CHAPTER III: THE MINISTRY IN GALILEE
8. EVENTS PRECEDING THE INSTITUTION OF THE EUCHARIST
HOME | Contents | Chapter III: < PART VII | PART VIII: 105-106.The first multiplication of loaves | 107-108.Jesus walks on the waters across to the land of Gennesareth | 109-110.The bread of life. Some leave him.
The first multiplication of loaves (105-106).
Luke ix.10-17; Mark vi.30-44; Matt. xiv.13-21; John vi.1-15.
The disciples of the martyred prophet came to tell their master's friend
of the sad event and of their loving care for his burial.
Some of them, especially
such as were animated by John's spirit, thereupon followed the example their
former companions had set when they followed the Lamb of God, as their master
had saluted Jesus.
Neither St. Mark nor St. Luke tells us what effect the news
of the murder had upon Him.
St. Matthew seems to regard it as the reason why
He left Galilee [Matthew xiv.13.];
but as he troubles little about chronology and still less
about establishing any causal sequence between the incidents he relates,
we
cannot conclude that Jesus departed immediately after the murder,
or that there
was any very precise connection in time between the one event and the other.
A certain time must have elapsed between John's death
and the growth of those
uneasy fears
which made Herod see the phantom of his headless victim rise in
his imagination
when people began to tell him about Jesus.
It was not until
his return from Machaerus,
when he began to wonder whether Jesus too was a
prophet who would stand in his path,
that his suspicions
became dangerous.
As a matter of fact Jesus had no intention of assuming the
role of prophet and avenger of wrong.
He was no less ready than John to offer
His life in sacrifice,
but He knew that this was to be at Jerusalem. [Luke
xiii.33.]
Consequently
He avoided coming into conflict with Herod,
who moreover had already been
sufficiently warned about his wickedness.
Further, His mission was greater
than that of a prophet.
Not that it was to have more outward splendour,
but
that a prophet, chosen to act from time to time as the instrument of the
divine will,
must be manifested by his austerity of life and burning zeal
if he was to be able to rebuke kings.
The mission of Jesus was higher and
of a more permanent character.
As He had come to found a society that was
to be open to all men, Jesus ate and drank like everyone else.
This does
not mean that He forbade asceticism, but He did not make a law of it.
Nor
did He wish His followers to think themselves obliged to admonish those who
were entrusted with an authority that really comes from God:
that was no
longer the business of private persons moved by a personal inspiration from
above, but of lawfully constituted spiritual authority.
Lastly, Jesus had another reason for withdrawing.
His Apostles had returned
from their mission and they needed rest. [Mark vi.31.]
In solitude with Him they would recover
their vigour.
Doubtless they had much to tell Him and still more to learn from
Him;
in Galilee, where the people flocked after Him in such numbers,
it was
impossible for Master and disciples to converse together in peace.
Jesus therefore
retired with His disciples by boat and took the direction of Bethsaida in order
to come to a desert place.
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At Bethsaida they were in the territory of the
tetrarch Philip, who had much improved the city, possibly by rebuilding it
altogether further north at the modern et-Tell, and had given it the
name Julias in honour of that woman of sorry fame, Julia, the daughter of Augustus.
[It is merely to harmonize biblical texts more easily, and
without any need at all, that some have imagined another Bethsaida west of
the Jordan.]
The
ruins of the former fishing village are probably represented by el-Araj near
the spot where the Jordan enters the lake.
South-east of this place a great
plain stretches away to the hills.
It might be described as a desert, particularly
in comparison with the plain of Genesareth which was amazingly fertile.
But
like
the desert of Judah both plain and hills are green in the spring;
so that when
the first three evangelists speak of the green grass they are in perfect
agreement with St. John, who also speaks of the grass and the approach of
the paschal feast, which was the feast of the spring. [John
vi.10 and 4.]
As the little band crossed the lake by boat they should have arrived before
anyone coming by land.
But their intention had been guessed, and the people
of the eastern shore were already there, soon joined by those from Capharnaum;
so that when Jesus landed, the boat having perhaps been delayed by the dead
calm and oppressive heat of early April which makes rowing so exhausting, He
found Himself surrounded by a large crowd.
We cannot but admire the simplicity
of the evangelists:
they are in no way disconcerted by this apparent disappointment.
On the contrary they emphasize the fact that Jesus, wanting to be left alone,
is besieged by a great multitude.
But still more admirable is His kindness:
He does not turn elsewhere to seek
solitude,
but is moved with compassion for these sheep without a shepherd.
At once He begins to teach them,
and at some length, so that one would think
that He was forgetting the hour.
The disciples note with anxiety that the day
is drawing to a close.
It is all very well to talk about the kingdom of God,
but after all there are the needs of life to be thought of.
It is about time
for Jesus to end His sermon.
They do not tell Him so plainly, but ask Him to
send all these people away in order that they may procure some food for themselves
in the neighbouring villages and hamlets.
Thereupon He replies to His disciples,
whom He leaves to look after the material needs of His little band,
by giving
them the following command which is intended to put them to the test:
'Give you them to eat.'
It was a thing easily said, but, as Philip observed, two
hundred pence 'would not be enough to enable them to do it;
[About £7, but worth much more.]
and had they
got so much?
They were good fellows, these friends of Our Lord.
Each one wants to put in
his word and make himself useful.
Andrew, Peter's brother, has seen a young
boy with five barley loaves and two fishes:
a sensible young hawker who has
brought his wares with the certainty of being able to dispose of them at a
profit.
But Andrew's suggestion is tantamount to an admission that the disciples
have no
supplies of their own.
Then Jesus says:
'Make them sit down on the grass that they may eat.'
By this time the disciples were used to handling crowds,
and they arranged the people in groups so that they presented the appearance
of garden beds [Mark vi.40, πρασιαί.]spread over the flower-studded grass.
[In the plain south of Gaza we have picked anemones, periwinkles,
and even tulips, and these flowers are just as abundant on the shores of the
lake of Galilee.]
The number was about
five thousand.
Then solemnly -
for all the evangelists have observed that He
prayed -
Jesus raised His eyes to heaven, pronounced the blessing,
and broke
the loaves which He gave to His disciples to be distributed among the people;
likewise with the fishes.
All ate their fill.
Then Jesus commanded that they
should gather up what was left over so that nothing might be wasted.
Some Jews
had the custom of showing still greater carefulness about the scraps,
and would
gather up even the crumbs that had fallen from the table.
It was plainly Our Lord's intention to give this improvised repast,
which
might have been taken standing,
the character of a proper meal.
The guests
take their places on the grass, but in a regular order.
The master of the house
Himself breaks the bread while pronouncing a blessing, according to the proper
custom,
and the remnants are gathered up as if the meal had taken place in
a dining-room.
The Pasch was near at hand;
at the next Pasch after that Jesus
was to distribute His Body to the Apostles under the form of bread.
It would
be untrue to say that the Sacrament of the Eucharist was instituted that day
for the benefit of a whole multitude;
but it was already one of the preliminaries
of that sacrament, given by the Master for His followers to think about.
Hence
the prayer He offers up, which the rabbinical writings simply call a blessing,
St. John calls it a thanksgiving, eucharist.
It is as a symbol that this scene
has its full significance.
Amazing as it is in itself, it is still more amazing
as a presentiment of the future,
and it is in this latter character especially
that it appeals to our minds and hearts
as an outward sign pointing towards
a spiritual reality
which is not merely of higher order than the miracle,
but
belonging to a different order altogether.
It is a fact that Catholics the whole world over receive, under the same form
of bread,
that which they believe to be
the one Body of Jesus Christ.
Some receive unworthily, some out of a motive
of vanity, and still more from routine;
but countless numbers really find therein the food of their souls,
along with
a more urgent call to serve God and a fresh impulse to love Him better.
That
this stupendous thing should have been typified by a miraculous multiplication
of bread seems reasonable;
that this miracle should have blossomed forth into
such fruits of salvation,
of itself bestows on the miracle an aspect of probability.
The harmony between the type and the reality begets conviction.
Moreover, the
miracle itself was at once so incomprehensible and so public that it was the
cause of tremendous enthusiasm.
We learn this from St. John alone, but it is
the key to the whole situation.
No mention of the word Messiah is made as yet,
for Jesus has not manifested Himself as a king.
But beyond doubt He must be
the great prophet whom men awaited,
for no prophet had ever done anything so
divine on Israel's behalf.
And this prophet would become the Messiah if He
were crowned king.
He was already king, and it only needed that He should be
acknowledged as such in order that He might begin to act as king. They therefore
sought to compel Him to assume this new role;
but He was not of their mind.
top
Jesus walks on the waters across to the land of Gennesareth (107-108).
Mark vi.45-56; Matt. xiv.22-36; John vi.16-21.
After the multiplication of bread we are told immediately by Mark that Jesus
made His Apostles board their boat and set out without Him.
Why did He send
them away alone?
Were they not right in showing reluctance?
We are inclined
to think so from what St. John tells us about the dispositions of the crowd.
Jesus was still, though in His quiet manner, combatting their false conception
of the kingdom of God
which made them look for a temporal king,
a king who
would be like other kings
except chiefly for the fact that He would be armed
with the power of God.
Unless He succeeded in calming this tumult that had
arisen among them in consequence of His miracle,
revolution would be on the
way,
their error would only be strengthened,
His real mission misunderstood.
Crowds are fickle.
The danger was foreseen,
but if it was instantly averted
the storm that had
gathered so quickly would as quickly disperse.
However it was of great importance
that the disciples should be sheltered from the contagious enthusiasm which
had seized the crowd.
They must go away.
But had Jesus gone with them, the
most unruly spirits in the crowd would have laid hold of all the available
boats and followed.
He therefore gave His disciples strict orders to cross
to the other shore opposite Bethsaida,
that is to a place in the neighbourhood
of Capharnaum.
[This has always been translated 'towards Bethsaida' (Mark
vi.43),
and in consequence it has been assumed that there were two towns of
that name.
But we think that πρὸς can mean 'opposite,' especially with πέραν.]
He would rejoin them later.
Thereupon He went away from them.
He did not intend to harangue the crowd and ask them to disperse, for the speeches
of an unwilling candidate only have the effect of making his supporters more
determined still.
The simplest course was to disappear altogether.
This would
be followed by a certain amount of fruitless excitement on the part of the
crowd, but night would soon come and everyone would look for shelter.
Jesus
therefore went off alone to pray on the hill-side.
The disciples, left to themselves,
still waited.
It was already dusk, but Jesus did not return.
At last they decided
to start.
It often happens in Palestine during the spring that after a day of sirocco,
a violent wind rises in the south-west.
On this occasion such a wind caught
the disciples who were rowing their hardest.
The struggle went on a long time
and the boat made no progress.
It was nearly three o'clock in the morning when
from a distance Jesus saw them utterly exhausted.
It was from a feeling of
compassion, surely, that He went to them, walking on the water.
Yet, in order
to try them, He made as if to pass them by.
From the boat He looked like a
phantom, and seeing Him, they were afraid and cried out.
Whereupon Jesus said:
'Courage! It is I. Fear not.'
Peter, impressionable as ever, ever quick to come forward and feeling confident of his courage, answered:
'Lord, if it be Thou, bid me come to Thee upon the waters.'
At the word: 'Come!' he springs towards his Master.
But the wind redoubles its force,
and Peter trembles and begins to sink.
'Save me,' he cries out,
and Jesus taking his hand brings him back to the boat.
The wind drops, and soon they reach the shore which could not have been very far distant.
[According to John vi.19, they had already gone twenty-five or thirty furlongs.
The lake is more than fifty-four furlongs wide, at its greatest width, but much less at the north.]
Some of them had already fallen at the feet of Jesus:
'Indeed Thou art the Son of God.'
But, astonished as the disciples were at all these marvels, they were not
yet fully enlightened.
They had themselves worked miracles in His name;
they
had acted as His instruments in the multiplication of the loaves;
they had
seen Him walk on the water.
He had, then, complete power over nature.
But what
was all this leading up to, seeing that He would not let the people make Him
king?
He demanded of them an obedience for which they could not see the reason;
where
then was He leading them?
St. Mark tells us that they were more than ever
astonished within themselves.
A critical hour was approaching for them.
In the meantime some fishermen had noticed Jesus approaching the western shore
of the lake with His disciples.
The people were still full of excitement after
the event of the previous day;
confidence in His miraculous power had increased.
From all sides the sick were brought to Him and He healed them.
To judge by
St. Matthew's account this may have occurred during that morning;
according
to St. Mark, however, the time was much longer,
extending over the journey
Jesus undertook immediately after the falling away of the Galilaeans.
[Mark
vi.53-56.]
In spite
of their abandonment of Him, there remained always among the crowd some who
were favourable to Jesus;
for He was always willing to heal the sick, and
that alone was enough to make them follow Him.
top
The bread of life; some leave Him (109-110).
Meanwhile those who had stayed on the other side of the lake had realized
that the disciples had taken the only boat left on the shore, and had gone
without their Master.
They must have looked for Him on the plain and in the
hills;
but He was nowhere to be found.
Having spent the
night -
doubtless a disturbed one owing to the storm -
as best they could,
those who were the keenest to follow Him,
especially those from Capharnaum,
[John still speaks of the crowd, for he does not vary his
style;
but evidently only the principal moving spirits persisted in following Jesus.]
were under the necessity of crossing over by the bridge at Bethsaida;
and
now there was none of that joyous enthusiasm of yesterday which had made them
ready for anything.
They were therefore very well pleased when they saw several
boats come in from Tiberias,
and they immediately took advantage of them
to cross to the western shore.
[Owing to the winds, boats never remain for the night on
the eastern shore.
Boats leaving Tiberias at night always come in again that evening.
Observation of these facts coincides exactly with what is related by St. John,
though it has been asserted that this is merely a lucky accident.]
More inflamed than ever, though somewhat
annoyed by the disappearance of Jesus, they did not abandon their design
and persisted in seeking Him to find out the explanation.
Their first word is the rather abrupt question:
'Rabbi, when earnest Thou hither?'
Here begins one of His instructions that
is of the deepest significance.
Despite interruptions, contradictions and
murmurings, it continues without wavering like a boat tossed about yet carried
on by the ceaseless waves.
These interruptions, which break the evenness of a conference
carried on in dialogue form, have often concealed the unity of its teaching
from superficial readers.
Others have criticized the lesson as too mystical
in character, too remote from the homely and simple style of Jesus as portrayed
in the Synoptic Gospels.
In reality it is the subject that is mystical and
sublime;
but it was suggested by the occasion,
and it is treated in such a
way as to be understood -
so far as that was possible -
by an ordinary Jewish
audience.
It starts from bread, which Jesus had recently distributed with such liberality,
and which serves as the symbol of His teaching.
He declares that His mission
is to give the bread of life:
in other words, that He is the revealer sent
by God to lead those who believe in Him to eternal life.
And as the dialogue
leads to a point where it becomes necessary to admit that the bread which He
will give comes down from heaven, Jesus declares that He Himself is this life-giving
bread, and that He is invested with the power of restoring the dead to life.
But how does He give this life to the world?
Is it by the immolation of His
flesh?
If so,
then men cannot have access to that life without partaking of His immolated
flesh;
whence the necessity of eating His flesh and drinking His blood,
that in Him they may have the life of the spirit which will blossom out into
eternal life and the resurrection.
The supernatural logic of this teaching is faultless;
but was it suited to
the occasion after barely a year's preaching of the Gospel?
In answer to this
we may say to begin with that it grows out of the incident which had impressed
the crowd so vividly.
It was the multiplication of the loaves that provided
the subject, or at any rate the symbol.
Jesus gives the true bread,
and He
is that true bread.
But should He not have spoken of the reality corresponding
to that symbol straightforwardly and clearly?
Although St. John has not reproduced the earlier narratives of the Synoptic
Gospels,
yet he had them in front of him.
He joins the Synoptists, however,
in relating the multiplication of the loaves,
precisely at the point where
it was necessary for him to make the crisis that then arose perfectly clear.
Let us recall what we have already learnt from the events which have led
up to this point.
Jesus had first preached repentance in view of the advent
of the kingdom of God.
He had worked miracles,
several of them having been
performed in order to demonstrate, besides His power and goodness,
the authority
He had to forgive sin and to decide how the Sabbath ought to be kept.
Next
He had shown Himself as a lawgiver with the right to bring the Law of Moses
itself to its perfection.
On the occasion of the Baptist's message,
He had
clearly shown how superior was the new order He was founding to the old order
of the Law and Prophets.
By that time men must have begun to ask themselves
whether He was not claiming to be the Messiah establishing the kingdom of God.
But of what was that kingdom to consist?
For the conception of the kingdom
of God must govern the conception of the Messiah.
Jesus therefore sought gently
to correct the popular ideals,
raising the thoughts of the people above earthly
cares
and turning their minds to the ideals
of righteousness, purity, charity,
and forgiveness;
at the same time He gave them a glimpse
of how the divine
power working among men
was to have a long development,
nevertheless with a
view to that eternal life which is to be in the kingdom of God.
And thus He prepared
their hearts to understand that the Messiah's
mission was concerned only with the human soul and its destinies.
But all to
no avail.
Political designs;
material desires;
longings for revenge;
all
that perversity of the natural man which makes him lay hold of God's promise
as a powerful instrument for his own use and at the same time as a specious
excuse to cloak his base desires;
even in the better sort a zeal gone astray
owing to ignorance of the true ways of God:
all this confused medley was
seething in Israel and was about to boil over.
They wanted a king,
and they
wanted to compel Jesus to become the Messiah of their dreams.
Was it not high time - for His time was limited - that Jesus told them openly
what He was,
what God had charged Him to do,
what was their duty towards Him
who alone could save them?
Yes,
He was to save them,
not from their political
enemies,
but from sin.
He was to give them life,
not a life of abundance consisting
of corn and wine and oil,
but a spiritual life which was the first fruits of
eternal life.
His departure to the hills had been a critical moment;
there
was a danger that they might misunderstand altogether,
with the result that
his mission in Galilee would end in failure.
But it had to come to that when
all was said and done.
It is not surprising that St. John has related this
catastrophe,
but it would be surprising if the Synoptists had passed it over
in silence.
They have not done so,
and here again fundamentally there is agreement,
though the Synoptists have expressed the matter in a different fashion,
under
the form of the misunderstanding which followed the exposition of the parables.
But this was only the first stage of the rupture,
which is completed in the
Synoptic Gospels by Christ's farewell to the cities of the lake.
In the gospel
of St. John the call to the spiritual life is more clearly expressed,
the person
of Jesus brought out more in relief;
but both he and the Synoptists show that
the rupture was complete.
We cannot blame the fourth evangelist for having
included this incident from the Synoptic Gospels in order to explain the falling
away of the Galilaeans, which, as we shall have further occasion to note,
the first three gospels so plainly imply.
This instruction, then, at Capharnaum after the multiplication of the loaves
was of a crucial nature:
Jesus explains, as He was bound eventually to do,
that His mission is of a spiritual character.
Many a passage in the Synoptic
Gospels says the same thing,
but here it has that special feature introduced
by the symbol of bread on account of the preceding miracle.
The symbol leads
naturally to the Eucharist.
For this reason, and also because of the unity
of the subject, it seems necessary to put the concluding part of the discourse,
which specially concerns the Eucharist [John vi.51-58.],
at the same time and place.
With
regard, however, to this point in particular, it is by no means easy to see
the need for an explanation of the Eucharist just then.
Our inclination rather
is to see the difficulty of presenting a subject like that to ill-disposed
minds without at the same time giving explanations that would seem indispensable.
If St. Matthew composed the Sermon on the Mount from sayings spoken by Jesus
on various occasions, we see no reason why St. John should not have done
a similar thing here if he thought it profitable.
But there does seem some
advantage to be gained from introducing the doctrine of the Eucharist, distributed
under the form of bread and typified by the multiplication of loaves, at
the culminating point of a discourse on the Bread of Life;
and we are so
carried away by the beauty of this wonderful transition that at first we
have no thought for chronology.
But if the historian decided that the teaching
about the Eucharist ought to be placed shortly before the Last Supper and
in a more restricted company of disciples, we should be inclined to say that
he was right -
without ceasing to admire the Johannine arrangement of the sayings
of Jesus.
With these prefatory remarks let us enter the synagogue at Capharnaum whither
Jesus has been followed by His unwelcome partisans. [John
vi.59, 60.]
Probably it was not the
Sabbath day, seeing that the boats had crossed the lake.
But a certain solemnity
was ensured by the religious atmosphere of the place, though this did not preclude
discussion.
Instead of answering the question:
'Rabbi, when earnest Thou hither?'
Jesus begins the conversation by asking them to examine the real motives for their recent messianic excitement.
His multiplication of the loaves
had seemed to them a foretaste of the superabundance of good things that they
looked for at the hands of the Messiah:
crops as high as horsemen, vines flowing
with wine like rivers.
Let them rather seek the food of the soul, the food
that abides unto eternal life.
It is He who gives that food,
for the Father
has set His seal upon Him by confirming the doctrine of Jesus with miracles.
The people of Capharnaum have seen enough of these miracles to make them
regard Him as a Master,
one chosen by God to convey His commands to them.
They ask Him: 'What must
we do in order to meet God's wishes?'
They can hardly speak of anything but
what is to be done,
of works, that is,
and we can hardly blame them for talking
like Jews.
But obedience to the works commanded in the name of God implies
faith,
and their faith is too vague.
It is fixed upon God,
but it must also
be fixed, and with complete confidence,
on Him whom God has sent.
Had they
arrived as far as that,
these people who had tried to make of Him the instrument
of their own passions?
They begin to understand now that the claim made by Jesus is a very lofty
one.
A prophet might speak in God's name and recall them to the observance
of the Law:
but would he demand that absolute submission of mind which seemed
to know no limit?
To make such a claim it was not enough to advance a miracle
which, after all, was not so great as the one performed by Moses
when he gave
the people bread from heaven.
The barley loaves had not come down from heaven;
they had not even fallen from
the sky like the manna.
But what did that matter in truth?
The true bread
from heaven is He who comes forth from God and is consequently sent by God.
Moses has no jurisdiction in that sphere:
the Father alone, the Father of
Jesus,
can give life to the world by bestowing on it that bread.
The thought
has thus advanced.
The Son of Man gave bread, that is, doctrine:
now He is
life-giving food.
In the past the Law had been likened to bread and the tree
of life-a natural comparison.
But the other comparison is harder to understand.
Nevertheless Rabbi Aqiba was one day to interpret 'the sustenance of bread
' [Isaias iii.1.] as meaning the Talmudic doctors,
since the Book of Proverbs in the name of Wisdom said: 'Eat of my bread.' [Proverbs ix.5.]
Was Jesus, then, the Wisdom of God, and
did He hold within His own person a spiritual doctrine profitable to the souls
of men?
Not understanding Him, and so neither venturing to raise objection nor expressing deliberate assent, they say:
'Lord, give us this bread, always,'
and not once only,
He had done in the case of the miracle worked with ordinary bread.
[John vi.34.
It is tempting to take πάντοτε in the sense of the French toujours,
'whatever it may be, give it to us all the same.'
But Jesus means it in the sense of 'always,'
and it does not seem that there is the twofold meaning here.]
Certainly these people were
not hostile to the Master.
Though they could not rise to the level of His
thought, they gave a last sign of good will.
Jesus therefore answers them
with great kindness,
not by offering them the bread they ask without having
any exact idea of what it is,
but by an explanation along with an appeal.
The bread He speaks of is a spiritual bread
which has no need of being given
more than once,
for its efficacy does not diminish after the fashion of material
things.
Once a man has tasted it
he will never hunger again,
for this gift
is by its nature imperishable,
and as far as God is concerned
the gift will
never be taken back,
for God's gifts are without repentance.
But, once again,
this bread is Jesus Himself.
He has come, and now it is for men to approach
Him by faith.
He will reject no one,
for those who come to Him are brought
by the Father who has sent Him from heaven;
and the will of the Father is that Jesus should keep them unto eternal life,
unto the resurrection on the last day.
But, alas!
those to whom He speaks,
those who have seen Him and see Him now,
refuse to believe in Him.
[Verse 36 should probably come after v. 40.]
In fact,
His kind of Messiahship disturbs them.
They were willing perhaps to allow that
the Messiah should have something to do with the resurrection of the dead,
so that those who had died as martyrs in the past might share in the earthly
bliss which the Messiah was to inaugurate.
[On this very vexed question cf. Le Messianisme, pp. 130, 176 ff.]
But there seemed to be no question
of that bliss now.
Eternal life, the last day ...
did not that mean doing
away with happiness on this earth
and depriving them of just revenge for all
the ills they had endured?
Thus their own expectations are pushed into the
background,
their part in the triumph of the Messiah is no longer spoken of
and is abolished.
Disheartened,
they go away.
Others appear on the scene, but indirectly, in a way of their own with which
the Synoptists have made us familiar.
The latter call them Pharisees or Scribes;
St. John often describes them as
'the Jews,' meaning by that those who
are opposed to Jesus.
Instead of questioning Him openly, as the others had
done,
they talk among themselves with a sort of muttering that gives a sense
of hostility ready to break out but coldly restrained.
Accustomed as they
are to argument,
they have perceived the crucial point quite plainly beneath
the metaphor of the bread and have followed it through the intricacies of
the discourse:
Jesus claims to have come down from heaven.
That was one
of the marks of the Messiah, but it was not true of Jesus the son of Joseph;
they knew His father and mother;
they came, these 'Jews,' from the same neighbourhood
as Himself and were not to be imposed on.
In dealing with them the Master adopts a sterner note.
He begins by calling
them out, as it were, into the open:
'Murmur not among yourselves.'
They look on themselves as appointed judges;
the standard of action is what
seems good according to the light of their minds.
But they are altogether in
the wrong.
The very reason why they do not show themselves docile to the teaching
of Jesus
is because they have not received light from God.
That light is necessary
and it suffices.
They cannot come to Jesus because they are not drawn by the
Father.
Not that this excuses them.
If men are to be drawn by God they must
desire it, whereas these 'Jews' trust in their own knowledge.
Other men,
those who have accepted the Father's teaching, come to Jesus.
The Jews might ask:
'Does this teaching, then, give the vision of God?'
No; for no one has seen the Father save Him who is with God, that is the Son,
Jesus Himself;
and if the Jews reflected on this they would ask themselves
whether a Son who beholds the Father because He is with the Father, is not
the Son of God in the strict sense.
[However exalted may seem this vision of the divine life,
it does not go beyond what we shall find in St. Matthew (xi.25-27) and St.
Luke (x.21-22).]
But Jesus does not pause to speak to them
of His sonship.
All that He wants to do now is to show that men cannot come
to Him except by faith, under the impulse and light that the Father gives.
And since He is appealing to faith.
He contents Himself with saying again that
He is the object of that faith,
He the bread come down from heaven;
and whosoever
eats of this bread will never die.
Those who ate of the manna are dead,
for
no natural bread, even if miraculous in origin, can preserve a man from temporal
death.
But He is the spiritual bread which is free from the conditions of change,
and which therefore bestows a spiritual life that is endless.
Every kind of
bread acts according to its nature and the end for which it is designed.
Beneath
all this there lies the reminder that man has the formidable use of his free
will:
though he can accept life,
he can also refuse it
so long as that life
which is now offered to him is not yet transformed into eternal life.
This return to the subject of the bread come down from heaven now reveals
itself as a transition to a mystery that is more difficult to understand.
Jesus
had already said that the bread of God gives life to the world. [John
vi.33.]
It is of the
nature of bread to sustain life.
He now goes on to insist:
'I am the bread of life,
the living bread. ...'
How can bread give life?
It is spiritual
bread which has that property, since it actually gives spiritual life.
Jesus,
who was this bread, was to take away sin and give life to the world by His
death, which God had destined Him to and laid upon Him, and by the immolation
of His flesh.
He therefore had the right to declare that His immolated flesh
was the life of the world, and in order that His meaning may be clearer still
He will soon speak of His blood.
It follows then that to feed on the spiritual
bread that He Himself was, is to feed on His flesh:
He declares this explicitly.
The Jews are so astonished that they resume their murmuring.
Some of them,
it may be, try to understand the declaration in a figurative sense:
the greater
number judge it absurd and refuse to consider it.
Jesus maintains it with the
greatest energy.
He goes on to say that this eating and assimilating of His
flesh and blood
is the necessary means of union with the Father by means of
the Son.
Just as the Son lives by the Father,
so he who is united to the Son
will live by Him and have eternal life.
[This might also be understood as meaning that Jesus lives
for the Father, and that the faithful ought to live for Him.]
After that the Jews no longer debate
among themselves.
Such clear words defy the most ingenious subtleties of interpretation:
'Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood. ...
My flesh is meat indeed,
and My blood is drink indeed ...'
They could only let Him go on speaking.
Let us recall the words of Bossuet, which still retain their force against those who even to-day hold to the figurative sense:
'All this, you say, is mere mystery and allegory:
to eat and drink means to believe;
to eat the flesh and drink the blood means to look on them as separated on the cross and seek life in our Saviour's wounds.
If that is so, O my Saviour,
why dost Thou not speak simply,
and why leave Thy hearers to murmur, to be scandalized and forsake Thee,
instead of telling them Thy meaning plainly?
But here, the more they murmur against Him,
the more shocked they are at such strange words, the more He stresses them,
the more He repeats them,
the more He plunges, so to say, into difficulties and mysteries.
He had but to say one word to them.
He had but to say: "What troubles you?
To eat My flesh means to believe in it;
to drink My blood means to think upon it;
in fact the words simply mean meditating upon My death."
That would have ended all doubt;
there would have remained no shadow of a difficulty.
Yet He does not speak thus.
He leaves His own disciples to succumb to temptation and scandal for lack of saying just one word to them.
That is not like Thee, O my Saviour.
No, certainly, that is not like Thee.
Thou hast not come to distress men with long words that lead to nothing:
that would be finding pleasure in proposing paradoxes merely in order to bewilder them.'
[Meditations sur les évangiles, La Céne, XXXVe jour.]
The meeting had not been without profit for His persistent enemies.
They saw
His new-found friends already out of their depth, and they rejoiced to see
the innovator caught in His own toils.
But there were others who were grieved,
the disciples who had been with Him now for some time, who had given themselves
wholeheartedly to their Master and so far seemed to appreciate His teaching.
Some of them, however, had gradually weakened in their attachment:
their devotion
was now merely nominal.
On that day there was hesitation in the minds of nearly
all, and they were even then making up their minds to turn back.
Really, they
thought, this last discourse of Jesus was offensive in every way.
Could anyone
even listen to it without protest?
In this critical hour Jesus does not forsake
them.
By proving to them that He reads their thoughts He makes a fresh appeal
to their confidence:
He asks them to trust to Him for the meaning of His words,
which are spirit -
that is, past human understanding -
and yet are life, with
a spiritual life that is necessarily mysterious.
He has often repeated
that He has come down from heaven.
They are loath to believe it.
But suppose
they see Him going up to where He was before, will not that convince them?
Let them have patience, then.
It is the spirit which gives the life of which
He has spoken:
the flesh, with all that the word implies of change, corruption,
and mortality,
the flesh of itself would profit nothing.
He is just as aware
of that as they.
But He sees that His words do not reach their hearts.
He observes
with sorrow that some of them do not believe.
Many go away and leave Him.
Yet to-day there are many critics who seize on the words with which Jesus
condescends to the difficulties of His disciples, on this distinction between
spirit and flesh, and see in it a retractation instead of a help to the deeper
understanding of His changeless doctrine.
Consequently, they take these words
in a sense different from that in which they were understood by the disciples,
who were not the less repelled even when Jesus spoke them.
Because St. Paul
speaks of the opposition between the spirit and the letter [2
Corinthians iii.6.],
they here take
the spirit that vivifies to be a figurative sense,
whereas the profitless flesh
they understand as the literal sense.
But there is not the slightest sign here
that Jesus is explaining a parable.
The aim of His whole discourse was to replace
natural longings by a strong desire for the spiritual and divine life.
If the
disciples think that the flesh profits anything, they have understood nothing.
As for the flesh of Him who has come down from heaven to give life to the world,
it partakes of a spiritual nature;
it is under this character that they must
understand it is given to them.
Such is in fact the mystery of the Eucharist.
When we have affirmed the reality of the Flesh and Blood in this sacrament,
we have to add that the eating takes place in a spiritual manner;
the Flesh
is of no profit unless it be received in spirit as well as in truth.
Jesus
does not say that so plainly here;
all He gives is a first intimation of it
for which He requires faith.
It is easier for us because of the truly prophetic character of the words
of the Gospel, declaring the necessity of feeding on the Body and Blood of
Jesus so that we may live by His life and by the life of the Father.
We see
around us great numbers of men,
absorbed in the cares of the present life,
devoting all their endeavours to obtain from it their happiness,
since they
do not place their hopes in the happiness of the life to come;
these turn
their backs on Jesus.
Some there are who long for spiritual benefits and seek
them in Jesus Christ their Lord;
but the Eucharist repels them.
They accept
it only as a commemoration of what is past and gone;
thus Jesus ceases to
be present for them, and is despoiled of the divine attribute of omnipresence,
of being always with His followers.
He is banished to a moment of history.
Soon people lose the habit of seeking Him in heaven;
they still like to appeal
to His doctrine and His personal character,
but His doctrine is only that of
a prophet or a wise man,
so He Himself can be nothing more than a prophet or
a wise man.
They ask how could this man give us His flesh to eat?
To that
there is no answer.
But that God, who gave life to the world by His Son,
should
not have wholly withdrawn Him from the world,
but should have left Him present
in the world in order that the Flesh which saved it should still sustain it,
does not that seem worthy of His goodness?
Does it not seem consistent with
the very plan of the Incarnation?
It is, moreover, the only right meaning
of Scripture,
as is admitted nowadays even by unbelievers
who,
though they
do not acknowledge its authority,
are concerned to discover its true meaning.
In this prophetic scene the faithful are represented by the Twelve.
To them Jesus turns, saddened by the departure of so many whom He loved,
and says:
'And you,
will you also go away?'
Simon Peter answers for them all:
'Lord, to whom should we go?
Thou hast the words of eternal life,
and we believe and know that Thou art the Holy One of God.'
His mind had been raised to thoughts
of the world to come,
to which it was the desire of Jesus to lead all these
Galilaean disciples.
Peter was making an act of faith in Jesus Christ, as one
sent by God and sharing in His holiness.
Later on he was to be enlightened
still more.
There was another disciple, Judas, who by his silence seemed to
consent to Peter's promise of fidelity;
but even already his heart was no
longer with his Master.
Perhaps he had come to Jesus out of a motive of self-seeking
and ambition,
and had already been wounded in his greed and pride.
Or had some
occurrence of which we know nothing changed his sympathy for his Master into
aversion?
Would that he had gone away with the rest!
Jesus intended us to
realize that He was not duped.
But He endured the presence of the man who was
to betray Him.
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