6 June 2010
Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ (Corpus Christi)
(WARNING: The following includes content that may be offensive to some readers including (but cetainly not limited to) the inherent dignity of the human person, the ultimate significance of the Incarnation, and an entirely unsqueamish proclamation of the goodness of the human body. Reader discretion is advised.)
I want to talk about bodies (the bodies sitting next you on a crowded bus, the bodies in front of you in line at the grocery store, the bodies of loved ones and the bodies of strangers). Some are round, some angular, some well, some sick, some new, some old. I want to talk about your body (the weight and warmth of it, the strength and dignity of it, the vulnerability and hunger of it).
I want to talk because I worry about bodies.
The truth of the matter is that we live in a world hostile toward bodies and this hostility seems to manifest itself with dreadful clarity in regards to the most vulnerable members of our society. It’s nearly impossible to turn on the television or pick up a newspaper or check your email without being inundated with crimes against bodies. Violence and objectification have become part of our daily diet. Broken bodies flash across our television screens, crowd our cities' overburdened emergency rooms, and plead for mercy on the subway, on the street, and in neighborhood shelters.
So what does all of this have to do with the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ? What does it have to do with us as believers in God Incarnate? Well, everything, of course.
Sometimes we get so wrapped up in the ethereal business of souls that we neglect the fact that our God is a God profoundly concerned with (and intentionally entangled in) the glory and messiness of the human body. The Holy One chooses the body of the Blessed Virgin Mary (the body of an unmarried teenage girl living below the poverty line in Roman occupied Galilee) to be the sanctuary and stronghold of the Christ. God takes flesh every bit as vulnerable and finite as our own to come among us… to be Emmanuel. It is this very body that is offered at the cross and it is this very Body that we receive at the Holy Mystery of the Eucharist.
By donning our fragile human frame and allowing himself to enter into the fullness of human suffering and by rising again triumphant, brilliant, and scarred, Christ shows God’s ultimate solidarity with us and with the whole of our being. On this Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, may he awaken in us (down in our bones, deep in the sinew of our hearts) a commitment to be in solidarity with all bodies. May Christ give us the courage to stand with those who have been neglected, abused, and forgotten. May Christ strengthen our arms to hold mourning, hurting, and exploited bodies. May Christ steady our hands as we reach out to bodies imprisoned by poverty. May Christ teach us gentleness, tenderness, and ferocity in our protection of children whose small, fragile bodies are especially precious in his sight. May Christ give us strong, unwavering voices to speak his name in the face of racism, sexism, homophobia, religious intolerance, and all forms of violence that threaten the wholeness and wellness of bodies made in the divine image. May it be so every time we receive his Body at the Eucharist. May it be so. May it be so.
Sometimes we get so wrapped up in the ethereal business of souls that we neglect the fact that our God is a God profoundly concerned with (and intentionally entangled in) the glory and messiness of the human body. The Holy One chooses the body of the Blessed Virgin Mary (the body of an unmarried teenage girl living below the poverty line in Roman occupied Galilee) to be the sanctuary and stronghold of the Christ. God takes flesh every bit as vulnerable and finite as our own to come among us… to be Emmanuel. It is this very body that is offered at the cross and it is this very Body that we receive at the Holy Mystery of the Eucharist.
By donning our fragile human frame and allowing himself to enter into the fullness of human suffering and by rising again triumphant, brilliant, and scarred, Christ shows God’s ultimate solidarity with us and with the whole of our being. On this Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, may he awaken in us (down in our bones, deep in the sinew of our hearts) a commitment to be in solidarity with all bodies. May Christ give us the courage to stand with those who have been neglected, abused, and forgotten. May Christ strengthen our arms to hold mourning, hurting, and exploited bodies. May Christ steady our hands as we reach out to bodies imprisoned by poverty. May Christ teach us gentleness, tenderness, and ferocity in our protection of children whose small, fragile bodies are especially precious in his sight. May Christ give us strong, unwavering voices to speak his name in the face of racism, sexism, homophobia, religious intolerance, and all forms of violence that threaten the wholeness and wellness of bodies made in the divine image. May it be so every time we receive his Body at the Eucharist. May it be so. May it be so.
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