Readings : 1 Corinthians 11:23–26 and John 6:51–58
There are moments in the Christian year when Jesus’ words seem to slow us down, draw us closer to him, and ask us to look again. Today we are thinking about the feast of Corpus Christi and that is one of those moments. It’s a feast that invites us to pause and remember the heart of our faith - Jesus giving himself for the life of the world.
For some Christians, today is wrapped in rich tradition and deep sacramental theology. For others, it’s not a feast that is widely marked. But at its heart is something that every Christian treasures. That is the astonishing generosity of Jesus, who gives himself, fully, freely, lovingly, for us.
In our reading from Paul’s 1st letter to the Corinthians he says that he is passing on what he himself received from the Lord. Not a theory or a symbol he invented, but a wonderful gift - a revelation. A moment Jesus wanted his people to remember until he comes again.
“This is my body, which is for you…
This cup is the new covenant in my blood.”
Paul doesn’t rush. He lingers. He wants the church to understand that the Lord’s Supper is not just a ritual that is performed. Instead, it is a proclamation - that every time we break the bread and share the cup, we are telling the world, and reminding ourselves, that Jesus died for us, rose for us, and will return for us.
There are different interpretations of what happens at Communion, but what is clear from Paul’s language is that it is more than simply remembering that something happened - It is still about participation and proclamation and about receiving again the assurance of God’s grace and love.
In our readings, we also heard Jesus’ words in John chapter 6 - words that have stirred centuries of reflection:
“I am the living bread that came down from heaven.
Whoever eats this bread will live forever.”
Jesus is not pointing us to an image, but to himself. He is inviting us to trust him so deeply, so completely, that his life becomes our life. To “feed” on Christ is to depend on him, draw strength from him, and allow his Spirit to fill us with the life of God.
One thing about Communion that unites Christians is that we believe that when we come to the Lord’s Table with faith, something real happens as Jesus meets us, nourishes us and strengthens us. In a mystical and wonderful way, we are assured that Jesus is present to his people by the Holy Spirit.
Corpus Christi, then, becomes a day to celebrate the generosity of God - who does not stay distant, but draws near; who does not leave us hungry, but feeds us with grace; who does not leave us guessing, but gives us a meal that says, “You are mine. I have given everything for you.”
And one of the most amazing things about the Lord’s Supper is that it is not a reward for the perfect. It is food for those who are hungry, giving us strength and helping to reveal God’s grace and love again.
When Jesus fed the five thousand, he didn’t check credentials - He saw hungry people and fed them. When he gathered with his disciples at the Last Supper, he didn’t exclude the confused, the weak, or those who were struggling in any way, knowing that soon they would be running into hiding and leaving him … He broke bread with them all.
And he still does.
Corpus Christi reminds us that Jesus gives himself not to the deserving, but to anyone. Not just to those whose lives are perfectly sorted, but to the seeking. Not just to the strong, but to those who know they cannot live without him.
A church once held a summer picnic where everyone was asked to bring something to share. One young mum arrived flustered, having had a chaotic morning. All she had managed to grab was a single packet of crisps. She apologised as she placed it on the table, embarrassed that her offering was so small.
But as the picnic went on, she noticed something: her tiny contribution was swallowed up in a table overflowing with food. No one judged her. No one minded. The feast didn’t depend on what she brought - it depended on the generosity of everyone - and her being there …
And she realised that she had been welcomed into a feast she could never have provided for herself. That is the grace of Jesus.
We come to his Table with very little - sometimes nothing at all. But the feast doesn’t depend on what we bring. It depends entirely on what he has already given.
Corpus Christi is the reminder that Christ’s generosity is always greater than our poverty. We bring our hunger, our need, our emptiness - and he brings the feast.
So, if you’re listening today and you feel far from God…
If you feel spiritually empty… If you’re carrying guilt, or fear, or disappointment… If you’ve been trying to feed your soul on things that never satisfy…
Then hear Jesus’ words again:
“Whoever eats this bread will live forever.”
He is the Bread of Life. He is the One who satisfies. He is the One who gave his body and shed his blood so that we might know forgiveness, hope, and new life.
We don’t need to understand everything or need to have our lives sorted. We are simply invited to come to him with open hands and an open heart.
There is an old Christian saying, “We become what we receive.”
When we receive the bread and the wine in Communion, we are reminded that we are called to become people shaped by the self‑giving love of Jesus.
This means people who are open in generosity, who pour ourselves out in compassion and who carry Christ into the world. Corpus Christi is not only about what happens at the Table. It is about what happens after the Table - when we go out as the Body of Christ into the world.
So today, let us come with gratitude. Let us come with humility. Let us come with hunger.
And as we receive the bread and the wine, let us remember the One who gave everything for us, and who still gives himself, again and again, to all who come to him in faith.
May we feed on Christ in our hearts by faith with thanksgiving.
And may his life become our life, his love our love, his mission our mission.
So as we leave this place today, why not make a pledge to yourselves that each day this week, perhaps at breakfast, or when you pause with a cup of tea, or when you sit quietly at the end of the day - and pray a very simple prayer:
“Lord Jesus, feed me with your life today, and help me to share your life with others.”
That’s it… A prayer of receiving, and a prayer of giving. Because at Communion, we are always sent out. The Bread of Life should always become bread for others. The love we receive becomes the love we offer.
So, let the Bread of Life feed you - and then let his life flow through you into the world he loves.
May you go into this week nourished, strengthened, and sent by the One who still gives himself for the life of the world. Amen.
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