Today’s readings: Exodus 16:2-4, 12-15; Ephesians 4:17, 20-24; John 6:24-35
It is often said that if you want people to attend an event, promise them that there would be food and you will not be disappointed. The Maltese proverb, ‘Tajjeb għax tajjeb, tajjeb għax b’xejn’ (it’s good because it’s tasty, it’s good because it is free) never seems to lose its pointedness.
“Were they Maltese by any chance?” a friend of mine quipped, reacting to the crowds who followed Jesus in thousands after having been fed by him following the miraculous multiplication of the loaves and fishes.
On a more serious note, our social media feeds over the past few days have been exposing the injustices experienced by third-country nationals doing work for a very low wage. It is ironic that food delivery couriers are among those who are not paid enough to enjoy a decent meal.
The link between the bread we break and freedom is not incidental. There is a strong relationship between the Eucharist and justice, between the Body of Christ and being relieved of oppression.
A person known to me, who had been living a situation of domestic abuse for many years, once confided in me an experience I found very moving. She told me that when she finally managed to move out of the abusive relationship, finding herself suddenly without a roof, she decided to make her way to a shelter for women in difficulty run by a local religious organisation.
Battered and exhausted from the ordeal, she was welcomed warmly around a table where she shared a frugal meal with other women coming from similar situations. This person told me that that meal was the most delicious she had ever tasted and that it restored her to life like nothing else.
That meal of white pasta for her signified the inauguration of a new life. She could now embrace a dignity that was hers. She could feel in her own flesh, and in a way she could not explain, a kind of communion with those who were passing through similar situations on that table and many other tables around the world, including those for whom this freedom was not yet a reality.
Jesus challenges his disciples, urging them to strive not for the food that perishes but for that which lasts forever
Enfleshing Freedom, by Shawn CopelandIn her book Enfleshing Freedom, black feminist theologian Shawn Copeland comments: “The disciples of Jesus are called to contest in their bodies and in their bodily living, assembly (Church) and communion (Eucharist) any indignity against any oppression of those children, youth, women, and men – members of his family who are hungry and thirsty, need welcome and care, clothing and shelter, companionship and solidarity (Matt 25:39).”
In today’s first reading, upon crossing the desert towards freedom, the Israelites feel nostalgia for the delicious and abundant food they ate while being held as slaves in Egypt. They preferred food to freedom.
In the Gospel, Jesus challenges his disciples, urging them to strive not for the food that perishes but for that which lasts forever. He speaks of himself as the bread that came down from heaven.
Jesus entered into solidarity with all of us who are oppressed by our own sin and that of others, to raise us to our original freedom of sons and daughters of God. When we eat bread, it becomes part of our body, but upon eating the bread of life, St Augustine teaches, we become part of Christ’s body. This truth has real implications on the political, social and economic practices not only as individuals but also as communities.
To partake of the body of Christ is to share in the suffering body of Christ, that is, of all those whose bodies that are, right now around us, being abused for monetary gain or political advantage. If we really enter into solidarity with those who are suffering, then and only then would relationships start to change. Only then would food feel tastier and be more abundant.