To provide the best experiences, we use technologies like cookies to store and/or access device information. Consenting to these technologies will allow us to process data such as browsing behavior or unique IDs on this site. Not consenting or withdrawing consent, may adversely affect certain features and functions.
The technical storage or access is strictly necessary for the legitimate purpose of enabling the use of a specific service explicitly requested by the subscriber or user, or for the sole purpose of carrying out the transmission of a communication over an electronic communications network.
The technical storage or access is necessary for the legitimate purpose of storing preferences that are not requested by the subscriber or user.
The technical storage or access that is used exclusively for statistical purposes.
The technical storage or access that is used exclusively for anonymous statistical purposes. Without a subpoena, voluntary compliance on the part of your Internet Service Provider, or additional records from a third party, information stored or retrieved for this purpose alone cannot usually be used to identify you.
The technical storage or access is required to create user profiles to send advertising, or to track the user on a website or across several websites for similar marketing purposes.
Reflection on the Gospel – Sunday, June 22, 2025
Dear brothers and sisters, peace and all good.
In today’s Old Testament reading, we see a mysterious foreshadowing of the Eucharist. Genesis chapter 14 tells us that Abraham, the great father of the People, offered a tithe to a strange priest named Melchizedek. We know little about him, but enough to see him as an alternative priest: his temple was the universe; the gifts he offered were “bread” and “wine”; his origins were unknown; he had the power to bless—and he did bless Abraham. The great Patriarch gave him a tithe and recognized him as his Priest.
The early Christians quickly saw Melchizedek as a figure of Jesus. In fact, they realized that the Levitical priesthood, centered in the temple of Jerusalem and central to Israel’s religion, didn’t carry the same prophetic or messianic weight as Melchizedek’s priesthood. In this alternative priest, rituals, celebrations, and animal sacrifices fade into the background, and a surprising offering takes center stage: bread and wine. What was foreshadowed becomes reality in the Last Supper of Jesus with his disciples. There, the one “without genealogy,” the Son of God, offers Bread and Wine. The one who, in the religion of Israel, was merely a layman, now appears as the Great High Priest “according to the order of Melchizedek.” The Letter to the Hebrews interpreted this event beautifully and opened the door to give Christian worship and liturgy a new and deeper meaning.
Before giving his Body, Jesus at the Last Supper honored the bodies of his disciples by washing their feet and asking them to do the same for one another. Jesus was just as committed to offering his Body as he was to making mutual self-giving the norm among his followers—whom Paul would later call “the Body of Christ.” Before offering his poured-out Blood, Jesus poured purifying water over each disciple, though the most powerful source of purification was his Word: “You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you.” Then he poured the wine, as a sign and real presence of his shed Blood—making his disciples blood-relatives, bound in an unbreakable covenant.
At Jesus’ table, there is room for everyone. We cannot turn the Lord’s Table into a place of exclusion—a space where “the good ones” receive Communion while the rest simply watch. “Send the people away! Let them go find food and lodging!” the twelve apostles tell Jesus. He had just spoken to the crowd about the Kingdom of God and healed their sick. The apostles thought that was enough—Word and Charity. So they tried to force a kind of early dismissal: “Ite missa est.” But Jesus longed for more. He wanted hospitality to be taken to the limit. He challenged them with a bold command: “You give them something to eat!” Their response: “We don’t have enough for such a crowd!”
But for Jesus, nothing is impossible. The encounter must go on into the evening. It’s only a matter of lifting our eyes to Heaven and receiving the blessing of Abba, the Father. That blessing comes down upon the bread and the fish through the hands of Jesus. The way he does it reminds us of what he did at the Last Supper. From Jesus’ hands to the hands of the disciples. From the disciples’ hands to the hands of the people. “They all ate and were satisfied.” Jesus does not want a liturgy of the Word without Eucharist, nor a gathering without the fullness of hospitality.
Today is the Feast of Corpus Christi. Over the years, the Church has reflected deeply—very deeply—on the Eucharist. But we must ask ourselves: is anything really changing among us? Do we have a new vision, or are we just repeating old formulas?
Today is the day of Jesus’ covenant with us, his Church. Jesus comes from Heaven, from the realm of the Resurrection. He sits with us at the Table. He repeats the gestures of the Last Supper. He sums up before us the whole tapestry of his life. He didn’t ascend to Heaven never to return—he comes back at every Eucharistic celebration and reveals himself to us. What is placed on the Table is of the highest importance. Jesus places on the Table his Body and Blood, in their most perfect form. He offers his Body—given, loving without limits, drawing us into one, making us one. He offers his Blood—his Life, his immense Vitality. He wants to pour himself into us.
Today is the day of the Body and the Blood, the day when we all come together as the People, as the Community of the Covenant. There are many who are still searching for “the medicine of immortality.” May the Spirit allow them to discover the unimaginable power of attraction that is the Body and Blood of Jesus! And may we, who are privileged to meet the new Melchizedek every day, rediscover it too.
Your brother in faith,