Priest Update…forgiveness please for the lack of blogging…

So, after I got back from Philadelphia I went on retreat. I just got back yesterday. It didn’t work out quite as I planned (more relaxing than spiritual, for my taste) but that is what God had for me.

So now after spending a week with my brother and a week on retreat, I am home with my family for a few days before I have to go back to Michigan. Actually, I’ll be glad to get back to the parish. I miss my people.

I’ll also spend some time with my friends in Washington. Another little project I may have to tackle down here in D.C. is buying a car. Boo! Hiss! After 10 years and 142000 miles my little Saturn is falling apart and is becoming many times more expensive to maintain than it is worth. (BTW, it’s worth about $200, pretty pathetic. It costs more than that to insure it each year.) So I might have a line on a car dealer down here who will give a priest a break on another simple, reliable car. We’ll see. I’m sure all of you are on the edge of your seat over this one. ;-)

And just in case anyone didn’t know…it's official...I'm being transferred...

I'm moving from St. Thomas Aquinas, East Lansing to St. Thomas the Apostle, Ann Arbor. These parishes are analogous to each other in almost every way; both are highly academic environments...lots of professors, students, lawyers, judges, doctors...professionals all around. Stimulating to be sure.

It is difficult to describe what this means to me. In many ways this is like a death for a priest, and particularly for this priest, because St. Thomas Aquinas has been my full-time family for three years. This is even doubly true since my biological family lives several hundred miles (500+) away from me. So I give my heart away just that much more. I have bonded myself wholeheartedly (as much as a selfish prig like me can do that) to my people at St. Thomas Aquinas. Of course, in the process I have received 100 fold back. God is never outdone in generosity. To leave them will hurt (already does) enormously.

Of course, this is all part of the life. The people need to trust in Jesus, not in His pathetic priests. There is a danger when the people get overly attached to a priest and mistake the sacrament for the Savior. So transfers are good. Besides, Christianity is not about self-growth, it's about self-death. It's not exercise, it's surgery. It's not something "in me...in my experience" rather it is something that I am in. (Peter Kreeft) I will have to pick up the cross, suffer, and trust in Jesus, the only source of hope. Of course, I don't want to go to Calvary, I'd much prefer to go to Disney World. Or at least stay in East Lansing. ;-)

My new assignment, while painful to accept, will be good. I came to Michigan to go to U of M in Ann Arbor. I've lived with my new pastor before (Fr. Roger Prokop, IMHO, he is the best priest in the diocese). He invited me to live in the rectory when I was in graduate school because I was thinking about a return to the seminary at that time. He's an all-around great guy. It will be a good move, but still sad.

Oh, and just in case anyone is wondering, I don't physically move until June 30. Of course, mentally, I've been anticipating this exact move since the bishop told me in December.

Where is that priest???

I'm on vacation...Which is why I haven't posted in a few days. I was at my mother's home for a few days, then I went to Ocean City Maryland with my brother, now I am in Philadelphia visiting some friends. As soon as I get in front of a computer for any length of time, I will post something real.

Easter 2004

A poet once described the human condition as a woman giving birth to her child while straddled over a grave. This morbid image: a mother giving birth over a grave, depicts a grim truth about life: even at birth we are headed for death. In contrast, Aldous Huxley describes the contemporary attitude towards death when he says how human beings, “Behave as though death were no more than an unfounded rumor.” Eugene Levine made the point this way, “We are all dead men on leave.”

Some of us have more direct experience with death than others. Some have lost parents, friends, brothers and sisters. I myself lost my father when I was barely 5 years old. My point is this: all of us must accept the grim reality of human life: we are going to lose family, friends and colleagues to death and one day each of us will have to face it personally. As the psalmist says, “Our span is 70 years or 80 for those who are strong, and most of these are emptiness and pain, they pass away swiftly and we are gone.”

The faithful women in the Gospel had resigned themselves to Jesus’ death. A few days earlier they had come face to face with the gruesomely bloody and horrible execution of Jesus as a common criminal. Now, according to Jewish customs, the women were coming to pay last respects to a corpse.

And what about the apostles? To them, everything had finished in tragedy. Indeed, in Luke’s Gospel when the women claimed that the tomb was empty, the disciples thought is “seemed like nonsense.” This is the only place in the New Testament where this word “nonsense” occurs. The Greek word lyros appears in Ancient Greek medical literature; it’s a word used to describe the babbling of a fevered and insane mind. The disciples regarded the report of the empty tomb as rambling madness. Of course it was nonsense; they knew Jesus was dead.

The most haunting line from the resurrection account is, “He has risen. He is not here.” St. Paul makes the point with his usual candor, “If Christ be not risen from the dead our faith is in vain and we have committed perjury before God and men we are the most miserable of men for we are still in our sins.”

It has been said that all of mathematics rises or falls with the truth of one proposition: that zero is not equal to one. It has been said that all of philosophy rises or falls with the truth of one proposition: that knowledge can be gained from experience. It is a certain truth that all of Christianity rises or falls with one fundamental truth: that on the first day of the week, in the silent hours before dawn, Jesus Christ rose triumphantly from the dead.

But how do we know Christ rose from the dead? There are at least 3 ways we can know the truth of the resurrection. First, the scriptures themselves report the testimony of eyewitnesses and their testimony is trustworthy. These witness proclaim to us what they have seen, heard and touched. Secondly, a great proof of the resurrection is the existence of the Christian Church. Only Jesus Christ risen from the dead could have turned sad, despairing, and fearful men and women into people on fire with love and courage. The best proof is personal experience. Jesus is not another figure to be merely studied, or remembered. Jesus is a living person, a presence with us right now, to be encountered and loved. Jesus is not merely a pattern or example; He is our brother, our friend, our helper and personal guide. We encounter him tangibly, physically, personally in the Eucharist.

The resurrection of Jesus is the central truth of the faith. Why? Because Jesus Christ is God in the flesh. Jesus is not merely a man in time; he is the eternal God, the second person of the Blessed Trinity. When Jesus died, we can truly say, God died. And when God took on death, death was defeated. Through the resurrection, evil’s back has been broken; the power of sin is destroyed; the chasm that separated man from God has been spanned.

The gates of heaven are open.

But there is more. Jesus has not only defeated death, he has transformed death. Sin and death entered the world when Adam and Eve fell in the garden. St. John’s gospel reports that the empty tomb of Christ was in a garden. In a garden, Christ, by His resurrection, has made death a victory. Death, for the Christian is the final imitation of Christ. Jesus died, and rose, so the Christian’s death is a final holy imitation of the Master.

We should have no fear of death. Jesus has gone before us, as St. Paul says, “If we have died with Christ, we will rise with him.” Death is the Christian’s final share in Jesus’ passion. If we have shared in His passion, we will share in His victory. Or as St. Paul put it, “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?”

(I have no specific citations but I’m certain Dr. Scott Hahn, Dr. Peter Kreeft, Fr. Benedict Groeschel and Fr. James Hudgins have thoughts marbled throughout this text.)

From an ancient homily for Holy Saturday

Something strange is happening - there is a great silence on earth today, a great silence and stillness. The whole earth keeps silence because the King is asleep. The earth trembled and is still because God has fallen asleep in the flesh and he has raised up all who have slept ever since the world began. God has died in the flesh and hell trembles with fear.

He has gone to search for our first parent, as for a lost sheep. Greatly desiring to visit those who live in darkness and in the shadow of death, he has gone to free from sorrow the captives Adam and Eve, he who is both God and the son of Eve. The Lord approached them bearing the cross, the weapon that had won him the victory. At the sight of him Adam, the first man he had created, struck his breast in terror and cried out to everyone: “My Lord be with you all”. Christ answered him: “And with your spirit”. He took him by the hand and raised him up, saying: “Awake, O sleeper, and rise from the dead, and Christ will give you light”.

I am your God, who for your sake have become your son. Out of love for you and for your descendants I now by my own authority command all who are held in bondage to come forth, all who are in darkness to be enlightened, all who are sleeping to arise. I order you, O sleeper, to awake. I did not create you to be held a prisoner in hell. Rise from the dead, for I am the life of the dead. Rise up, work of my hands, you who were created in my image. Rise, let us leave this place, for you are in me and I am in you; together we form only one person and we cannot be separated. For your sake I, your God, became your son; I, the Lord, took the form of a slave; I, whose home is above the heavens, descended to the earth and beneath the earth. For your sake, for the sake of man, I became like a man without help, free among the dead. For the sake of you, who left a garden, I was betrayed to the Jews in a garden, and I was crucified in a garden.

See on my face the spittle I received in order to restore to you the life I once breathed into you. See there the marks of the blows I received in order to refashion your warped nature in my image. On my back see the marks of the scourging I endured to remove the burden of sin that weighs upon your back. See my hands, nailed firmly to a tree, for you who once wickedly stretched out your hand to a tree.

I slept on the cross and a sword pierced my side for you who slept in paradise and brought forth Eve from your side. My side has healed the pain in yours. My sleep will rouse you from your sleep in hell. The sword that pierced me has sheathed the sword that was turned against you.
Rise, let us leave this place. The enemy led you out of the earthly paradise. I will not restore you to that paradise, but I will enthrone you in heaven. I forbade you the tree that was only a symbol of life, but see, I who am life itself am now one with you. I appointed cherubim to guard you as slaves are guarded, but now I make them worship you as God. The throne formed by cherubim awaits you, its bearers swift and eager. The bridal chamber is adorned, the banquet is ready, the eternal dwelling places are prepared, the treasure houses of all good things lie open. The kingdom of heaven has been prepared for you from all eternity.

A Good Friday Meditation

At the very end of time, just before the last judgment, all the peoples who had ever lived were assembled together before the throne of God, and they began to talk to one another. And they learned that despite their many differences, they all had one thing in common—they all knew what it meant to suffer. And as they continued to talk, their conversation became a murmur. Because regardless of which nation had been their home, or which religion had been their faith, or which century they had lived in, they all began to ask the same question: If God is all powerful, and God is all good, then why has He allowed such evil to occur down through the centuries?

One by one, the groups stepped forward to speak. There was a group of Jews there. Some had been persecuted; others had died in the concentration camps. And they asked, “Why did God allow this to happen?” Next came a group of slaves. Men and women who had been bought and sold like property, shackled and branded like cattle, families that had been torn apart and abused, and they asked, “Why?” Next came a group of refugees, countless numbers of homeless humanity, who had been driven from their lands, made to live in fear, with nowhere to rest their heads, and they said, “Why?” And countless hundreds of other groups appeared as well, the sick, the deaf, the lame, the blind, those who had been abused and persecuted, and each of them in their own turn asked, “Why did God allow such evil?”

And gathering together, they formed a delegation. Each group would draw up a charge on which to indict Almighty God. Before He could judge them, they would judge Him. And this was their verdict—that God should know what it is like to live on this earth. And that He should be given no special privileges because of His divinity to protect Him.

There specific demands were as follows:

Let Him be born a Jew, that He might know what it is like to be a member of an oppressed race.

Let Him be born poor, that He might know what it is like to live in the agony of continual need.

Let Him know what it is like to have to flee His own homeland for the sake of His life.

Let Him know the burden of hard labor.

Let Him know what it feels like to be rejected by the ones you love.

Let Him know what it is like to be betrayed by a friend, indicted on false charges, convicted by a prejudiced jury, sentenced by a corrupt and cowardly judge.

Let Him know what it is like to be abandoned, alone, tortured.

Let Him know what it is like to die in shame.

And as each sentence was read, a roar of thunderous approval surged forth from a vindictive and broken humanity. One by one the charges were read, and the raucous approval rose to fever pitch, and the whole of humanity turned towards the throne of God. And suddenly, all of heaven was split by a penitential silence, because where there had once been a throne, there was now only a cross. (Adapted from a text by Andrew Armstrong)

Of course, that’s just a parable. But it touches on the greatest mystery of human life: why does God allow evil to occur? As a priest, I have faced that question perhaps more than any other. The wife who looses her husband to a sudden illness and death asks, “Why!!??” The mother weeping in a hospital room watching her infant child inch closer to death demands, “Why!!??” Why does God allow such evil to occur?

I do not believe the human mind is capable, or human lips competent to explain a perfectly satisfactory answer to that question. God Himself did not send us an answer to that question. He did not send us an explanation.

He sent us His Son. And in the cross of Jesus Christ we find the only answer to the great question. The answer is not a philosophy. The answer is not a proposition. It is not an ideology. It is not an opinion. The answer to the mystery of suffering is a person. The answer to the mystery of suffering is not a something it’s a someone…our Lord Jesus Christ.

In the cross of Christ we find a God who is compassionate. When God became a man, He took upon Himself our full human nature, so that there is nothing that anyone has ever suffered that He Himself did not bear. When Christ took up his cross, He bore the weight of our sins, and suffered them as if they were His own.

It was not the wood which weighed down our Lord Jesus Christ. It was our sins. It was not the nails, or the thorns which caused Him pain. It was rather the mysterium iniquitatis, the mystery of evil. In the cross of Christ we discover that we were not made for this world. Our true home is in heaven.

And finally, and perhaps most important of all, in the cross of Christ we see that God in His infinite wisdom has deemed it better that good might come out of evil than that evil not exist at all. The greatest crime in history bore the greatest fruit—the crucifixion of Christ won us the forgiveness of our sins.

We know that every time we go to the cross with Christ on Good Friday, we rise with Him on Easter Sunday. Suffering is never without hope. And so on this Friday we come forward and kiss His cross with our lips.

“We adore you O Christ and we praise you. Because by your holy Cross you have redeemed the world.”

And we call this Friday “Good.”

(Special thanks to Rev. James C. Hudgins for inspiration and content behind this post.)

Anticipation…

Ok, sarcasm from a priest is not pretty, but it’s very mild, tongue in cheek and delivered with a wink and a smile.

So here’s the rest of my post on John 6 and the Eucharist. I cover a few Protestants who agree with the Catholic interpretation (although most mainstream Protestant commentators would not deny it). Then I offer a few patristic comments.

John 6 and the Eucharist Part II

In spite of the skepticism by some Fundamentalists, not all Protestants reject the Eucharistic nature of John 6. Protestant early Church historian J.N.D. Kelly writes, “Eucharistic teaching, it should be understood at the outset, was in general unquestioningly realist, i.e., the consecrated bread and wine were taken to be, and were treated and designated as, the Savior's body and blood.” Martin Copenhaver, a Congregationalist Pastor, sees the entire Johannine passage in a classically Catholic way. Copenhaver recognizes that John’s language in John 6 is “in your face.” He rightly points out that in the Hebrew idiom “flesh and blood” means the whole person. Thus to receive Jesus’ “flesh and blood” is to receive the whole Jesus. Copenhaver admits that John’s account is “starkly corporeal.”(9) So the Catholic reading of John 6 has been embraceable by at least some Protestants.

Dr. Scott Hahn, the famous Evangelical convert to Catholicism came to similar conclusions as a Presbyterian minister. Dr. Hahn recounts how after careful review of John 6 in the original Greek, he had to cancel his sermon series on the Gospel of John in chapter 5.(10) For Dr. Hahn, the consequences of Jesus’ words in John were too much for a Presbyterian congregation to bear. Dr. Hahn did however, describe his conclusions concerning John 6 to a group of seminary graduate students. After Dr. Hahn’s students reviewed the text, they too came to the conclusion that Jesus said what he meant in John 6, and that this was not metaphorical language. For Scott Hahn, John’s 6th chapter was a crucial turning point in his journey to Catholicism. Thus we see that even someone from a more Fundamentalist/Evangelical tradition can read John 6 as Christians did for 1400 years before the Protestant Reformation. The vast majority of contemporary biblical scholarship reads John 6 as Eucharistic.

The body of Patristic commentary on the 4th Gospel is somewhat modest, however, it is not negligible. A brief review a few Patristic texts is in order. Hopefully the Patristic writers can help situate both the sacrament and the Gospel within the seminal Church. The importance of the Patristic period can hardly be overstated.(11) Consideration of these commentaries could, and probably should take precedence over contemporary scholarship. Nevertheless, since it is impossible to cover everything, this sampling of the Patristics must suffice.

Ignatius of Antioch, who was a disciple of the apostles Peter, John and Paul wrote an epistle to the Smyrnaeans about A.D. 110. The epistle reads, referring to “those who hold heterodox opinions," that "they abstain from the Eucharist and from prayer, because they do not confess that the Eucharist is the flesh of our Savior Jesus Christ, flesh which suffered for our sins and which the Father, in his goodness, raised up again.” (6:2; 7:1)(12) This text, which comes on the coattails of the Apostolic era, equates belief in the real presence with orthodoxy. Doubtless this text affirms the early Church’s belief in the real presence. Fortunately, it is not isolated, many other quotations could be provided.

In his Epistle to the Romans (110 A.D.), Ignatius tenderly described his faith in the Eucharist.

I have no delight in corruptible food, nor in the pleasures of this life. I desire the bread of God, the heavenly bread, the bread of life, which is the flesh of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who became afterwards of the seed of David and Abraham; and I desire the drink of God, namely His blood, which is incorruptible love and eternal life…Take ye heed, then, to have but one Eucharist. For there is one flesh of our lord Jesus Christ, and one cup to [show forth] the unity of his blood…; one altar of sacrifice; as there is one bishop, along with the presbytery and deacons.

Four decades later, St. Justin Martyr, wrote,

Not as common bread or common drink do we receive these; but since Jesus Christ our Savior was made incarnate by the word of God and had both flesh and blood for our salvation, so too, as we have been taught, the food which has been made into the Eucharist by the Eucharistic prayer set down by him, and by the change of which our blood and flesh is nourished,…is both the flesh and the blood of that incarnated Jesus.(First Apology 66:1-20).(13)

These words from St. Justin Martyr, while not a direct commentary on John 6, reflect the evangelical language which has been discussed throughout these posts. Similarly, as with Ignatius of Antioch, this quotation affirms this early father’s belief in the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist. Certainly Justin’s commentary also echoes the opinion of the early Christian community.

Notes:

(9) Copenhaver, Martin, “Receiving Jesus,” The Christian Century. July 27-August 3, 1994, p 719.
(10) Hahn, Scott, My Conversion Story, Unpublished Lecture, Ann Arbor, Michigan, October, 1997.
(11) Cross, F. L. and E. A. Livingstone, The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, 3d. ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997), p 1233.
(12)Ignatius of Antioch, Epistle to the Smyrnaeans (6:2; 7:1).
(13) Justin Martyr, First Apology 66:1-20.

Ok, ready for ANOTHER long post???

Well, in one week we will be celebrating Holy Thursday, a day when, among other things, we commemorate Jesus' instituting the Eucharist. So with that theme in mind, here is Part I of a post on John's Gospel, chapter 6 and the Eucharist. Next week I will post some Patristic commentary on John 6 as well as the thoughts of some Protestant scholars who agree with the traditional Catholic interpretation of this text.

John 6 and the Eucharist

Many Fundamentalist commentators on John 6 assert that the "I am the bread of life" passage fits into a pattern of "I am" discourses throughout the 4th Gospel. They cite John 8:12 ("I am the light of the world"), John 10:9 ("I am the door"), John 10:12 ("I am the good shepherd") and John 15:1 ("I am the true vine") and claim that all of these texts are metaphorical explanations of Jesus' identity. (1) If this were the end of these Protestant exegetes' comments, their conclusion could fit within the mainstream of Christian Biblical interpretation. Indeed, Jesus' expression "I am" (Ego eimi) is ubiquitous in the Gospel of John. (2)

However, most Fundamentalists do not stop there. They insist that since Christ commonly speaks metaphorically in His "I am" statements, certainly the discourse in John 6 is correspondingly, 100 percent metaphorical. Unquestionably, the statements: "I am the door" and "I am the vine" can be interpreted metaphorically since Jesus is like a door--we enter eternal life through Him--and He is also like a vine--without His "spiritual sap" we wither and die. However, the interpretation of John 6 is crucial since for Catholics it deals with the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist. The doctrine of the Eucharist is a bedrock teaching for Catholic theology and worship. The interpretation of John 6 is, therefore momentous.

Most Catholic commentators, following the Patristic tradition, have seen a great deal more than metaphor in John 6. The Catholic tradition has always interpreted the "Bread of Life" discourse as Eucharistic.

In John 6:35 Jesus begins the "bread of life" discourse saying, "I am the bread of life; he who comes to me shall not hunger, and he who believes in me shall never thirst...For I have come down from heaven." (John 6: 35, 38a) Jesus' Jewish audience "murmured at him, because he said, 'I am the bread which came down from heaven.' They said, 'Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know?' How does he now say, 'I have come down from heaven?'" (John 6:41-42)

Jesus' immediate response is "Do not murmur among yourselves." (John 6:43) To emphasize His point Jesus repeats himself: "'I am the living bread which came down from heaven; if any one eats of this bread, he will live for ever; and the bread which I shall give for the life of the world is my flesh.' The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, 'How can this man give us his flesh to eat?'" (John 6:51-52).

The "common sense" interpretation of this passage is that Jesus' audience was stupefied because they had understood Jesus literally--and accurately. This is also the Catholic interpretation. However, the message was received with difficulty because the teaching did not seem to make sense to Jewish ears. Nevertheless, Jesus repeats Himself, with even stronger emphasis; He also adds the statement about drinking His blood. Jesus continues,

Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, you have no life in you; he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. For my flesh is food indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. (John 6:53-56)

Clearly, Jesus does not attempt to lessen what He said; there is no attempt to amend "misunderstandings."

It seems too difficult to deny that Jesus said what He meant and meant what He said in John 6. The Jews understood Him completely; they simply did not agree with the teaching. However, they certainly did not understand Him to be speaking metaphorically. Indeed, Jesus does not attempt to correct their understanding. It is clear that on other occasions when there was perplexity, the Lord explained His meaning (cf. Matthew 16:5-12). In fact, rather than correct Himself, Jesus recapitulated the offensive language, with greater intensity.

The verses which follow confirm the foregoing analysis. In John 6:60, 66 we read: "Many of his disciples, when they heard it, said, 'This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?' After this, many of his disciples drew back and no longer went about with him." So here we have Jesus, uncompromising in His doctrinal teaching to the point where He is willing to risk losing his disciples. Indeed, this is an unusual instance where Jesus is unyielding on a doctrinal point. In fact, it is the only record we have of any of Christ's followers forsaking Him for purely doctrinal reasons. (3) Finally, Jesus turns to the 12 apostles, His hand picked friends and confidants. What does He say to them? Does He ask, "Where did I lose them? Where did I go wrong?" No. On the contrary, Jesus solemnly asks in John 6:67 "Will you also go away?" Thus here is Jesus so firm in His teaching that he is willing to risk losing the 12 apostles. Finally, John 6:64 asserts that the one who did not believe his teaching would betray him. Thus, Judas the betrayer is linked to unbelief in the "Bread of Life" discourse.

The foregoing analysis is a brief overview of the "Bread of Life" discourse in John 6. At first glance it seems that Jesus is not speaking metaphorically, and that His message has some connection to the Eucharist. But what about the details? Some Fundamentalists claim that Jesus was speaking about spiritual food and drink. Other Protestants claim that "coming" to Jesus is "bread" and "having faith" in the Lord is "drink." Thus for some Fundamentalists, eating His flesh and blood merely means believing in Jesus. (4) But what does that text really say? What is the meaning of the words? A closer look at the Greek should resolve these issues. The question to be asked is: do the Greek words in John suggest a literal/actual interpretive meaning, or a spiritual/metaphorical meaning? The following analysis will attempt to answer this question.

Speaking in the aggregate, Jesus repeats Himself twelve times in John 6 that He was "the bread that came down from heaven." Four times He claims that believers would have "to eat my flesh and drink my blood." The foregoing analysis suggested that it is difficult to deny that John 6 was an extended promise of what would be instituted at the Last Supper. But what is the timbre of the language? What does the Greek literally say? Can the English translation be somewhat deceiving? Will a closer look at the text support a Fundamentalist interpretation?

Two Greek words are found repeating in the text. In John 6:52 the infinitive "to eat" is the Greek verb phagein. Again in John 6:53 the same verb used for "you eat" is in Greek phagite. This verb is correctly translated into English by the words "eat, eat up, devour." (5) Phagein is a straightforward word. It literally means, "to eat." To add a spiritual or metaphorical meaning to this word would be eisegesis, "reading into" the text . This word has no overt spiritual, mystical or symbolic meanings. Any other translation, rendering or interpretation contradicts the original text. Similarly, the Greek word used for "drink" pinon is straightforward, and used repeatedly. It simply means, "drink." (6) Nothing more can be honestly read into this word. So far, we have not encountered anything helpful for a Fundamentalist.

However, another Greek word is used in John's Gospel which is translated in English as "eat." Can we learn anything from this word? The Greek word used for "eats" in John 6:54, 56, 57, and 58, is trogon. This word is used 4 times, which is twice as much as phagein. So what does trogon mean? The English repeats "eats" but in Greek it's a different word. Trogon is an extremely blunt word which has the sense of "chewing, gnawing, nibbling, or munching." The word smacks of herbivorous animals which have to perpetually chew their food. (7) Trogon is a graphic, earthy, pictorial word. This is not the language of metaphor. The fact that trogon is used more often that phagein is almost comical in its vividness. The fact that trogon is used in the text diminishes any hope the Fundamentalist may have had about this being metaphorical language. This language is strikingly literal. Indeed, since trogon is used so often this text is even more literal and vivid. The analysis of the New Testament Greek supports the Catholic interpretation and puts those who would deny it on paper-thin ice.

Many other things could be said about this text from John 6. However the line, "My flesh is true food, my blood is true drink" (John 6:55) is worthy of note. The Greek word alitis is often translated as "true, or indeed" and this is an accurate translation. (8) However, it only bolsters the Catholic understanding of John 6. The author grounds the text on literal bedrock with the repetition of the word alitis. This is the exact opposite of metaphor. The language in John 6 could not be more direct. So we have literal, graphic vocabulary in John 6, which opposes a metaphorical interpretation. Then we have the word alitis which roots the text even more strongly in the literal field.

(Look for Part II sometime next week! *Breath collectivly held*)

Notes:

(1) Keating, Carl, "The Eucharist," Catholic Answers Tract.
(2) Morrow, Stanley B. The Gospel of John: A Reading. New York: Paulist Press, 1995, p. 123 .
(3) Keating, Carl, Catholicism and Fundamentalism, Ignatius (San Francisco, CA, 1991) p. 123.
(4) Keating, Carl, "The Eucharist," Catholic Answers Tract.
(5) Liddell, Henry, and Robert Scott, A Greek-English Lexicon, Clarendon Press (Oxford, 1996) p. 1911.
(6) Ibid. p. 1406
(7) Ibid. p. 1832.
(8) Ibid. p. 63.