Real Food, Real Drink: John 6

One of the things that led to my conversion was realizing that there were many parts of the Bible that I had neglected. When I read them in light of the Catholic Church’s teaching, they seemed to come alive. John 6 is one of those passages. When people wonder why the Catholic Church is so centered on the Mass, I love to go to John 6 to explain it. 1 Cor 11 also is helpful. This article from John Salza at ScriptureCatholic.com is a great reflection on this passage. Chris

John 6:53-58, 66-67

“So Jesus said to them, ‘Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, you have no life in you; he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. For my flesh is food indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me and I in him. As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so he who eats me will live because of me. This is the bread which came down from heaven, not such as the fathers ate and died; he who eats this bread will live forever.’ After this many of his disciples drew back and no longer went about with him. Jesus said to the twelve, ‘Will you also go away?’”

Most Protestants believe that the bread and wine offered by the Catholic priest in the Holy Mass are only symbols of Christ’s body and blood. They do not believe that Christians have to actually eat the flesh and drink the blood of Christ to have eternal life. They do not believe that Christ’s flesh is actual food, and His blood actual drink. Why, then, does Jesus repeatedly say in these verses that we must eat His flesh and drink His blood or we have no life in us? Why does Christ say that His flesh is food indeed, and His blood is drink indeed, if His flesh and blood really aren’t food and drink indeed? This teaching of Jesus on the Eucharist is the most profound in all of Scripture, and these verses are very problematic to the Protestant contention that the bread and wine of the Mass are just symbols.

When John 6 is prayerfully read, we see how Jesus gradually teaches the faithful about the life-giving bread from heaven that He will give to the world (through the multiplication of the loaves, the reference to the raining manna given to the Israelites, and finally to the bread that Jesus will give which is His flesh). When the Jews question Jesus about how he could possibly give them His flesh to eat, Jesus becomes more literal in His explanation. As we learned in the link on The Eucharist, Jesus says several times that we must eat (in Greek, “phago”) His flesh to gain eternal life (which literally means “to chew”).

When the Jews further question the strangeness of His teaching, Jesus uses an even more literal verb (in Greek, “trogo”) to describe how we must eat His flesh to have eternal life (which literally means “to gnaw or crunch”). The word “trogo” is only used two other times in the New Testament (Matt. 24:38; John 13:18) and it is always used literally (physically eating). Protestants are unable to provide a single example of where “trogo” is ever used in a symbolic sense. To drive His point home, Jesus says that His flesh is real food indeed, and His blood is real drink indeed (Jesus says nothing about the bread being a symbol of His body and blood).

What is perhaps most compelling about the foregoing passages is what happens at the end of Jesus’ discourse. We know that the Jews understood Jesus as speaking literally. This is demonstrated by their question, “How can this man give us His flesh to eat?” They could not conceive of why consuming Jesus’ flesh was life-giving and how they could possibly do such a thing. We also know that Jesus responds to their question by being even more literal about eating His flesh and drinking His blood. But we learn at the end of Jesus’ discourse that many of His followers, because of the difficulty of His teaching, decided to no longer follow Him – and Jesus let them go. Then He turned to His apostles and asked them, “Will you also go away?”

Would Jesus, the Incarnate Word of God who became man to save humanity, allow his followers to leave Him if they misunderstood His teaching? Of course not, especially when the teaching regarded how they were to obtain eternal life which was at the heart of Jesus’ mission. Jesus always explained the meaning of His teachings to His disciples. Mark 4:34. Jesus did not say, “Hey, guys, come back here, you got it all wrong.” He didn’t do this because they did not have it all wrong. They understood correctly – we must eat Jesus’ flesh and drink His blood, or we have no life within us. The Protestant who contends that the Catholic offering of bread and wine in the Mass is just a symbol (and does not miraculously become the body and blood of Christ through the actions of the priest acting “in persona Christi”) must address John 6:53-58, 66-67 – why Jesus used the words He did, and why Jesus allowed His followers to leave Him if they understood Him correctly (which is the only time in Scripture where Christ allows His disciples to leave Him based upon a doctrinal teaching).

When we meditate upon this mystery with an open mind and heart, we come to believe and know that the Eucharist is the way the Father gives us His Son in the eternal covenant of love by the power of the Holy Spirit. The Eucharist is an extension of the Incarnation. If we can believe in the Incarnation (that God become a little baby), than believing that God makes Himself substantially present under the appearance of bread and wine is easy. The Church has thus taught for 2,000 years that the Eucharist is the source and summit of the Christian faith – the consummation of the sacrificed Paschal lamb, by which we are restored to God and share in His divine life. Thus, Saint Paul says, “our Paschal lamb has been sacrificed; therefore, let us celebrate the feast.” 1 Corinthians 5:7-8.

By John Salza, from ScriptureCatholic.com

What to do with Failure

by Chris Findley

I don’t like to fail. I don’t like to fall. I’m embarrassed when I stumble and blush when I put my foot in my mouth (which happens more than I like to admit). As much as I don’t like to fail there is something I despise even more, admitting it. But once I admit it, I have yet another problem: getting over it. I hold my failure over my head and bash myself mercilessly. I am a pro at punishing myself. Now, if you’re already calling me “neurotic” or “guilt ridden” I suppose you might have a case. But my work in the church has convinced me of one thing: I’m not alone. How often have you said:

“I can’t believe I did that, again!”

“Why did I say that?”

“Why can’t I get this right?”

“Is there a reason I can’t break this habit?”

“Does God still forgive me?”

Many people ask these questions quite often. By and large I believe that we don’t know what to do with our failure, with our sin. If we are Catholic, confession should be the definitive answer. But all too often it is not. Not because God hasn’t forgiven us, He promised that. So often our problem is accepting the forgiveness He offers. How can we move past our sin and accept the forgiveness of God?

Insight 1: Your Sin Doesn’t Surprise God

Think about it for a moment. Do you really think God is caught off guard by what you did? Do you think God says, “My, my, I can’t believe that s/he has done that? What will they think of next?”

Consider this: Would he have given us confession if he didn’t think we needed it?

Confession was given to us as a gift by our God who knew that we would fall short. He knew that we would need a way to deal with our failings, our tendency to do our own thing and not His. We are invited (and yes, in many cases required) to partake of this grace-giving sacrament precisely because we sin. Our Lord didn’t institute this sacrament “in case” we needed it, but because he knew we needed it. No. Breathe a breath of thanksgiving because our failings do not catch him off-guard. He has anticipated them.

Insight 2: Awareness of Sin is the first step to reconciliation

Be glad that you are aware of sin in your life. Why? Because there is something worse: being ignorant of it. Because you are aware of it, you are sensitive to the voice of your conscience and, more importantly, the voice of God. There is obviously part of you that wants to please God. Being aware of our sin is the first step to coming home. This is borne out in the story of the Prodigal Son. In Luke 15:18-19 we hear the Prodigal son’s recognition of this, “I shall get up and go to my father and I shall say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son; treat me as you would treat one of your hired workers.”‘ This is the Prodigal’s first step on his journey home.

Insight 3: God never rejects the repentant sinner

When you seek God’s forgiveness he will not scoff or turn away. We may recoil (rightly to be sure) at our actions, but when we seek God he does not recoil at us. Again, consider the Prodigal son. He doesn’t even make it home before his Father runs out to offer welcome and forgiveness. The Prodigal never makes if fully through his rehearsed speech before his Father embraces him and begins making plans for his party. “While he was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him, and was filled with compassion. He ran to his son, embraced him and kissed him.” (Luke 15:20, NAB) Let this image inform your soul as to how God views his repentant children. Every time we make a good confession, we are embraced by God who rejoices at “one sinner who repents.” (Luke 15:10)

Insight 4: To reject our own forgiveness is not humility but narcissism

Having been forgiven and embraced by God, we do not need to further punish ourselves for our sin. When we do this we retreat into ourselves, often falling into despair. We become so concerned with our sin, our failure, that we quit looking toward Christ and continue looking inward. This further alienates us from God, and, this is key, it continues to give the sin (already forgiven) power over us! We must reject this tendency and fully and freely remind ourselves that God’s power and grace is far stronger than whatever it is that we have done. We must take courage and trust in God’s power and promise and the absolution we have received.

Insight 5: Begin Again

Blessed Josemaria Escriva wrote in his phenomenal work, The Way, “Another fall…and what a fall! Despair? No! Humble yourself and through Mary, your mother, have recourse to the merciful love of Jesus…lift up your heart! And now, begin again.” (The Way, #711) Having been forgiven, our faithful response to God is to begin again. In fact our acceptance of God’s forgiveness is how we show our love and thankfulness to God. In starting over we can not only be thankful for God’s mercy and love but also for the way that our temptations and sin actually become occassions that call us to seek God and be strengthened in our faith. We learn how to resist, how to flee temptation but we also learn how great God’s forgiveness truly is. With hope and even joy, we can begin again. That is good news!

We sin. We all fail. We all stumble in our walk with Christ. This isn’t news to God who gave us the sacrament of confession. We should be glad for our awareness of sin and thankful that our repentant hearts are never shunned by God, but welcomed home. We must be careful not to be too inward looking and understand that the most faithful response to God’s mercy is our acceptance of it. Joyfully, we are actually called to begin again, hopefully wiser and more humble in our faith.

Confession is good for the soul. We are all prodigals. I am thankful that as messed up as I am, the Father is already running down the road to meet me. He’s doing the same for you.

But do they really believe it?

I’ve Been Saying This For Years

by Jimmy Akin (Original Link >>>)

It’s shocking!

You know how only a third of Catholics believe in the Real Presence?

Well, they don’t.

By which I mean: It isn’t true that only a third of Catholics believe in the Real Presence.

That’s a myth that got created due to thee things: (1) a pollster using a poorly worded questions that didn’t correspond to Catholic teaching, meaning that Catholics responding to the question weren’t sure how to answer it in a way that reflected their faith, and so the pro-Real Presence vote got split among several different categories. (2) Those reading the results of the poll didn’t pay careful attention to how the question was worded and what the implications were for how the different categories had to be pieced back together to get an accurate indication of belief in the Real Presence. (3) The general desire to lament how bad things are these days led people to read the results in terms of a staggering crisis of faith.

And so for years the idea has been floating around out there that only a small number of Catholics actually believe in the Real Presence, despite the fact that it isn’t true.

Now, I’m happy to concede that not enough Catholics believe in the Real Presence. 100% of them should. I’m also happy to concede that not enough Catholics understand the Real Presence in the manner articulated by the Church (transubstantiaion). Some have views that are fuzzy on that point, and bad catechesis is a key factor in that.

But the numbers are nowhere near as bleak as people make out.

And now there’s a new study (by the National Catholic Reporter folks, of all people), that backs this up. Fr. Richard John Neuhaus writes:

81 percent say that “belief that Jesus is really present in the Eucharist” is essential in their understanding of the Catholic faith. Keep in mind that the survey is of a cross section of the 65 million Catholics in the U.S. (although Latinos are greatly underrepresented). Among the more highly committed Catholics, it is reasonable to assume that belief in the Real Presence is considerably higher than 81 percent. This is worth keeping in mind because some years ago a clumsily worded question in a survey came up with the conclusion that only one third of Catholics believed in the Real Presence, and that “finding” still crops up in discussions on the state of Catholicism. Among active Catholics, belief in the Real Presence, as also in the Incarnation, the Virgin Birth, and the Resurrection of Jesus, edges up toward unanimity.

Because its True

by Mark Shea, www.mark-shea.com  

Not infrequently, Catholics are asked to give reasons for why they are Catholic. This, in itself, is not a bad thing. After all, St. Peter himself says “Always be prepared to make a defense to any one who calls you to account for the hope that is in you” (1 Peter 3:15). What is often troubling, however, is the account we give. I wish I had a nickel for every time I heard Catholics “make defenses” in this way:

“I’m Catholic because it suits my personal life style. Being a Catholic just feels right to me. Plus, the Catholic Faith can help us weather the many changes of a hectic and uncertain world. Its family values are solid, it has a good school system, and it strikes a good balance between being too conservative and too liberal. I just like the special feeling I get at Christmas and Easter. Ritual and a touch of mysticism are important to psychological health.”

And so on and so on. In his wonderful book, The Screwtape Letters, C. S. Lewis offers us commentary on the human condition via His Abysmal Under Secretary Screwtape, a senior devil in the lowerarchy of Hell. Screwtape waxes enthusiastic about these sorts of “defenses of the Faith” because they are, in the end, useful to his nefarious purposes. Why is he so fond of them? Because they encourage the “hairless bipeds” (that’d be us) to embrace Christ and his church for shaky (and therefore easy to destroy) reasons. In the words of Screwtape, the goal of the demonic tempter, if his human “patient” shows an interest in “religion”, is to derail that patient into believing the Faith “not because it’s true, but for some other reason. That’s the game.”

If we embrace such a temptation, we will be Catholic for as long as we have “special feelings” at Christmas and Easter, or as long as the school system remains good, or as long as the Faith “suits my personal life style” or political leanings, or whatever. The moment these things-or we-change and our tastes come into conflict with the Church’s teaching we will cease to be Catholic. Or rather, we will begin to show that we never really were.

To turn Screwtape’s wisdom on its head, the remedy to this problem is to find out whether the Faith is true and, if so, believe it for that reason primarily. Why do I think this? Because, as a convert, this was precisely what I was, in honesty, compelled to do when confronted with the prospect of becoming a Catholic.

As a non-denominational Evangelical, my own theology tended to look askance at, for instance, the Catholic view of the Eucharist. There were various reasons I was taught to reject the idea of the Real Presence in the Eucharist. It was, I was led to believe, a re-sacrifice of Christ. It was a man-made ritual, I thought. It was an obstacle to grace, I imagined. It was idolatrous, I feared. In a word, I believed Catholic teaching to be beautiful, but false.

My own church, you see, had no sacraments, not even baptism or the grape-juice-and-crackers communion service. It was a charismatic church, with an enormous emphasis on the power of the Spirit. As such, we had decided that what really mattered was not physical communion but our communion with one another. The only “body of Christ” that mattered in my church’s view was the members of the church sitting next to us in the pews. It was your fellow Christian who was the true and only tabernacle and it was to “Christ in him, the hope of glory” that we should direct our reverence.

It was a good theory, but it turned out not to work as planned. Experience was to show that a group of people who try to regard themselves as a substitute for the Eucharist is a group of people doomed to be ingrown and stagnant. Life became progressively more stifling, both intellectually and spiritually. Meanwhile, I would read the (safely non-Catholic) C. S. Lewis talking about his faith in the Eucharist and it was increasingly attractive. I came to the dim realization that a healthy church was one whose members focus, not on each other, but on some third thing exterior to them all-a third thing like Eucharist, for instance. I remember, as the attraction grew, holding a sort of make-believe communion ritual with my lunch bread on several occasions. I heard a priest once talk about a woman who came into his parish asking to become Catholic. When he asked her why she wished to do so, her reply was simplicity itself: “You know that little piece of bread you give out at the end of your service?” she asked. “Yes,” said the priest. “I want that,” she said artlessly.

I could relate. But I could not, merely on the strength of that, convert. Why? For the reasons given above: as attractive, practical to church order, or comforting as the Eucharist might appear to be, I could not-must not-tell a lie. Beauty was not enough. As St. Paul said, “Even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light” (2 Cor. 11:14). If I did not believe the Eucharist, beautiful as it was, was the body and blood of Christ, then I should not receive it. The Catholic Church, as well as my conscience, demanded as much.

So I did not. But neither did I assume that I knew everything. Therefore, I reexamined my Protestant assumptions about the Eucharist to find out if they were true. I discovered they were not.

Where I had imagined the Eucharist to be a re-sacrifice of Christ (in supposed contradiction to Hebrews 9:26 which says Jesus “has appeared once for all at the end of the age to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself”) I discovered the reality that the mass is not as re-sacrifice, but our present participation in the one and only sacrifice that has ever been or ever will be. Where I had imagined the Real Presence was cooked up by some 8th century Roman manufacturer of man-made doctrines, I discovered it in St. Paul who said, “The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ?” (1 Cor. 11: 16). Where I had imagined the Eucharist as an obstacle to grace, I discovered it to be a means of grace (for it no more “stood between” me and God than my Bible did). And where I had imagined adoration of the Blessed Sacrament to be idolatry, I discovered this simple but salient truth: worship of the Eucharist is only idolatrous if the Eucharist is not Jesus Christ. If the Eucharist is Jesus, then it is a sin not to worship it.

And the more I read Scripture and church history, the more convinced I became that it was. For Jesus wasn’t kidding around when he said, “This is my body. This is my blood.” Yes, the Sacrament is symbolic. Even the Catholic Church says so. My mistake, as an Evangelical, was to try to insist that it was only symbolic. But from Jesus (who said, “This bread is my flesh which I will give for the life of the world” (John 6:51)) to Paul (who warned the Corinthians that in receiving Eucharist unworthily they would be “sinning against the body and blood of the Lord” (1 Cor. 11:27)) to a host of Fathers, saints, martyrs, virgins, theologians, and doctors of the church, the resounding cry was unanimous: Eucharist was not only symbolic. It was, in the words of St. Ignatius of Antioch (a man who heard St. John the Apostle with his own ears), “the flesh of our Savior, Jesus Christ” (Epistle to the Smyrnaeans). This was why St. John Chrysostom, echoing the unanimous Faith of the first thousand years of the Church, declared of Eucharist: “When you see it exposed, say to yourself: Thanks to this body, I am no longer dust and ashes, I am no more captive but a free man.” Indeed, he boldly states, “This is that body which was once covered with blood, pierced by a lance, from which issued saving fountains upon the world, one of blood and the other of water” (Commentary on Corinthians).

In short, I discovered it was my Evangelical “mere symbolism” approach that was the new kid on the block. It was the Catholic picture that was the clear outgrowth of the biblical and patristic data. The Eucharist really was the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. It was not only beautiful, it was true and rooted as deeply in the apostolic teaching as the Resurrection. And that was why I came to believe in it and in the rest of the teaching of the Church. Beauty, practicality, comfort, happiness and the rest were glad bonuses, to be sure. But it was truth that won me.

Original Link>>>

Confession Comeback

By Father John Flynn, L.C.

ROME, OCT. 8, 2007 (Zenit.org).- Confession is undergoing a revival of sorts after a long period of neglect. There has been a spate of recent press articles on the sacrament of confession, or reconciliation, as it is often termed.

On Sept. 21 the Wall Street Journal reported that more than 5,000 people turned up at a Reconciliation Weekend held in March in the Diocese of Orlando, Florida.

A column dated March this year by Bishop Thomas Wenski, posted on the Orlando Diocese’s Web page, spoke about the need for confession. The loss of the sense of sin was termed “the spiritual crisis of our age,” he said.

Last year, the bishop noted, he wrote to the priests of his diocese, asking them to make more time to hear confessions. This year he explained that a number of parishes were going to organize a special Reconciliation Weekend, just prior to Holy Week.

Meanwhile, the Wall Street Journal article explained that interest in confession is rising among some Protestant denominations. This summer, a North American branch of the Lutherans passed a resolution at a meeting supporting the rite of confession, after more than a century of neglect.

Online disclosure

Some of the Protestant versions of confession being popularized are, however, notably different from the Catholic sacrament. The Wall Street Journal mentioned practices such as individuals coming clean in videos that are even posted on sites such as YouTube, for all to see.

Other initiatives include a confession Web site, set up by an evangelical congregation in Cooper City, Florida, which according to the Wall Street Journal has postings from 7,700 people who list their faults.

The rising interest in confession marks a turnaround, the article observed. A 2005 survey reported that only 26% of Catholics in the United States went to confession at least once a year, down from 74% in the early ’80s.

The revival in confession, particularly of the public kind, can take all sorts of forms, as is evidenced in a Reuters article from Sept. 27. The agency reported on a new Web site set up by a major publisher of romantic fiction, Harlequin Enterprises. People will be able to confess, anonymously, their sins online, with others being able to read their postings.

More news on varieties of confession came in a major feature article, published Aug. 31 by the Los Angeles Times. The paper gave details about a number of Web sites where confessions can be made. One of the sites even allows other persons to comment on and give advice to those who confess.

Turning on the light

The Catholic Church is also trying to promote interest in confession. This year some dioceses launched campaigns to encourage use of the sacrament in the period prior to Easter. In Washington, D.C., for example, all the 140 churches of the archdiocese opened for confession every Wednesday evening.

The effort was part of a campaign titled “The Light Is On for You.” Included in the campaign were radio and billboard ads, and a Web page set up with a variety of material encouraging participation in the sacrament. In addition, 100,000 printed guides in Spanish and English were distributed.

Washington Archbishop Donald Wuerl also penned a pastoral letter, “God’s Mercy and the Sacrament of Penance,” as part of the campaign.

“Despite our best intentions, each of us has experienced personal failure,” he noted in the introduction to the letter. We are aware, explained Archbishop Wuerl, “that a part of us is determined to do good while at the same time an element within us continually turns away from the good we know we can do.”

God does not leave us alone in this situation of our human weakness and the ever-present reality of sin, the letter added. “Jesus gives us newness of life in grace that begins to restore our relationship with God which will lead to full communion with God in glory.”

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from Zenit.org