Solemnity of the Feast of Corpus Christi

Deuteronomy 8:2-3,14-16
1 Corinthians 11:23-29
John 6:47-58

During the week between the dedication of the World War II Memorial on Memorial Day weekend and the 60^th anniversary of the D-Day invasion last weekend, I heard many stories of the valor of ordinary Americans. Many of these stories are extremely moving and inspiring, not just because of the gallantry and bravery of the soldiers, but - more affecting - because of their humility and love, qualities we more closely associate with the gospel. ⁽¹⁾

In the early 1940s, George Sakato joined the Army after his family had moved out of California to avoid being placed in an internment camp. But he did not escape suspicion and unjust treatment. During his basic training in Florida, when President Roosevelt visited his base, Private Sakato and other American soldiers of Japanese ancestry were put in a barracks and guarded with machine guns. Despite such shameful humiliation, he distinguished himself on the battlefield in France. For his courage, inspiring leadership, and devotion to duty, he was awarded our nation's highest military honor: the Medal of Honor.

Lt. Vernon Baker also earned the Medal of Honor for his service in Europe during World War II. In telling his story, he said:

I was only 22 years old then, 23. And I became the father to my platoon. The men we, we got to know each other. . . . [During the campaign up the Italian peninsula,] I lost some good men. It was 19 men that I left over in Italy there that couldn't be here with me today. And without them, four of those men, I probably wouldn't be here myself. And everybody calls me a hero, but those are the heroes. . . ⁽²⁾

Specialist John Baca earned the Medal of Honor in Vietnam. He led his team through enemy fire to help another platoon. After joining up with them, an enemy grenade landed in their midst. Without hesitation, Specialist Baca took off his steel helmet, used it to cover the grenade, and then fell on the grenade as it exploded. He saved eight men. Another Vietnam Medal of Honor recipient, Specialist Clarence Sasser, gave up his college deferment and served as a medic. He ran across a rice paddy in a hail of enemy fire to assist the wounded. During this engagement, he was repeatedly hit by enemy fire, and despite agonizing pain, he continued to aid other injured soldiers. After both his legs were immobilized and his shoulder had been hit, he dragged himself over 100 yards through mud to treat a fallen soldier and then to guide another group back to safety where he tended their wounds until they were evacuated another five hours later.

These are stirring stories, and there are thousands more: ordinary people acting with extraordinary grace and virtue. Where does this heroism come from? It comes from love. Jesus said: "Greater love hath no man than this: that a man lay down his life for his friends." That is what we as Christians are called to witness to every day: God's love for humanity, for every individual, for you and me, for those we like and esteem, for those we don't know - the stranger, and for those we ignore and have animosity. God loves each one of us, equally and infinitely. It's been many, many years since this parish has had an outdoor procession. We do it today to testify to God's love for the world, for every human being. At the mass, God gives us strength and nurtures us through the precious Body and Blood of our Lord. We have this gift because Jesus died for us on the cross. Out of his love for us, he humbly submitted himself to humanity and to the humiliation and brutality and injustice and agony and horror of the cross, so that today and every day we can receive him at the altar, so that we can become one with him, united with him in us and with us in him. As we bear the host through our neighborhood, that is what we are witnessing to. In joining the procession we are expressing our desire to follow Jesus, to make his heroism, his sacrifice, his love more characteristic of our lives, more characteristic of our world.

The Church began celebrating the Feast of Corpus Christi, the Feast of the Body of Christ, in the 13^th century to commemorate God's gift of himself in the mass. The obvious day to celebrate this is in Holy Week on Maundy Thursday when Jesus instituted the mass, but since that evening is also when Jesus was betrayed our celebration is muted - to say the least. So the Church chose the first free Thursday, Thursday being the day of the Last Supper, after Eastertide to express its joy for this gift. Since the 13^th century, Christians have had outdoor processions with the Blessed Sacrament to witness to Christ's love for us, his gift to us. In the Middle Ages, the procession especially expressed the unity and harmony that comes from the Body of Christ. Christians emphasized the communal dimension of the Body of Christ, the bond that holds us altogether in charity. ⁽³⁾ Since we all received the Body of Christ, we become brothers and sisters in Christ, part of Christ's family.

As we adore and worship the Blessed Sacrament, as we carry it out into the world, we are praying for unity: our desire for unity with all people, not only with those we like, but particularly those we don't like. We are witnessing to our desire and our godly calling for unity in the Church: unity in the Church universal, unity in the Episcopal Church, unity in this Diocese, unity in our parish family. We sing:

For all thy Church, O Lord, we intercede;
Make thou our sad divisions soon to cease;
Draw us the nearer each to each, we plead,
By drawing all to thee, O Prince of Peace;
Thus may we all one bread, one body be,
Thro' this blest sacrament of unity. ⁽⁴⁾

Unity, community, must characterize the Church. Unfortunately, the Church today, as it is in every age, is not as whole as our Lord would have us be. Today, we have countless denominations, and almost all of the denominations are in turmoil. In some ages the unity of the Church has been worse; in other ages better. But the Christian calling, today and in every age, is to promote unity and harmony where we can, and chiefly for us, that's in our parish family. I am going to mention briefly four qualities that build unity in the Church.

First, unity comes from a strong commitment to a common purpose. For Christians, our most important calling is to love Christ and one another, to make his love known in the world, to grow in love so that our character continually changes and matures, so that our lives become more full of joy. That is our common purpose. Every Christian has a tendency to lose focus of our essential Christian duty, but we have to remember that everything else is secondary, at best.

Second, unity does not come from papering over differences, from pretending that disagreements don't exist. For real unity begins in honesty, in sincerity, in authenticity - not in ignoring problems. The letter to the Ephesians says, "Put away the lie. Every one must speak the truth to his neighbor for we are members of one body." (Eph 4:25) In other words, be frank with people. It's basic courtesy and respect. Healthy, deep human relationships require honest and frequent communication.

Third, unity comes from humility, not from feelings of superiority. We're Christians due to God's grace, our good fortune - not because we deserve it. We don't. Our faith, the Blessed Sacrament, is a gift freely given, and we are not worthy to receive it. Our Christian faith and practice does not make us superior others; it does not make God love us more. The unhappiest people are those who feel they've not received what they deserved in life. Christians know that everything we have is a gift. S. Paul told the Philippians, "Do nothing from selfishness or conceit, but in humility count others better than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others." (Phil 2:3-4) Humility is one of the supreme marks of so many war heroes, and it should be of Christians as well.

Fourth, unity requires us to respect our differences and not to tolerate our grudges. Private Sakato was treated like the enemy, but he did not allow that to diminish him. He did not allow it to sever him from his country. It is incredible to be held captive at gunpoint on a base where you are preparing for battle and then to go out on the battlefield and risk everything for the people who don't trust you, who don't respect you, who haven't treated you properly. Heroes don't respond to insult with insult. Heroes don't sink to discourtesy; they are Christ-like, that is they serve and sacrifice for people who have treated them poorly, even detestably.

In receiving the Blessed Sacrament, in following the Blessed Sacrament out into the world, we are holding up our hope for unity for the Church, indeed for all of humanity. We have to nurture these four qualities: commitment to Jesus and spreading the gospel; honesty - frank communication; humility; respect for one another. We hold these up as our standard for our common life, and we witness to them as we follow our Lord in his Blessed Sacrament.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

1. Stories cited are from 'American Valor: Stories of Valor,' PBS online.

2. Lt. Baker's story includes: "During that engagement I was abandoned by my company commander. Who told me that he was going back for reinforcements, while we were in the midst of a hellfire engagement up there on the hill and it made me all the more determined to accomplish our mission. Because at that time the army was segregated, it was thought that we weren't able to fight. That we were cowards. Because we were black. And then when our company commander, who abandoned us went back and told our battalion commander not to worry about us because we were washed out, or wiped away - I didn't find all this out until after everything was over with. And what made me really angry was the fact that nobody gave us any word of encouragement or any words of thanks. When I went back to regimental headquarters to turn in the dog tags of the 19 men that I'd left up on that hill there I was chewed out by the regimental commander Colonel Sherman himself, because I wasn't wearing a steel helmet." Lt. Baker received the medal of honor in 1997.

3. Eamon Duffy, The Stripping of the Altars, Yale (1992), p. 92, et. al.

4. 'Thou, who at thy first Eucharist did pray,' William Harry Turton, first published in Altar Hymnal, 1884.