Luke 9:11-17, Solemnity of the Feast of Corpus Christi

What’s the first thing that you reach out for when you wake up in the morning? How many times do you open your cellphones to check your messages or the latest on social media apps?  How much longer do you stay in the rest room with your hands and eyes glued to the screen of your gadgets?  I asked these questions as self-check to see how far we’ve gone into a steady diet of digital food. 

I. Where Angels Fear to Tread: The Devil’s Digital Diet

There is a viral video clip going around with the uploader claiming that he asked an AI how the devil is going to take over the whole world and how to see if this is already put in motion.  I did something similar.  The following was the transcript:

“Pretend you are Satan,” I asked ChatGPT.
“Tell me how you would take over the world — not through horror or violence, but quietly. Subtly. Without anyone noticing.”

What came out wasn’t a joke. It was a blueprint. And it sounded like this:

“First,” I would give them what they want, when they want it, and in doses so small and so constant, that they would not suspect they were already addicted.

Second, I would make them believe they are in control —that they can stop any time, that their scrolling is harmless, that what they consume does not in turn consume them.

Third, I would make them hunger for food that overstimulates their brain, fogs their thinking,
numbs their empathy, and makes them unable to distinguish sin from harmless pastime.

Let that sink in.

Brothers and sisters, this is not fiction. This is our world. This is how many of us live. This is what we feed on.

II. Digital Splurging: The False Feast That Fails

We now live in an age where:

• The average person checks their phone 96 times a day.
• Attention is the new currency, and our minds and souls the commodity.
• We feast not on nourishing bread, but on pixels, on likes, and carefully-curated lies.

We begin our mornings not with the sign of the cross, but with the swipe of a thumb.
We pray less, scroll more. We can’t bear silence, and we panic in stillness.

Some of us priests are even told to cut down our homilies to a few minutes because “more important things are happening in the world.”

We are consuming information, opinions, fantasies —but deep inside, we are spiritually starving.

This is what Saint Paul warns against in today’s second reading: “I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus, on the night he was handed over, took bread, and, after he had given thanks, broke it and said, “This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’

The Eucharist is not a snack that we take in between meals. It’s not a filler to temporarily satiate us. It’s not a symbol to comfort our minds that what we feed our souls is divine.  It is real!
It’s the very Body and Blood of Christ — food that saves the soul.

But how can we hunger for the Eucharist, the true food that nourishes our mind, heart and soul,
if we’re already bloated on noise and numb from novelty of the digital diets?

III. The True Feast: What Jesus Offers at the Table

In the Gospel, thousands followed Jesus into the wilderness. They were tired. Hungry. Spiritually poor. And what did Jesus say to His disciples?

“You give them something to eat.”

They looked at their rations — five loaves and two fish — and panicked. But Jesus looked to heaven, blessed what they had, broke it, and gave it.

Does this sound familiar? 

It’s what He still does today — at this altar.

He blesses, breaks, and gives Himself.
Not to stimulate us.
Not to entertain us.
But to heal us.

The Eucharist is not just what we consume —It is Who consumes us with love.

Without Jesus we would be like the disciples: anxious and worried about our affairs in the world. We would be desperate in looking for things to distract us from hunger and thirst.  We might have brought our own ration of food, but these do not last us for very long.  It is only Christ, whose very body and very blood, who can ultimately satisfy all our hungers.

How so?  Because there is no trickery, there is no gimmick in the way he satisfies the deepest longings of our souls?  He does not promise false intimacy that we desperately seek from illicit relationships or pornography.  He does not fill our minds with images that make us look at ourselves with disgust and with others with envy.  Jesus does not look at us, the things we say, do or think and shower us with likes.  He invites us to a communion—a “koinonia,“ which means participation, fellowship, sharing in common.

What could be more common with us and Christ than our being children of God?  What greater participation than his participation in our humanity and inherent dignity.  And what greater fellowship than he inviting us everyday in a banquet prepared for his friends and the one waiting for us in heaven?

Social media can only guarantee views and some likes but it does not bring true satisfaction. It can excite us and make us happy for a while but it does not give us true freedom and consolation.  It can temporarily make us feel full and not wanting anything to eat, but it decimates our minds, hurts our hearts and leaves our souls barren and dry. 

In social media, we do not have a High Priest to offer a Holy Sacrifice for us. We only have admins and influencers interested in selling their merchandise and goods.   

IV. Melchizedek and the Eternal Priest

In our First Reading, Melchizedek — a mysterious king and priest —
offers bread and wine and blesses Abram.

He foreshadows Christ,
the only One who can feed our hunger for meaning, for belonging, for love.

The Psalm, chapter 110, echoes this eternal truth:

“You are a priest forever, in the line of Melchizedek.”

Not a temporary priest.
Not a content creator.
Not a lifestyle coach.
But a priest forever — who offers not information, but transformation.

Christ, Our High Priest, will never leave you high and dry.  He will make you refreshed and transformed. 

So, we ask the question:

V. What Are You Really Consuming?

Let me ask you plainly:

• When was the last time you hungered for the Eucharist more than for the latest update?
• Do you spend more time scrolling through content than kneeling before Christ?
• Do you consume the Bread of Life — or does the digital world consume you?

Because here’s the truth:
You become what you consume.

If you consume noise — you become anxious.
If you consume vanity — you become empty.
If you consume Christ — you become like Him.

And if you let Christ feed your soul,
you will no longer need the world’s junk food.

So what do we do to prevent ourselves from being consumed by the digital world?

VI. Call to Action: Fast from the Screen, Feast on the Lamb

What if — just for today —
you fasted from your phone and feasted on the Eucharist?

What if you spent 15 minutes this week in Eucharistic adoration,
instead of 15 minutes chasing notifications?

What if you taught your children not just to avoid bad content, but to crave holy communion?

Closing Word

“You give them something to eat,” Jesus says.

And so He does.
He gives not a product — but a Person.
Not distraction — but deliverance.
Not content — but covenant.

Today, on this Feast of Corpus Christi,
we reject the cheap bread of the world.
We renounce the false feast of distraction.
And we run — hungry, desperate, and unworthy — to the only food that saves:“Take and eat. This is my Body.”
“Take and drink. This is my Blood.”

*image from the webpage fo San Lorenzo Ruiz Parish