He therefore let you be afflicted with hunger,
and then fed you with manna
The ancient Israelites ate manna in the dessert in order to help them understand that their exodus journey from Egypt depended entirely on the providence of God. He let them "be afflicted with hunger" precisely so they could understand their need for his gift of manna and to appreciate it. They were to learn that man could not live "by bread alone does one live, but by every word that comes forth from the mouth of the LORD".
Those who ate the manna in the desert still died, and indeed did not even enter into the promised land. They did not yet demonstrate themselves to be a people who lived by the word of God but instead one who put him to the test. They grew tired of their supernatural food and their patience was worn out by their journey. They had received bread of angels (see Wisdom 16:20) but still somehow found plenty about which to complain.
"I am the living bread that came down from heaven;
whoever eats this bread will live forever;
Fortunately, this was not the end of the story. Jesus taught that the bread of the exodus was only a sign pointing toward a bread that was truly living, full of life-giving power.
Amen, amen, I say to you, it was not Moses who gave the bread from heaven; my Father gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world (see John 6:32-33).
The gift of the bread was meant to teach the exodus generation to depend on the word of God. So it was fitting that the Word of God himself would become living bread so that the people could feast, not only a symbol, but on the substance of that Word, and truly root themselves in dependence on God.
Just as the living Father sent me
and I have life because of the Father,
so also the one who feeds on me
will have life because of me.
Jesus himself said that he had hidden food that his hearers did not recognize, saying, "My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to accomplish his work" (see John 4:32-34). The utter dependence of Jesus on his Father was the food that sustained him. In turn Jesus was able to actually be food of this same sort for others. It was to be a food that was concerned not with satisfying the appetites of the body, but those of the soul. Thus is was life-giving in a way that any sort of earthly bread could never be.
Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood
has eternal life,
and I will raise him on the last day.
For my flesh is true food,
and my blood is true drink.
It was of course shocking to see symbol give way to substance in the person of Jesus himself. It would have been impossible to anticipate that God would give himself so completely in this way. Bread seemed to be too humble to become the way in which God would give himself away. But then, if he truly wanted to give all that he was, flesh, blood, soul, and divinity, could there have been a more complete way to demonstrate it?
Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood
remains in me and I in him.
Normal food provides a measure of communion with those with whom meals are shared. It happens in a merely external way that is easy to dismiss or ignore. But the living bread, who is Jesus himself, desires to provide communion with himself, the Father, and the Spirit at the most internal and intimate level imaginable. Yet in spite of the riches of this gift it is still fairly easy to ignore the way in which he enters our hearts and infuses us with eternal life.
I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing (see John 15:5).
We might imagine that it is common for branches to take the vine very much for granted until and unless they are separated from it and realize how, without it, they whither and quicky die. So too with the nourishment we receive in the Eucharist. We need faith to appreciate the gift we have been given. Without faith we tend to close ourselves off to the life-giving potential of the gift, in effect starving ourselves of the only source of true life. It is better to not need to learn the hard way by being separated from that life and seeing where we stand on our own. Instead, we should use our faith to recognize the truth of what Jesus is doing and desires to do within us. Then we will be grateful for what we receive and open to the possibility of still greater transformation by his power. Such growth remains quite hidden, but the eyes of faith can have the assurance that it is nevertheless taking place.
The cup of blessing that we bless,
is it not a participation in the blood of Christ?
The bread that we break,
is it not a participation in the body of Christ?
Jesus promised that he would be with us always, unto the end of the age (see Matthew 28:20), and the place where he is maximally present to us is precisely in his gift of the Eucharist. He gives himself in this way because he desires to live within us, to fill us, to sustain us, to be the very life that is the source of our life. If a normal meal provides some level of fellowship for those who eat, imagine what untapped riches of relationship are possible for share in the communion of this bread and this cup.
He has granted peace in your borders;
with the best of wheat he fills you.
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