Remember

A Reflection on the Second Reading for June 19th, 2022
The Solemnity of The Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ

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1 Corinthians
11.23-26

Brothers and sisters: I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my Body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”

In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my Blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.”

For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.
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“Do this in remembrance of me.”


I have not had a person I love die suddenly or tragically, but I am close to a number of people that have. For each, the desire to keep the memory of the deceased alive is a common element of their loss. 

Doing so takes many forms. My sister-in-law, who unexpectedly lost her best friend of decades, finds speaking about her beloved one helps. She writes frequently about her, paying tribute to her online, or comments on her in everyday conversation. For another sister-in-law, the sudden loss of her husband’s brother led her family to intentionally seek out relationships with those involved in her brother-in-law's life. 

Whatever way we engage this, it is our way of saying, this mattered. This person, this event, this thing I experienced, has significantly impacted my life, and it is important to not forget. It has made me, in part, who I am.

Today, Jesus bids us to do the same. But there are two differences between how we commemorate his death, and how we choose to express our own personal losses.

The first is that He gives us specific direction on how to remember Him before 
He dies. It’s important enough to Him that He gives us a literal demonstration (at the Last Supper). We are to eat His flesh and drink His blood, “For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.” 

Think about that. Everytime we receive communion, our actions proclaim: Jesus died for me. Jesus died. And it is important to me. What happened matters. It has changed me. I am not the same.

Secondly, and perhaps more perplexingly, is the fact that consuming a consecrated host brings us so close to Jesus that He becomes part of us.

Death usually separates us from the ones we love. If you have lost someone, how often have you thought, “If I could, I would do anything to have them with me again?” Our ways of remembering express our longing for their presence. We want to draw them close, to bring them near, to be a part of finding meaning in our lives thereafter. But as healing or comforting as these acts can be, they cannot bring someone back, or return things to how they once were. In faith, we know all losses will be reconciled, and all things brought back together. But for now, we are insurmountingly and heartbreakingly apart. 

Jesus’ death is different. In dying, Jesus defies separation. In fact, He could not be closer. He is within us, giving us wholly His body, blood and life; taking on our flesh. He is so present to me that I can touch Him, and He is touching me.  

It is His death that consumes us into Himself. It is a mystery I cannot fathom and do not understand. But I long for it, and must remember it. Not only because He has told me to do so, but because who He is, and what He has done, has made all the difference in my life. 

I am not the same. And so, I remember.



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​Michelynne Gomez
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