Commentary on the Gospel of
Recently in a church I noticed that the resident religious community were all sitting as far removed from one another as the architecture and furniture allowed. Since then I’ve noticed it in many other places. We need space, it’s true; but if that’s the only thing we need, it’s the end of community. Children sit away from one another only when there has been a fight. But they soon make it up again. There must be something permanently wrong with adults who do it instinctively and always. The Eucharist is an assembly of the faithful. It brings us together, expressing our union in Christ and our eternal union with God. How can we say these things and still go on sitting far apart? I often think that the farther from the mouth, the more truthful our language. We tell lies with our mouth, we tell the truth with our feet.
The Eucharist is bodily: the truth stands out in it more clearly and powerfully than anywhere else—so powerfully that it is expected to affect our whole subsequent life. But what if it doesn’t affect us even while we are present at it? The feast of the Body and Blood of Christ is a day for meditating on the bodily truth—our own, and that of the Eucharist.