One
of the monks tells us this story. One day when he was a four or five, he was playing
in his backyard when he noticed, of all things, scraps of chocolate cake on the
lawn. A neighbor had thrown bits of stale cake onto the grass for the birds to
eat. Without thinking twice he picked up some cake and started munching. It was
definitely a bad move. His mother happened to be looking out the window
and saw what he was doing. She roared, “Stop. What will the
neighbors think! If you’re hungry just ask, and I'll give you something to
eat, anything you want.” And he admits after all that the cake definitely quite dry, quite stale and not very tasty.
Christ
Jesus wants more for us. What the more is, each of us probably knows somewhere,
way down in the depth of our own heart. Like our friend’s mom, he wants us to
come to him for everything we need. His loving regard is healing, drawing us,
calling us away from all the stuff that distracts us, all the things that we think might be
nourishing but are just stale, dry and not at all life-giving.
In
the Eucharist he gives us everything - his very Self as our Food. He is the living Bread;
his flesh real Food, his Blood real Drink. He is our hope, our fulfillment,
well worth hungering after. Riches, accomplishments - whether spiritual or
material - are nothing in comparison with him. And so he sets the table for us and
cries out to us, “Come, eat and drink.”
Photograph by Brother Brian.
