Walking With The Word
Feast Of Corpus Christi
The Bread That Finds Us
Deuteronomy 8:2–3, 14b–16a
In the First Reading for Corpus Christi, Moses asks the people to remember.
Remember the desert.
Remember the hunger.
Remember the long road.
Remember the God who fed you when you could not feed yourself.
Maybe we know something about that kind of remembering.
Most of us have had wilderness places in our lives.
Seasons when we felt
tired,
uncertain,
stripped down,
or afraid.
Times when the things we usually depended on were not enough,
and we had to learn, slowly perhaps, t
hat we do not live by bread alone.
and we had to learn, slowly perhaps, t
hat we do not live by bread alone.
But the desert was not empty of God.
The people were hungry,
but they were not abandoned.
They were humbled,
but they were not forgotten.
They walked through a place where they could not provide for themselves,
and there God met them with bread for the journey.
Maybe that is why this reading feels so tender on the feast of Corpus Christi.
We do not come to the Eucharistic table as people who have everything figured out.
We come with hidden hungers.
Hunger for peace.
Hunger for healing.
Hunger for direction.
Hunger for forgiveness.
Hunger for a love that will not leave us when life becomes difficult.
God knows those hungers.
He knew them in the desert.
He knows them in us.
The manna was not grand or elaborate.
It came quietly, day by day, enough for the next step.
Enough to remind God’s people that they were still being led.
Enough to show them that even in a barren place,
God could still provide.
And now, on this feast, we remember something even more beautiful.
God does not only feed His people from a distance.
He comes close.
He gives us Himself.
So maybe today, as we walk with this Word together,
we can bring Him the places in us that feel dry or hungry.
Not polished.
Not explained.
Just offered.
And perhaps, in the silence of receiving Him, we may hear again:
I have led you.
I have fed you.
You are still mine