When I was a child, I once went to a summer art program where we each colored an entire piece of paper with crayons. Next, we painted our wonderful colored drawings with black paint! I couldn’t believe we were losing our wonderful rainbowed drawings. But a few minutes later when the paint had dried, we began to uncover the real artwork. Now, by taking a small sharp stick and “drawing” on the black paint, we uncovered the real colors underneath which showed through each line we made in the paint. The more we drew on the black paint, the more colorful and complete our artwork was, reflecting the colors at the base of the artwork.
I think of that experience when I see Jesus struggle to explain things to his disciples. First he tells them that he will be food for them. After listening to their puzzlement, he explains that he will be bread for them, the source of life. They still don’t get it and so in today’s gospel he draws them as clear a picture as he can, in language that is jarring in its directness.
“He who feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has life eternal.”
His statement is unsettling to some, but what Jesus is really saying is what he has been saying to us all along: I am the source of your life. Leave aside the things that aren’t important in this world and listen to my teachings. Let me into your life in this radical way and I will be with you in a whole new, deeply loving way.
I sometimes squirm at this language and wonder if he couldn’t have made it a little well, less strong, maybe more polite. But then I realize that the disciples wouldn’t have understood something more vague -- and neither would I. It’s the strength of that body and blood image that grabs my attention and makes me look twice at what Jesus is really saying. If I feed on his flesh and drink his blood, Jesus promises me life eternal and says he will be with me. No, not just “with me” but something even more complex and profoundly loving: he will be in me and I will be in him. He is inviting me into a deeply personal relationship with him, to be in me and with me throughout all of my life, my pains and joys, my vulnerabilities and my weaknesses.
Now when I re-read the gospel and see the invitation to “feed on me” it seems joyously loving and forgiving of the many times when I will see only black paint on the paper and will fail to see clearly that very colorful and wholehearted invitation.
Maureen McCann Waldron
The most important part of my life is my family – Jim my husband of 47 years and our two children. Our daughter Katy, a banker here in Omaha, and her husband John, have three wonderful children: Charlotte, Daniel and Elizabeth Grace. Our son Jack and his wife, Ellie, have added to our joy with their sons, Peter and Joseph.
I think family life is an incredible way to find God, even in (or maybe I should say, especially in) the most frustrating or mundane moments.
I am a native of the East Coast after graduating in 1971 from Archbishop John Carroll High School in suburban Philadelphia. I graduated from Creighton University in 1975 with a degree in Journalism and spent most of the next 20 years in corporate public relations in Omaha. I returned to Creighton in the 1990s and completed a master’s degree in Christian Spirituality in 1998.
As our children were growing up, my favorite times were always family dinners at home when the four of us would talk about our days. But now that our kids are gone from home, my husband and I have rediscovered how nice it is to have a quiet dinner together. I also have a special place in my heart for family vacations when the kids were little and four of us were away from home together. It’s a joy to be with my growing family.
Writing a Daily Reflection is always a graced moment, because only with God’s help could I ever write one. I know my own life is hectic, disjointed and imperfect and I know most of us have lives like that. I usually write from that point of view and I always seem to find some sentence, some word in the readings that speaks right to me, in all of my imperfection. I hope that whatever I write is in some way supportive of others.
It’s an incredibly humbling experience to hear from someone who was touched by something I wrote. Whether the note is from someone across campus or across the world, it makes me realize how connected we are all in our longing to grow closer to God.
