Today we celebrate the Feast of Corpus Christi – Latin words that literally translate as “Body of Christ”. This is a feast day in which we celebrate and give thanks for the gift of Holy Communion given by Jesus at the Last Supper and passed down to us through the apostles and those who came after them.

Jesus left us with his Word, and with the ritual of the Eucharist. The latter was a clear command to do what he had done at the Last Supper with his disciples. It is around the Eucharist and the Word of God that we as Anglicans form community and build church. There are different views about what the Eucharist means, whether it is a memorial or a sacred meal, how often it should be celebrated, who should preside, whether it is symbolic or the real presence of Jesus Christ.

Throughout my life, my understanding of the Eucharist has developed, and I have been introduced to different liturgies and practices. My belief is that the Eucharist is God’s banquet table, open to all without discrimination, and it is this belief that attracted me to the Anglican Church. The words that specifically drew me into the Anglican Church are “all are welcome and encouraged to come to the table.” This spirit of welcome and inclusiveness in the Anglican Church is as essential to my faith as the relationship between the Word of God and the Eucharist: “Heaven will be a banquet table. The Eucharist already is that table.” This question of who is welcome at the Eucharistic table is one of ongoing debate within the Anglican church. It is a sensitive issue and not everyone shares my position on inclusiveness.

As they are eating the traditional Passover food and drink, renewing the covenant God has made with Moses, Jesus makes a significant religious change in Passover theology.  Instead of renewing the old covenant, Jesus establishes a new covenant with his followers.  He transforms the Passover meal into the Lord’s Supper.  Jesus shows them a ritual they can re-enact again and again to reaffirm this new covenant.  It is intended to provide them with a continuous supply of food and drink for their spiritual health and growth.  It is a totally new kind of nourishment: food and drink for our hearts and our souls, bringing everlasting life.  It is the gift of God’s very own self, coming to us and never leaving us – with us always.  This is my body, this is my blood, my very own self given to you. There is a great mystery to this and our fidelity to it is transformational. In the words of St. Augustine “Behold who you are, become what you receive.”

To take this bread and this wine is to receive God into our lives and into our hearts, making us one with God and with each other. The family meal was an integral part of our home when I was growing up, particularly the evening meal and Sunday dinner. Family conversation would be about the events of the day. Sundays were more leisurely and usually included company. And then, there were the “special days,” the holy days and birthdays and anniversaries, when deserts were extra special and wine would flow, and family stories told. It is in a context like this, a meal with friends that Jesus gives the gift of himself.

In the homes of Peter and Jairus, Martha and Mary, Joanna and Susanna, Jesus was always the guest.  At the meal tables of the wealthy when he pled the cause of the poor, he was always the guest.  Upsetting polite company, befriending isolated people, welcoming the stranger, he was always the guest. But here, at this table – today – he is the host.

It seems to me to be quite intentional that the sacramental action that is so central to our lives as Christians is centred around a meal. Jesus left us with a ritual that we could go back to again and again: a ritual that includes food for the soul and the telling of stories that nourish our life as a community. It is the invitation to the great feast that is the foretaste of eternity, where all will be one and there will be no more separation, no more death or pain. In the words of my friend Rev. William Hann “If we understood what this meal represents, we would treat it like all great feasts and rush to claim our seat at the table. We would dance up the aisles, unable to contain our joy at being included in this gracious event. We would dance our way out of the church at the dismissal, too, consciously brimming with the life that has no end”

Jesus paints a totally different picture of God and God’s kingdom – a God who is welcoming, forgiving, loving – a God who is present, nearby, all around us.  In the Eucharist, God becomes totally immediate and accessible within our own bodies and minds.  God’s love becomes intimately available.  This is the mystery and the joy of the Eucharistic gift.

I’m not sure we can ever fully understand it. What is important is that we do what Jesus instructed us to do.  Theologian Ron Rolheiser puts it like this: “Jesus didn’t give a theological discourse on the Eucharist at the Last Supper. He simply gave us a ritual and asked us to celebrate it regularly, irrespective of our intellectual understanding of it. We aren’t asked to fully or even adequately understand the Eucharist. Our faith only asks that we are faithful in participating in it. We can truly know this mystery, even as we can’t fully understand it.”   Amen