I read recently that filming is going to begin next year

on the fifth Indiana Jones movie.

I guess everybody knows who Indiana Jones is,

the swashbuckling archaeologist,

who goes in search of artifacts

like the Ark of the Covenant.

Well there’s a scene in the third Indiana Jones movie, The Last Crusade,

that can speak to us today

as we celebrate Corpus Christi, the Body and Blood of Christ.

In The Last Crusade, Indiana Jones has spent the entire movie

searching for the Holy Grail,

the chalice that Jesus is supposed to have used at the Last Supper.

The Nazis are also searching for it,

because it’s rumored to grant immortality to whoever drinks from it,

and they want this powerful artifact for the war.

At the end of the movie,

Indiana Jones is the first one to reach the secret location

where the Grail has been protected throughout the centuries

by a guardian knight.

But when Indiana Jones gets there,

he discovers that the Grail is hiding

among dozens of chalices of various shapes and sizes.

Which one is the true Grail?

Before he has a chance to choose one,

his rival appears, a guy named Walter Donovan.

Donovan is wealthy and influential, and working with the Nazis,

but he doesn’t know much about archaeology.

So while he holds Indy at gunpoint

his assistant Elsa chooses the most beautiful and ornate

of all the chalices

for him to drink from.

“Oh yes,” Donovan says,

“it’s more beautiful than I’d ever imagined.

This is certainly the cup of the King of Kings.”

Eager to gain the gift of immortality,

he fills it with water and drinks from it.

Bad idea.

Instead of gaining immortality,

Donovan begins to age rapidly, older and older and older,

until he finally collapses into a heap of dust and is blown away in the wind.

The Guardian of the Grail says,

“He chose…poorly.”

And now it’s Indiana Jones’ turn,

and he begins to examine the chalices one by one.

From among all the gold and jewel-encrusted chalices that remain,

he selects a simple, dusty, earthenware cup.

“That’s the cup of a carpenter,” he says,

and then Indiana Jones drinks from it.

The Guardian says, “He…has chosen wisely.”

Indiana Jones has found the true Holy Grail.

The meaning is pretty clear.

God works through humble, ordinary things.

When Jesus chose the Twelve,

he did not go to the temple

and choose the most famous rabbis

or the most accomplished scholars.

He went to the workplace

and chose ordinary fishermen.

In today’s gospel,

when the Twelve approach Jesus about the large crowd being hungry,

he says “give them some food yourselves.”

Their simple, ordinary food of bread and fish are sufficient

when blessed by God:

“They all ate and were satisfied.”

Ordinary bread and fish.

Jesus himself comes not as a mighty warrior messiah or wealthy king,

but as a humble carpenter’s son.

God works through humble, ordinary things and people.

Fishermen, not pharisees.

Bread, not caviar.

The cup of a carpenter, not of a king.

On this Solemnity of Corpus Christi,

we are reminded

that in every Eucharist,

it is the simple gifts of the earth,

that the Spirit changes into the Body and Blood of Christ.

And not only ordinary things like bread, wine, and fish,

but also ordinary people like you and me.

God wants to take the ordinary, simple moments of our lives

and turn them into Eucharist for the world.

At every Eucharist,

we take what we have been given by God—

bread, wine, our life situations, our very selves.

We bring them all to this altar

and we do what Jesus did.

We bless God, give thanks, and through divine, self-giving love,

we share the gift of Christ himself.

When we come up to communion,

our “Amen” is a commitment to become what we eat and drink:

The Body of Christ broken in service,

the Blood of Christ poured out in love.

What do you have to offer as nourishment

that makes Christ present in our midst?

A smile, a handshake, a hug?

It can be as profound as a deep conversation with a friend,

or as simple as a wave of the hand.

When I woke up on the first day of school last fall, I was very nervous.

As many of you know, this year I started a new job at a different school.

It had been twenty-seven years since I had last changed jobs.

As I drove to school that first day, my stomach was in knots,

I was all jittery, I was nervous.

I had left the house early in the morning

and was driving down Myrtle Street to get to 29th Avenue.

Up ahead on Myrtle I saw an older man out for a morning walk,

and as I drove by he turned and waved at me.

I didn’t know why he waved,

but I waved back anyway, just to return the greeting.

That exchange of waves actually helped me relax;

it was nice to get a wave from someone.

It made me feel good,

and was a great start to my day and my year.

It was a real moment of grace for me.

The next day as I drove to work he was out walking again,

and again he waved to me.

After a few days, I realized that he waves at everyone who drives by him,

and I saw him almost every morning during the school year.

Now that school is out and my schedule is different

I miss seeing him.

I don’t know his name, I don’t know where he lives,

yet each morning I saw him,

Christ’s grace was present

through that simple, ordinary gesture,

that attempt to connect as fellow human beings.

Our days are filled with little opportunities like that,

invitations to let the moments of our lives

be blessed by God and become Eucharist.

Today we come before the altar

and, along with the gifts of bread and wine,

we bring ourselves and our lives as gifts to God,

and God turns them into the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ

as food that satisfies hungry hearts.

The Solemnity of Corpus Christi celebrates the Body and Blood of Christ

made present among us,

and reminds us

that we don’t really need to search for the Holy Grail.

For an archaeologist like Indiana Jones,

finding the chalice Christ used at the Last Supper

is literarily and figuratively finding the Holy Grail.

But for us who are believers,

the Holy Grail is not hard to find.

Every chalice used at every Mass is a Holy Grail,

because it is Christ in the person of the priest

who consecrates the bread and wine,

the same Christ who held up the earthenware cup

at the Last Supper.

And when we say come forward at communion and say “Amen”

as we receive the Body and Blood of Christ,

we each become, in a sense, a Holy Grail,

It’s as St. Paul says in the second letter to the Corinthians:

We hold a “treasure in earthen vessels.”

We are the earthenware chalice

offering Christ to a thirsty world.

We become

the Cup of the Carpenter.

On this Solemnity of Corpus Christi

as the simple gifts of bread and wine

become the Body and Blood of Christ,

may we offer ourselves to God,

the simple and ordinary moments of our lives,

giving them to him as gifts

to be blessed and transformed into nourishment

for a hungry and thirsty world.