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Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day. -John 6:54

The early Christians were accused of being cannibals and if you knew nothing about Christianity except verses like the one above, I might understand why you might think that. Jesus, talking about eating of his flesh and drinking of his blood, is a little too … explicit for our modern sensibilities. 

Maybe that’s because we don’t think about communion in that way.  In the liturgy we surround the body and blood with flowery language like “choirs of angels”, “Hosts of heaven” and “glorious resurrection.” Not that there’s anything wrong with that … but it does have the effect of dressing up what we are actually talking about: eating the flesh and drinking the blood of Jesus (His words, not mine). 

But when you get past the visceral reaction to what Jesus is saying, there is actually something very hopeful about it all.  Jesus comes to us as flesh and blood (incarnate, if you want to use the technical term). And so when we encounter Christ in communion, we aren’t meeting him just in a spiritual sense, but in a real, tangible way as well. 

The idea that Jesus comes to us in flesh and blood in communion means that we don’t worship a theoretical God.  God is not distant, but here, right in front of us.  We commune with Christ every time we gather at the table.

What could be more hopeful?

And what’s more, in this flesh and blood encounter, we receive a promise of eternal life – an ultimate, eschatological (see, you learn all kinds of fancy church words when you read the Wednesday Words!) hope.  This is the kind of hope that can sustain you through all of life’s trials; even through death itself. 

Next time, during communion, as you eat the body and drink the blood of Christ, remember the great hope you have in Jesus.