Bethlehem means “House of Bread” in Hebrew, and “House of Flesh” in Arabic. And of course, “mangia” in Italian means “to eat.” The Child in the manger, Jesus Christ, whose Incarnation, Second Coming, and Real Presence among us we mark with Advent, and whom we celebrate at Christmas (Christ Mass) time in a special way, was born to become food.
By Chris Sparks
... I suddenly saw the Infant Jesus standing by my kneeler and holding on to it with His two little hands. Although He was but a little Child, my soul was filled with awe and fear, for I see in Him my Judge, my Lord, and my Creator, before whose holiness the Angels tremble. At the same time, my soul was flooded with such unspeakable love that I thought I would die under its influence (Diary of Saint Maria Faustina Kowalska, 566).
Advent is one long journey to the place depicted in every Nativity scene, the one set of religious statues Protestants seem to love. There’s something strangely significant about a Child in a manger, or the feed trough of an animal, where grain (such as wheat, for instance) would have been laid.
Many of our Christian brethren don’t see it; their continued separation from Rome depends on not seeing it, not seeing the intrinsic connection between Christian faith and Eucharistic celebration.
Bethlehem
Contemplate the scene with St. Faustina for a moment:
When I arrived at Midnight Mass, from the very beginning I steeped myself in deep recollection, during which time I saw the stable of Bethlehem filled with great radiance. The Blessed Virgin, all lost in the deepest of love, was wrapping Jesus in swaddling clothes, but Saint Joseph was still asleep. Only after the Mother of God put Jesus in the manger did the light of God awaken Joseph, who also prayed. But after a while, I was left alone with the Infant Jesus who stretched out His little hands to me, and I understood that I was to take Him in my arms. Jesus pressed His head against my heart and gave me to know, by His profound gaze, how good He found it to be next to my heart (Diary, 1442).
Do you see the connection to the priesthood and communion?
Perhaps it will become clearer if you know that Bethlehem means “House of Bread” in Hebrew, and “House of Flesh” in Arabic. And of course, “mangia” in Italian means “to eat.”
The Child in the manger, Jesus Christ, whose Incarnation, Second Coming, and Real Presence among us we mark with Advent, and whom we celebrate at Christmas (Christ Mass) time in a special way, was born to become food.
Cannibalism? Not!
Now that sounds scandalous. It always has. Jesus was abandoned by many of His disciples after His bread of life discourse:
On hearing it, many of his disciples said, “This is a hard teaching. Who can accept it?”
Aware that his disciples were grumbling about this, Jesus said to them, “Does this offend you? Then what if you see the Son of Man ascend to where he was before! The Spirit gives life; the flesh counts for nothing. The words I have spoken to you—they are full of the Spirit[e] and life. Yet there are some of you who do not believe.” For Jesus had known from the beginning which of them did not believe and who would betray him. He went on to say, “This is why I told you that no one can come to me unless the Father has enabled them.”
From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him (Jn 6:60-66).
Sacramental communion is not cannibalism. The members of the Mystical Body of Christ sharing in the Body and Blood of Christ the Head is rather like my pinky drawing nourishment from my flesh and blood. The sacramental reality is best explained by metaphor and analogy.
No matter what metaphor I use, though, it is still extraordinary to say Jesus was born to die, to become our heavenly food and spiritual drink, to feed us, to nourish us, to re-create us, to redeem, to sanctify. And yet it’s true: Jesus came in a particular way to bring to us, among many other extraordinary gifts, the gift of the Holy Eucharist.
Our greatest act of worship isn’t falling flat on our faces before Him, though He certainly does deserve that. Our greatest act of worship is eating God, receiving Him as He commands.
“Eat up!” our earthly parents command, out of love for us. Our Father who art in Heaven says the same thing.
Worship by feast
Our highest act of worship is giving up on self-sufficiency, giving up on living by our own strength, giving up on making ourselves gods, and allowing God to be God. That is to say, it’s in recognizing He is our Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer, and Sanctifier, and all of this comes prior to Him being Lawgiver. It’s greater than Him being Lawgiver. Many of the laws He gave us over the years were superseded by later codes or covenants. But His activity as Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier — these are titles for acts of God that no one else could do.
No one else is capable of being the Ground of Being, the Being Who is by nature, “I Am Who Am.” No one else is by nature perfectly pure, perfectly innocent, a font of innocence sufficient to make even sinners innocent. No one else is capable of making others to be like God by grace.
So our greatest act of worship is to receive what is given with thanks and praise, to receive with the preparation the Church rules we should make, doing the same sort of tidying and cleaning up the Temple of our body and soul for the Divine Guest as we would our homes before receiving more ordinary guests. Our greatest act of worship is to eat God; is to eat Thanksgiving; is to get out of God’s way, and follow in God’s way.
Communion with the Holy Father
So love God, and listen to Him. Consumer Him this Advent and at Christmas. Let the Child in the manger become your food, and His Blood, your drink, as Christ commanded. Great saints have been eyewitnesses to the spiritual reality of all this, outstanding among them St. Faustina. For instance:
Once when I went outside the convent to go to confession [St. Michael’s Church], I chanced upon my confessor [Father Sopocko] saying Mass just then. After a while, I saw the Child Jesus on the altar, joyfully and playfully holding out His hands to him. But a moment later the priest took the beautiful Child into his hands, broke Him up and ate Him alive (Diary, 312).
Love God, and consume Him, as He commands. This Advent, pray for Christian unity, for all to rediscover the graces and blessings of full, unimpaired communion among Christians gathered together in the worship and love of the life-giving food we were all meant to share: the divine Child in the manger.
Photo by Diocese of Spokane on Unsplash.
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