As I was pondering this passage from John's gospel, I couldn't help but think of the beautiful hymn we often sing here, number 335,
"I am the Bread of Life."
For many of us it is a favorite, although I know that opinion is not unanimous. That is the beauty of our hymnal - that it includes a great variety of music to suit the taste of many.
Each time we sing 335, we sing it with gusto, often standing on the last verse, singing a 1/2 step higher as Jean changes keys on the organ for that final chorus, "And I will raise them up on the last day..."
And I have noticed that even as we sing that third verse, "unless you eat of the flesh of the son of man, and drink of his blood, you shall not have life within you," we sing it without hesitation.
Each time we sing that hymn we are reciting the words of scripture - words found in the sixth chapter of the gospel of John and known as the "Bread of Life" discourse.
The gospel of John is the only one which does not record Jesus' words at the last supper, "Take, eat, this is my body..." words which for us have become the words of institution in the Eucharistic prayers.

Instead, John takes the feeding of the 5000 as a time to discuss Jesus as bread of life.

You heard part of the discourse last week as Vic spoke of the communion one finds at the table - both in the Eucharist and in one's home - as a sign of Christ's communion with us -
- and you will hear more next week, for the Bread of Life discourse is at the center of our Eucharistic theology.
In it are the seeds of the Passion- the life-giving flesh and blood of Jesus, given on the cross for our sins. And in it also, are the seeds for passionate response - response to this Christ who gives us his very self. Can we, as Christians, respond to this gift, if we truly understand it, in any way that is not passionate?

In today's reading, Jesus makes the graphic statement, "Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you."
Of all the rather surprising statements recorded in the gospels, this one is no doubt the most shocking.
More so than "For whoever wants to save his life must lose it for my sake..." or even "He who does not hate his father and mother is not worthy of me..."

We are Eucharistic Christians, so we see Jesus' words about flesh and blood as figurative - but when Jesus' followers heard it, they heard it in the literal sense.
Jewish laws strictly forbade the drinking of animal blood, which was a practice of some ancient cultures. And the idea of eating human flesh was as horrifying to ancient Judaism as it is to us.
Perhaps we have become too used to the words, having sung them, and read them, and heard them preached on so many times. Do they still have the power to discomfit us?

Have we lost the intensity with which Jesus proclaimed these words? The Greek word used for "unless you eat" is a word that means to gnaw on - like a dog gnaws on a bone. It implies continuous action, intense action.
Unless you chew or gnaw on me continually...

Historically, these words about flesh and blood shaped the liturgies of the early church. Roman pagans believed that Christians practiced cannibalism. - that the mass was actually a secret sacrifice culminating in the consumption of an enemy.

Because of this, Christians began to keep their Eucharistic celebrations secret, not even allowing in those who were preparing for baptism, until the night of Easter Vigil, when they were initiated through immersion in water, and received Eucharist for the first time.
This offense at these words about eating and drinking Jesus' flesh and blood began that day he fed the 5000, with a few loaves and fish. Some were so offended by his words that they left the company of Jesus.
But those who stayed did so because, even if they didn't understand what Jesus was getting at, even if they found his words shocking, their deep, intense hunger kept them at his side.
They hungered for truth, for hope, for wisdom.
They hungered to know the unnamed God and they saw manifest in this Jesus the likeness, the image of God on earth - so even though the words were confusing they stayed, - they chewed on his words, gnawed on his wisdom, drank in his miracles, feasted on his presence,
not knowing that they were already doing what Jesus had mandated - eating and drinking in the man himself -
drinking in this God who had come as flesh and blood, opening their hearts and minds to the incarnation.
For It is the great miracle of the incarnation that we partake of weekly at this altar. Jesus, God incarnate, born in a feeding trough, in the town of Bethlehem, which means house of bread, came to be for us the bread of heaven. Before and after his death, he broke bread with his disciples over and over again.
These experiences with Jesus indelibly marked the disciples through the association of bread and fellowship - of Jesus sharing his very self with them. Is it any wonder that after his Ascension, the disciples met together and broke bread, and drank wine in remembrance of Christ?
In the Episcopal Church we do not go as far as the Catholic church in defining the manner in which Christ abides in the Eucharist.
We do not preach transubstantiation, that the bread or wafer becomes the actual flesh of Christ.
Nor do we hold with Reformed doctrine that says the Eucharist is a holy memorial.

In our Eucharistic prayer, we pray that the elements we consume will be for us the body and blood of Christ - but how that occurs, we leave to the realm of Mystery.
As we take, and eat at this altar, we receive Christ, whose body was broken, and blood given, for our redemption.
Eat intensely of the person of Christ - Consume Him, by faith, in the Eucharist - cultivate a hunger for his presence, gnaw on his Word, drink in his love.
For he is the great overcomer of the hunger that dwells in the hearts of humankind. He is the One that has offered himself, fully, completely, to be bread for our hungry souls.