"Grab the Bull by the Horns"

After taking a weekend off last week to honor Mary, we now return to Jesus’ teaching on the Eucharist in what is called the Bread of Life Discourse, Chapter 6 of John’s gospel.

To help us understand what is happening in this passage, I want to start off with a rather goofy story.

One day I was standing on a road. I was just standing there, looking at something on the road up ahead. The thing I saw was a huge, mean-looking bull. And this bull was blocking my path. I knew that to keep moving I was going to have to get past that bull. It scared me just to think about it. For a long time, I stood still, looking at the bull, hoping and praying it would somehow move from my path so I could continue along the road. However, nothing changed, except I heard a distant voice whisper, “Do whatever it is you have to do in order to continue along the journey.”

That was the day I decided to take a deep breath, gather all the strength I could muster, and take the bull by the horns. I knew that in so doing I would have to accept whatever consequences followed—good, bad or indifferent. I set aside my doubts and fears and marched right up to that bull, grabbed those horns, and said, “All right, bull! You’ve got to get out of my way or fight with me—which will it be?”

Well, you’ll never believe what happened next! That crazy bull sat down right on the road, sighed, and spoke to me. “What took you so long getting here?” he asked. “I’ve been standing here waiting to offer you a ride. Hop up on my back and show me where it is you want to go.” What was considered an insurmountable problem turned out to be a great blessing instead. All that I needed was the courage to grab the bull by the horns.

Well, that’s kind of what’s happening in our Scripture readings today. Our first reading takes us to a transition time in the history of Israel. Moses and the older generation that came out of Egypt have died off, and now Joshua is the new leader and successor to Moses. Joshua realizes that he needs a commitment from the people, and so he “takes the bull by the horns” and, without mincing words, puts the stark choice the people have to make before them: “If it does not please you to serve the Lord, decide today whom you will serve, the gods your fathers served beyond the River or the gods of the Amorites in whose country you now dwell. As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.”

In this case, Joshua gets a positive response and commitment: “Far be it from us to forsake the Lord for the service of other gods.” They then refer to the freedom from slavery that God had given the people, and the many miracles that took place along the journey. So they “grabbed the bull by the horns” and declared their fidelity to the one true God.

In our gospel reading things have come to a turning point. Because Jesus has said that he is the Bread come down from heaven, and that they must consume his flesh to have eternal life, many have found this kind of talk to be too much for them to accept. And so many leave, refusing to be followers of Jesus any more.

Jesus then doesn’t back down. He, like Joshua hundreds of years before, grabs the bull by the horns. In the saddest question in the Bible, Jesus turns to the Twelve Apostles, those who have shared in his life and ministry, and asks, “Do you also want to leave?”

In this case, too, there is a positive response. Peter and the other Apostles have seen the powerful miracles Jesus has performed. They have heard his preaching and teaching. And so, Peter, speaking for the entire group says, “Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God.”

And now these readings are placed before us. It is our moment of decision, our opportunity to grab the bull by the horns. Jesus is asking us to think of him as a necessary part of our diet, to consume him, to receive life by being so deeply attached to his life that it’s as if we are digesting him so that he can be metabolized as acts of kindness, water for the thirsty, food for the hungry, shelter for the homeless and love for the unloved.

Think of what Jesus offers in this Bread of Life discourse! “Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has life eternal, and I will raise him or her up on the last day.” That’s what we’re offered here at the Table of the Lord, a steady diet of Jesus’ teaching and of Jesus himself, including his divinity, so that we will have eternal life.

Now, some people say they “get nothing out of the Mass.” That might be because they have not grabbed the bull by the horns, that is, they have not made a decision like Joshua or Peter. To them, and to all of us really, the question of Peter is now addressed: to whom shall we go? It is Jesus who offers the words of eternal life! Do you have a better alternative? To get something from the Mass you have to decide what you want, and what you most need, in life. To whom will you go? If it is Jesus you want, if it is eternal life you want, then decide to go for it. Come here starving for Jesus. Come here aching for every word he speaks. Open up your hungers, your hurts, your disappointments, your anxiety. Come with your questions. If you are bored, you don’t understand why we gather here. I’m not here to entertain you. I’m here to help feed you. But you have to show up hungry. So, grab the bull by the horns. What is it you want? What is it you need? What aches inside you? What feels empty? You are here as a participant, not a spectator. Let’s explore together. If there’s something you don’t understand, tell me. If I’m falling short, let me know what you need. But don’t come here thinking about what you’re going to have for lunch or dinner. Come here hungry for Jesus. Come here hungry for the words of eternal life. Come here hungry for the living bread come down from heaven. If you do that, God can feed you. But know this: God never forces himself on anyone. You have to want what God has to offer. Otherwise, God doesn’t stand a chance.

You might also like

Father's Homilies

Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Easter April 26, 2026

By Charlene Currie • May 7, 2026
Building Bridges, Not Walls. Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Easter April 26, 2026

Homily for the Third Sunday of Easter April 19, 2026

By Charlene Currie • April 25, 2026
Born to Look … Learning to See Homily for the Third Sunday of Easter April 19, 2026 The scoutmaster used to take his troops on hikes along wilderness nature trails. After each hike he would challenge the scouts to describe what they had observed on their excursion. The boys invariably hadn’t seen a fraction of what the scoutmaster had seen. He would wave his arms in great circles and shout, “Creation is all around you, but you are blocking it out. Stop wearing your raincoat in the shower. You were born to look, but you have to learn to see.” You were born to look, but you have to learn to see. One of the questions that always arises about today’s gospel passage is: Why didn’t the two disciples recognize Jesus? Let’s spend some time reflecting on the possibilities. One obvious answer is that they were disheartened. Their lives are at their lowest point. They are sad and confused. The one they had pinned their hopes on had been humiliated and crucified in a horrible way. How could such a disaster be anything but a total defeat? How could a Messiah, or Savior, allow himself to be beaten and put to death? In addition, the two disciples are probably terrorized, full of fear. The leaders of the people, both religious and political, had made their point. Anyone who rocks the boat and challenges authority will be dealt with swiftly and brutally. If the two were recognized as followers of Jesus, his fate could also be theirs. Let me share another story with you, a story which shows how expectations can color what we see and experience. ---------------------------------- A young man from a wealthy family was about to graduate from high school. It was the custom in his affluent neighborhood for the parents to give the graduate a car as a graduation present. Bill and his father spent months looking at cars, and the week before graduation they found the perfect one. Bill was certain that the car would be his on graduation night. Imagine Bill’s disappointment when, on the eve of the big day, his father handed him a gift-wrapped Bible! Bill was so angry, he hurled the Bible across the room and stormed out of the house, vowing never to return again. Bill and his father never saw each other again. Yet it was the news of his father’s death that brought Bill back home again. One night, as he sat going through his father’s possessions that he was to inherit, Bill came across the Bible that his father had given him. He brushed away the dust and opened it to find a cashier’s check, dated the day of his graduation—for the exact amount of the car they had chosen together. ------------------------------- As the scoutmaster said, “You are born to look, but you have to learn to see.” What does today’s gospel passage want us to learn to see? One obvious answer is that the privileged place to encounter Jesus is in the celebration of the Eucharist, or Mass. In the gospel Jesus does two things: he interprets the Scriptures and how they apply to him; and he “breaks bread” with the two disciples. We thus have the two halves of the Mass: the liturgy of the word and the liturgy of the Eucharist. The Bible is telling us where to look, and it is teaching us to learn to see. Like the cashier’s check in the Bible, Jesus’ presence is not always obvious or straightforward. So, where and how should we look? The first place is the Bible. We need to take time to read God’s word slowly, savor it, and allow it to speak to us. If you are having difficulty, a commentary will help. Turning to those who know the Bible better that we do, and asking for clarifications and advice, will also help. The second place of encounter with Jesus is the Eucharist. The mystery of Emmaus is that the disciples recognize Jesus in the “breaking of bread,” which was one of the phrases used for the celebration of the Eucharist. Try to enter the Mystery more and more by giving yourself totally, without distractions, to each part of the Mass. Savor what it means to gather with open minds and hearts; to listen to the message of Scripture, the inspired word of God; to take the message of the homily home with you and reflect on it; to ask for forgiveness and to pray for peace; to intercede for our needs and the needs of the whole world; to receive our Lord mindfully, and not just hurry through the motions. Finally, in the Emmaus story, Jesus approaches his people who are depressed, disappointed and broken-hearted. At first, they do not recognize him. But as they listen more and more, their hearts start to burn within them. So, another way to experience the presence of Jesus Christ is to do as he did, to find value in what he taught and how he acted. He clearly said that he could be found in the poor and vulnerable: I was hungry, and you gave me food; I was thirsty, and you gave me drink; I was naked, and you clothed me; I was ill, or in prison, or lonely, and you visited me. Today’s gospel gives us a blueprint for encountering Jesus and feeling his presence. But we have to give ourselves to it wholeheartedly. We were born to look, but we have to learn how to see. The Bible has a treasure in it, and it’s not a cashier’s check. The Eucharist has a presence in it, and it’s something more than bread. The people around us are children of God. They have a spark of the divine within them. We were born to look, but we have to learn how to see.

Homily for the Second Sunday of Easter April 12, 2026

By Charlene Currie • April 25, 2026
Will You Still Need Me? Homily for the Second Sunday of Easter April 12, 2026 One hot summer afternoon a woman was working strenuously, weeding her flower beds and pruning the plants. The flowers were especially magnificent. A passerby asked, “I really like those flowers—do you?” As she wiped perspiration from her face with a dirty hand, the woman’s weary response was, “Only when they bloom.” The passerby thought how many folks have a similar attitude toward church, family, work, or life in general—“I only like it when it is in full bloom and beautiful.” The passerby thought of those necessary times of hard work—mulching, weeding, cultivating, pruning and transplanting—as well as seasonal dormancy, which are all necessary to bring about the blooms which precede the bearing of seeds and fruit. --------------------------------- I mentioned during one of my homilies during Holy Week that I was always bothered that the risen Jesus, with his risen body, still had the wounds. I compared it to buying a shiny, brand-new car, and insisting that there be dents on the fenders and leaks in the engine. As I thought about it more and more, however, I came to understand that the wounds were there for a purpose. In the case of Thomas, the wounds were the evidence he needed. But, beyond that, the wounds serve as a reminder that Jesus’ love for us is total, down to the last drop of blood. The wounds help preserve the memory of how painful true love can be. It’s easy to love that which is perfect and beautiful, is it not? But Jesus chose to show us a love of that which is less than perfect, and clearly not beautiful. Perhaps the clearest example of that is that he was there for the lepers of his day, those who had a contagious disease that rotted their flesh and forced them to live in isolation. But it was true of others, as well. Jesus went out of his way to embrace public sinners, foreigners, enemies, even those who were involved in putting him to death. From the cross he prayed, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” The risen body of Jesus, still bearing the wounds, means that our Lord is present in a special way to those who are wounded: those with cancer or another life-threatening disease, those who have lost a loved one, those who have been bullied, those carrying the wounds of a failed relationship, those who feel they cannot be forgiven, those who know they are less than perfect. Jesus is there for those living with the daily threat of war, terrorism, violence, domestic abuse, betrayal. In short, the less than perfect resurrected body of Jesus means that now, as then, he is present in a special way to those who are less than perfect. ------------------------------------------------ I was reminded of an early hit by the Beatles. Do you remember a song entitled When I’m Sixty-Four, released in June 1967? Here are some of the lyrics: When I get older, losing my hair Many years from now, Will you still be sending me a valentine, birthday greetings, bottle of wine? If I'd been out till quarter to three, Would you lock the door? Will you still need me, will you still feed me, When I'm sixty-four? Ooh … I could be handy mending a fuse When your lights have gone. You can knit a sweater by the fireside, Sunday mornings, go for a ride. Doing the garden, digging the weeds, Who could ask for more? Will you still need me, will you still feed me, When I'm sixty-four? -------------------------------------------------- In a similar way, Jesus’ wounds remind us that he’s not a fair-weather friend, only there for the good times. He’s there, always, and especially when we’re wounded. So, if you’re struggling, if you’re dealing with something painful, don’t run away. Don’t make the mistake of thinking the Lord doesn’t understand, or care. Instead, go to the wounds. Allow yourself to feel what true love is like when you need it the most.