The Eucharist We Rely On Gives Food For the Soul Forever
Deacon Patrick Constantino | Photos: Madeline Pascual
The Gospel according to John 6:51–58
Jesus said to the crowds: “I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.”
The Jews quarreled among themselves, saying, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” Jesus said to them, “Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day.
For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him. Just as the living Father sent me and I have life because of the Father, so also the one who feeds on me will have life because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven. Unlike your ancestors who ate and still died, whoever eats this bread will live forever.”
The Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you Lord Jesus Christ!
Our faith and life are based on our belief in Jesus Christ, the Holy Eucharist who feeds us as food for the soul.
Most of us of a certain age remember when dinner parties were common. I do not think that is the case anymore. More often than not, people simply meet at a restaurant when they want to get together and share a meal. But it was not that long ago dinner parties were the norm.
At these dinner parties, people would dress fancier than usual. Children were usually fed earlier and afterwards were often told to make themselves scarce. After all, grownups need their personal time too! And the adults would sit for hours just talking, laughing, eating and drinking—all in the same room. And the TV was never on. Never. In some ways this form of entertainment is kind of a lost art. But there was something else that also came with a dinner party—the expectation of the return invitation.

In other words, the responsibility for hosting a dinner party did not fall on the same person or couple over and over and over again. Rather, if you were invited to someone’s house for one of these special gatherings you were expected to return the favor—even if you maybe weren’t that good at it—that is, even if you weren’t a great cook or didn’t have a very nice house or whatever. Hosting was not a one-way street. “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him.” My friends, today we continue our journey through the Bread of Life Discourse in the sixth chapter of John’s Gospel. And Jesus keeps on saying strange things that almost certainly did not make much sense to the crowds who heard him speak two thousand years ago.
Of course, we have the benefit of looking back and knowing how some of this played out, as did John writing more than fifty years after the death and resurrection of Jesus. And for us Catholics, it is impossible to hear these words and not immediately think about the Eucharist, think about this sacred meal we share each day and every week. Phrases such as “eat the flesh of the Son of Man” and “my flesh is true food, and my blood true drink” and “whoever eats this bread will live forever” do not completely confuse us as they would have confused Jesus’ listeners. We have a context to put them in and a holy ritual we partake in, that is a concrete expression of this deep truth.

“Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him.” These words are some of the most beautiful words Jesus ever spoke. It is an incredible image, one that sounds like something every single one of us would want to embrace. At least, on the surface, it seems that way. You see, this sentence does not contain one idea, one invitation, or one promise. It sort of contains two—one most of us probably like a lot more than the other. Let me explain.
Remains in Me! These words seem to paint a picture of us, the faithful, seeking God, moving toward God, going to wherever God is—God’s creatures leaving the things of this world behind in order to enter the realm of the divine. And this is part of the Scripture verse most of us can get on board with. We come here to dwell in God. We listen to God’s word to dwell in God. We say our prayers and perform our devotions to dwell in God.

We read spiritual material and go on retreats and all sorts of things to go wherever God is, dwell wherever God is, and commune with God wherever He is. And there is nothing wrong with that. In fact, it is absolutely necessary. It is sort of like the dinner I described earlier. God is the host. And we go to God’s house for dinner, for conversation, for the meal. And it feels good—which is why we return again and again and again to experience these God moments. But then there is that other part—the return invitation—the expectation we must now extend the same kindness to God—invite Him into our house, invite Him to where we live, invite Him into our hearts and minds and souls and day-to-day experiences. And this part of faith, this element of discipleship, this part of that beautiful Scripture verse is the part we probably do not like so much.
And I in Him! This mutual in-dwelling is precisely that—mutual. We are invited into God’s very life and, conversely, we are expected to invite Him into ours. God wants us to invite Him into our homes, workplaces, schools, and neighborhoods. He wants us to invite Him into our joys and sorrows, our successes our failures, our healthy relationships and our relationships that are struggling or even possibly crumbling.

Put simply—He wants us to host Him wherever we are at and whatever is going on in our lives. This holy in-dwelling is on full display in the sacred meal we share around this table. We bring our whole selves forward at communion to offer ourselves to our loving God, to approach the divine, and to step into that holy space where God is profoundly present. But we do not remain here forever. We take Him with us, consume His Body and Blood, receive Him into our hearts, minds, bodies, and souls so we can leave this place ready and willing to share His love and compassion, and mercy with everyone we meet.
Around this table, God is the host. But out there—in the world beyond these walls—we are the hosts. We are the ones called to extend an open invitation to our God to visit always, converse with us always, remain in us always—the exact same invitation He continually extends to us. And so, let us not consider our time in this holy place and the incredible meal we share at this table as the only place we can be intimately connected to our God, in communion with Him.

Rather, let us see this holy meal as God allowing us and inviting us to dwell with Him and in Him in a profound and lasting and life-changing way. But let us not forget our responsibility to return the favor—to make sure the sacred food we receive from this table becomes the guest we invite into every corner of our lives—transforming us, those we meet, and the world itself. “Whoever eats My flesh and drinks My blood remains in Me and I in him!” Let us embrace both parts of that statement! “God is always food for our hearts and souls!” Jesus, I trust in You! Amen!
Deacon Patrick Constantino retired from active Ministry on July 1, 2022. He is still a Deacon in good standing with full faculties to perform all sacraments in the Diocesan of Honolulu Hawai‘i. Constantino has been ordained for thirty-seven years. He is the first Filipino Deacon in the Diocesan of Honolulu. Prior to his ordination, Constantino was in government—first appointed in 1966 as Assistant Sergeant of Arms by the Speaker of the House Elmer F. Cravalho. When Cravalho became Maui’s first Mayor, Constantino became his Executive Assistant—the first of Filipino ancestry. Later, Constantino became the first County Treasurer of Filipino ancestry and the first County Grants Administrator and Risk Manager of Filipino ancestry. Constantino is married to his lovely wife Corazon for sixty-four years. They are blessed with four children, eleven grandchildren, and fifteen great grandchildren.