Modern images of starving families in war-ravaged countries are haunting. Children hold out empty pots in the hope that they will receive even a few crumbs. Against the backdrop of such images, we read the miracle of multiplying five loaves and gathering twelve baskets of leftovers with a lump in our throat and tears in our eyes. If we ever needed another miracle of loaves, we need it now.
This chapter of John’s Gospel is an extended refection on the Eucharist. After the miracle, Jesus identifies himself as the Bread of Life. Those who first heard the command to “eat my flesh and drink my blood” missed its meaning and so walked away from Jesus. Faith is fragile. Taking this command as calling for some strange cannibalism would be enough to blow out the flickering flame of faith. When we look beyond the physical to a deeper level of meaning, we see that Jesus was giving himself as the sustaining source of our spiritual life.
About the Eucharist, St. Augustine taught, “Become what you receive.” When we receive communion, we commit ourselves to embody Christ by living in his Spirit. We may not work a miracle to satisfy massive hunger, but we can be life-giving bread in other ways. May we who eat be loaves of care and support for others by creating zones of peace amid chaos, by being a calming presence in a heated atmosphere, or by taking time to understand a problem before leaping to a solution.
