What I give is my flesh

Eating the flesh of Christ is not an easy thing. A routine reception of 'communion' does not ensure consuming Christ, the Word made flesh. Only by entering into communion with God and one another we can be 'satisfied' of eating Him. The flesh he gives us to eat is also a sacrament of human reality in its existential, biological and cosmological dimensions. Thus, the flesh given us to eat ("the bread I give to you is my flesh") has the taste of wounded humanity, its struggles and burdens, sweat, blood and tears. All narratives on suffering are beyond interpretations. His flesh interprets it for us. If the sacramental reception has no connection to the living reality of human flesh, our 'communion' has no relation with Christ.

'Attending' of mass, and receiving of communion as a receiving of  'food of great blessing,' and a 'bread of miraculous power' often keep the reality of communion aside. More than a communion that we enter into, it becomes an instrument of benefit from God. Approached as a sacrament of living presence of Christ, we can never be away from our responsible commitment to the injured flesh of humanity and nature.

Everything exists in him and for him. He holds all things in being. Our flesh, like the Word, is incarnated into communion. Thus his Word is our food, and his flesh is our food.

The third day

The third day is not a miraculous day after two days, it is the moment hope takes us a bit more to the fullness of life and peace. 

Victim

God did not punish Christ on the Cross. It is we who punish the innocent victims seen in the punished Christ on the Cross. So, on one hand, in the crucified we see the mercy and love poured for us, and on the other hand we see the justice to be ensured for the millions of victims who suffer. Both are invitation to embrace the cross, one to accept God's love, and second to extend life through a sense of justice.

"There will be poor always," "someone has to do these things," "at least they have an income" ... are the 'holy sacrifice' language justifying the victimhood. Saviour's redeeming cross should not be a justifying language for injustice. Enter into the victimhood suffered near and far, there there is the life giving Tree; not when cross becomes a devotional object.

Victim suffers a burdening, burning and pulsating pain. To speak to the wearied, what we need is peace that fills us with life. That consoles our 'fire' of anger and direct us into healing and grace. Victims are reminded, not about their woundedness, though important, they are led to peace and love. We think of the abundance of life, not about a destructive end. In time, we enter into fullness of life, consoled, strengthened, and healed.

from the streams of life

Was Jesus fully aware in detail what was going to happen to him in Jerusalem? I like to see as he was not. There were uncertainties and darkness. "Father, this cup ..." was a cry for strength to walk into the darkness. Like him, we too drink from the stream of life, to step into the dark with trust in the Father. It terrifies, but as we walk, the stream gives freshness to life. Led by hope we walk until light begins to spread.

Uncertainties and complexities we face are often termed as evil, even are personified. Listening to these realities are difficult, but brings light to the darkness we are burdened with. Easy readymade answers may offer satisfaction for us. They are not truth, they are stories.

What must shine in us in the darkness is the virtues by which we grow into Christ. But these virtues we desire can be grown only when we know that we are one body in Christ. The pain and suffering is seen in compassion, shared in charity, acted upon in justice. God loves us in Christ, we grow to Christ to be in communion with the Father, "Into your hands, I commend my spirit."