral best in us—as a tool for the transformation of ourselves and the cleansing of our society of its oppressive stench. To “move up higher” is to create a moral highway that shocks our blindness to recovery of sight in the humanity of our fellow human beings. It is only then that our second reading becomes a reality: “the bread that we break, is it not a communion in the body of Christ? Because the loaf of bread is one, we, though many, are one body, for we all partake of the one loaf”. Up until we display our unity in full view of all eyes, our Christianity remains a charade!
Here and now, to remember our oneness in flesh and blood, you and I are the “moseses” saddled with the responsibility to move humanity to higher grounds of creational equality, incarnational identity and redemptive bliss. After George Floyd’s death—“I can’t breathe”—and the ravages of Covid-19, both asphyxiating the human person, human agency for change must take its cue from Jesus’ destruction of death by dying in order to give life to others. Incremental injustices only reveal the ineffectiveness of the Body and Blood of Christ we consume, but challenges us to a triumph of goodness over evil; after all, Jesus conquered sin and death in order to unleash love, joy and peace for us through the legacy of his Body and Blood as food. The only “thank you”—Eucharist—worthy of the sacrifice of Christ is to imitate his sacrifice by creating a world of unity and peace, where everyone can breathe freely!