The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ (C) – June 22, 2025

St. Paul – Lyons, KS

Genesis 14:18-20; Psalm 110:1-4; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; Luke 9:11b-17

Where are we when we attend Mass?

Like I mentioned a few weeks ago, as you come to end of your time in a place, a common thing to do is to think of of the “good times.” You start to think back on good moments, to give thanks for the good moments. A few weeks ago I compared it to a “Greatest Hits!” CD collection. And like I mentioned, these last few weeks I have here I wanted to return to some of my “greatest hits” (if you can call them that). I want to share with you one more time some of the things that I most want to impress on you.

One way I have done this over the years (and many of you have commented on it) is by using movies to help our imagination. People don’t read books anymore. Movies are the ways we pass on our great stories now. And I’ve watched a lot of them! And I want to go back to one of those movies today—today, in particular, as we celebrate Corpus Cristi, this solemnity dedicated to the Eucharist, this Eucharistic Mystery we celebrate each and every Sunday.

Because, real quick, think: Where are we right now? What’s really happening here? We know that we’re required to attend Mass on Sunday—but why? Can’t we just do whatever makes us feel “close to God”—fishing, hiking, coffee and our Bible and home? Why the Mass? And also, why not any church? Why not shop around town for the best preacher, or the best music, or the best children’s program, or the best community, or the best donuts? We all know people that have walked away from the Mass to another church for reasons like that. And it breaks my heart when this happens. Why? Because all of a sudden people begin missing out on what is the single greatest miracle, the single most amazing event in the universe—and I mean that literally. But why? What’s happening? Where are we right now?

Saving Private Ryan

And the answer to that question—turns out it was a movie that helped me imagine this. One of the most incredible images I’ve ever found for imagining and understanding what is going on at the Mass is the movie Saving Private Ryan.

Saving Private Ryan is a movie based on a true story about a man and his three brothers who are all fighting in World War II. It’s 1944, D-Day has just happened, and as the movie gets going we discover that all three brothers of this man have all been killed in action. And so not wanting to leave their poor mother without children, the war department sends off a rag-tag group of soldier to find the one remaining brother, sent to find Private James Ryan—so as to save him, to rescue him, to bring him home.

Spoiler alert! They find him. And save him. But only after several men in the group of soldiers have been killed, all in their attempts to rescue this one man. And even when they find him, they are soon caught in the middle of a fire-fight. And in the closing scene of the movie, we see the captain of this small group of soldiers—a man by the name of John H. Miller—dying on a bridge from wounds sustained in battle. Now, over the course of this two-hour movie, we’ve come to know this man; he is a really good man, a man of integrity and honor. And we’ve gotten to see all that he has done and gone through and suffered so as to rescue this Private Ryan. And here in the closing scene, he’s been wounded in battle, and is dying.

And as he’s dying, he grabs Ryan, pulls him close, and says, “James, earn this.” Ryan can’t hear him in the midst of the battle. And so he he says again, “Earn it.”

And then movie fades to a scene, decades later. And Ryan is now an old man at the cemetery in Normandy, at a grave…the grave of a friend.

A friend who had laid down his life so that he might live. A friend that had made it possible for him to have his wife and children and grandchildren there with him.

And we discover that the whole movie had been a FLASHBACK, something that took place in his memory, in his mind—just by him standing there. For those of you that have see the movie, the movie actually begins with the old Private Ryan in the cemetery with his wife and children and grandchildren. And he walks into the cemetery, headed for a particular grave. But at the time we don’t know WHO’s grave it is, or WHY he’s heading there. But by the time we get to the end of the movie, we understand. Ryan isn’t standing there bored, detached, wondering when he can leave. He is standing there at the grave of his friend, the one who rescued him, the one who died so that he might live.

And as he’s standing there he says this: “Every day I think about what you said to me that day on the bridge. And I’ve tried to live my life the best that I could.” In other words: “I have never forgotten. I have never taken for granted what you did for me. I have always remembered your sacrifice. And I have tried to live my life in a response to that sacrifice with integrity and with honor.”

Why is this such a powerful scene? Why does it stir something up within us? Why does it make grown men cry? Well, it’s because we see in real life what the response to a man who laid down his life for another looks like. It’s just the raw emotion of, “You saved my life!” If something like that happened to us, it would change our life. We would want to lead lives worthy of that sacrifice, lives of integrity, honor. We would recognize that our life, our real life, came at a cost.

The Mass: More Than a Flashback

But as moving as those scenes and those movies are, what is happening here at this Mass is more moving, more dramatic, more powerful—and it has the potential to be life-changing, if only we had eyes to see what’s really going on. Why? Because Saving Private Ryan is a flashback; just standing by the grave, everything comes to mind: thoughts, feelings, everything. But the Mass is not a flashback! It’s much more powerful than that. But sadly, tragically, heartbreakingly, to our shame—most Catholics don’t know that. “Mass” is just the Catholic version of what every other church does: sing some churchy songs, say some churchy things, read some Bible readings, listen to someone talk about Jesus, crackers and wine—and then I can go. Heartbreaking.

But it’s right there! Every time we come to Mass, we hear these words: “Do this in memory of me.” That is such a lame translation. The language being used means something more like, “When you do this, the action that you are recalling is actually happening now, in your midst.”

So in the Old Testament there is something at the very center, at the very heart of the story. And the center is an EVENT. And everything builds up to it, or is looking back at it. The EVENT is a dramatic rescue—rescue from slavery. The Israelites had been enslaved in Egypt for 430 years. But suddenly God did something. He rescued them from slavery, drew them out of this place of bondage.

And this EVENT has a meal connected with it. And the instructions for this meal are very precise. And throughout the rest of the story (and even today, our Jewish brothers and sisters) when they celebrate this meal, they believe that the EVENT becomes present once again. Exodus describes it saying, “This day shall be for you a memorial day” (Ex 12:14). A passage in the Psalms says, “The Lord has established a memorial for himself” (Ps. 111:4). The Greek word used there for “memorial” is anamnesis. And that word doesn’t just mean “remembering,” or “calling to mind,” but “making present,” it is present here now. This is extraordinary! God established this memorial. Why? So that they could constantly relive and partake in this RESCUE—the event could be present in their time and place.

Ok. What about the New Testament? The New Testament also has a center: everything is leading up to it, or looking back at it. And this center is also an EVENT. The EVENT is Jesus’ life, death and resurrection (what is also called the “Paschal Mystery”). This is also a dramatic rescue. But rescue from the slavery of Sin, Death, Satan, and Hell.

And this EVENT also has a meal connected with it. And in the course of the instructions for this meal (which Jesus gave at the Last Supper, and as we heard in our second reading from St. Paul), we hear, “Do this in MEMORY of me.” Want to guess what the Greek word for memory is there? Anamnesis. So what is Jesus saying? When this meal is celebrated, the EVENT is not just remembered or recalled, but it is made present. The EVENT, the Paschal Mystery is MADE PRESENT. And as the Christian movement begins, this is what they celebrate every Sunday—this is the MASS. And this is extraordinary! It’s not just a MEAL, but in the context of the meal the EVENT becomes present. We relive and partake in this EVENT, this RESCUE.

Where are we right now?

Like I said: tragically, to our own shame, most Catholics do now know anything about what I just said. We have never learned, or we have just never really grasped this profound truth that at Mass we are at the cross, we are at Calvary. Here, today, in just a few moments, we will become contemporaries of the cross of Jesus Christ. The same sacrifice that Jesus offered that day on calvary is being offered here on this altar—today. It is made present, here, today.

But think back to that scene from Saving Private Ryan, as Ryan is walking though the cemetery. Ryan is overwhelmed! He falls down in tears at the grave of his friend, of this man died for him. It’s like he’s saying, “This is the man who died for me. I owe everything to this man. I am alive because of this man. I have never forgotten what you did for me,” he says. “I have never taken it for granted. I have tried to live my life in a way that is worthy of that sacrifice, to live my life in response to that sacrifice.” That’s Ryan’s attitude.

How do we respond?

The question is: what is ours? Here, present at calvary in the Mass, what is our response?

Since the earliest days of the Church, the Mass, gathering around the Eucharist—this was the center of the Christian life. Even when they were threatened with death, people would come to Mass. For example, very early on, about the year 300, the Emperor Diocletian banned people from going to Mass, with incredibly sever consequences if they were caught. And yet the Christians were courageous enough to defy the emperor’s decree, even accepting death rather than missing the Sunday Eucharist. There is a famous story of the martyrs of Abitinae; 49 Christians were found guilty during the reign of Diocletian of celebrating the Sunday Eucharist in defiance of the emperor’s law. And what was their reply in court? “Without fear of any kind we have celebrated the [Eucharist] because it cannot be missed.” And then they said this, “We cannot live without the [Eucharist].” Even during torture, they would not renounce their faith in the Eucharist.

Ok. Where are we? What’s happening? This is no empty ritual. This has the power to change everything for you. Why? Because it is the cross, this is Jesus Christ (the event of Jesus Christ) really, truly, substantially present.

We come—and we come each and every Sunday—because this is the event that saves our lives. Like Private Ryan in front of the man who saved his life, we come in thanksgiving, in gratitude, begging to be given the strength to continue to live our life, our entire life, every part of our life, as a response to the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. We don’t come because of me, because of our friends, because of the donuts, no. We come because Jesus Christ is present, Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity, in the Eucharist.