Category Archives: Eucharist

The Eucharist, the “guest room” and twenty years of priesthood

07 Sunday Jun 2015

Posted by in Body and Blood of Christ, Corpus Christi, Eucharist, homily

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , ,

The_Last_SupperThe teacher says, “Where is my guest room where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?”

With this question in this kind of clandestine encounter in Mark’s gospel the stage is set for the Last Supper where the Lord enters into his sacrifice for us and where he gives us his very body and blood that we might have life.  It is worthy, I think, to reflect on this question of our Lord, “Where is my guest room?” because it is a question that our Lord continues to ask now throughout history and in each of our lives.  Where, amidst all the distractions of life, might I meet you?  Where might I encounter you?  Where might I be welcomed by you?  Where might I bring you life and share with you my very body and blood?

One way to begin to understand the great mystery we celebrate today as Church – the mystery of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ – is to reflect on the different contexts, the different “guest rooms” through which we ourselves have been privileged to encounter and experience that mystery.

On June 3rd I celebrated my twentieth anniversary of ordination.  As a priest – not by merit but by call – one is privileged to serve at the altar and in this “guest room” of our Lord.  Whenever we gather for Mass we are gathered at that Last Supper of our Lord with his disciples.  It is an amazing thing really yet so common that it can be taken for granted.  Praying over the gospel this past week has led me to reflect on all the “guest rooms” that I have been privileged to enter into these past twenty years where our Lord encounters his people in the gift of the Eucharist.

The chapels at the two seminaries I attended – daily encounters along with friends wrestling with the same questions of call and vocation.  The warehouse church of All Saints Church in Knoxville which had no air-conditioning; where you had to turn off the industrial fans in order to hear the readings and the homily.  The chapel at Knoxville Catholic High School celebrating Mass with classes and different sports teams before a game.  The old A-frame church of St. Mary’s in Athens which shook whenever a truck drove by and then the new church that we built with devotion and sacrifice.  The little chapel of the ETSU Catholic Center tucked away in a neighborhood by the university where we would celebrate Mass, move the chairs around and then sit down for dinner together.  The chapel at UTC where we did the same thing … college ministry revolves around food!  The auditorium at Notre Dame High School, up on a stage trying to help high school students encounter Christ as both Lord and friend.  Now here, in this beautiful church and community of St. Dominic’s – at the church and at the school.

But there have been other “guest rooms” I have been privileged to enter these twenty years – the chapel where Bl. Oscar Romero was shoot and killed, the Basilica of Santa Maria in Trastavere, Rome for the celebration of Pentecost when at the main altar my friend, Fr. Marco Gnavi, tapped me on the shoulder pointing upwards where I looked to see rose petals being dropped from the top of the church’s dome for the feast, the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the chapel of an orphanage in El Salvador, an outdoor altar in Assisi, Italy where St. Francis often prayed, at a poor senior center on the outskirts of Rome, on the boat of some friends, at national youth gatherings of twenty-five thousand people and in innumerable small gatherings of two or three, in nursing homes in South Bend, IN and New York City.  In my mother’s room at the Assisted Care facility where she lived her last years with just she and I sitting at a table.

It is worthwhile to reflect on the “guest rooms” we have been privileged to enter in our own individual journeys of discipleship.  On this feast when we reflect on this great mystery of the Eucharist, I encourage us to take the time to do this.  We each have them – our home churches, places of retreat, churches we have stumbled upon while on a trip or vacation, churches we have entered for funerals, baptisms or weddings.  For each of these places and each of these moments sharing in the Body and Blood of our Lord we should give thanks because they are indeed holy places and moments filled with beauty and life – places and moments where we have encountered the Lord and where he has fed, nourished and strengthened us with his Body and Blood and with his Word.  The very contexts of encounter, the “guest rooms” where we have met and received our Lord in the Eucharist themselves lead us into a greater understanding of this most sacred and holy of mysteries.

I think it safe to say that the true “guest room” our Lord most earnestly seeks to be welcomed into and dwell within is each person’s heart.  God wants nothing other than what is best for us.  God wants relationship with us and to give us his very life!  If priests are able to help facilitate this encounter, even in the smallest way, then we are indeed among the most blessed of people – given a richness that the world can never afford.

I give thanks to God for these twenty years and for the “guest rooms” that the Lord has allowed me to enter to encounter Him and to serve his people.

The Eucharist and the Burning Bush of Exodus: Feast of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ

21 Saturday Jun 2014

Posted by in Body and Blood of Christ, burning bush, Eucharist, Moses, Pope Francis

≈ Leave a comment

Recently, Pope Francis offered these words during his Sunday Angelus address. 
Every Sunday we go to Mass, we celebrate the Eucharist together and the Eucharist is like the ‘burning bush’ in which the Trinity humbly dwells and communicates itself: this is why the Church has placed the feast of the Body of the Lord after that of the Trinity.

The Holy Father has given us some wonderful images to reflect upon on this Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ (traditionally known as Corpus Christi). 
If we look to the third chapter of Exodus (verses 1-6) we read of Moses’ encounter with God revealed in the burning bush.
Meanwhile Moses was tending the flock of his father-in-law Jethro, the priest of Midian. Leading the flock beyond the wilderness, he came to the mountain of God, Horeb.   There the angel of the Lord appeared to him as fire flaming out of a bush.   When he looked, although the bush was on fire, it was not being consumed. So Moses decided, “I must turn aside to look at this remarkable sight. Why does the bush not burn up?” When the Lord saw that he had turned aside to look, God called out to him from the bush; “Moses! Moses!” He answered, “Here I am.” God said: “Do not come near! Remove your sandals from your feet, for the place where you stand is holy ground!”   “I am the God of your father,” he continued, “the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.”  Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God. 
We are told that Moses wonders why the bush is not consumed and only after he decides to “turn aside and look” does God speak to him.  God waits for the moment when we are ready for him to speak to us.  We, for our part, must learn how to “turn aside” from all that distracts us, from the illusions, sad logic and passing fancies of our world in order to then be ready to encounter God.  God is present and is waiting to reveal himself if we just turn aside to look.  In the Eucharist – celebrated on the altar, reserved in the tabernacle – the fullness of Christ is present.  On every altar during the celebration of the Eucharist and in every tabernacle we can say that the burning bush is present waiting for us to just turn aside and look. 
The bush was not consumed.  God is not opposed to creation nor limited as creation is limited.  The presence of God does not negate my freedom nor does it negate my possibility.  God is not simply another actor within creation whose very presence necessarily limits my own space.  God is rather the source of all creation, the one who is pure love and who is non-competitive with his creation.  Christ is fully present within the Eucharist.  The bread and wine truly becomes the body and blood of Christ yet it is neither consumed nor lost.  When we receive the Body and Blood of Christ, we also are neither consumed nor lost nor oppressed; rather we are transformed into the very thing which we consume.  Through the presence of God, we are fulfilled. 
“Remove your sandals from your feet; for the place where you stand is holy ground!”  The Eucharist is holy.  This is why we reverence it, adore it, place it in a special place of reservation and come before it in prayer.  Our sandals are what carry us through our day-in and day-out lives.  Our sandals are the mundane and profane trappings of life (profane not in the sense of “anti-sacred” but rather in the sense of common and ordinary).  We are meant to remove our sandals, we are meant for more than just the ordinary!  We are meant for relationship with God!  In the Eucharist we meet Christ, we know him and we receive him.  The fullest form of friendship and communion is given to us in the Eucharist.
“I am the God of your father,” he continued, “the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.”  Just as we receive Christ in the Eucharist so do we regain ourselves.  Moses had forgotten who he was, God remembered for him.  “I am the God of your father…”  Life can wear down, confuse and distract.  We need food for the journey.  We need help remembering who we are.  In receiving the Eucharist we are reminded again of who we are – a child of God, beloved of the Father, brother and sister to Christ our Lord!  And once we encounter God and remember who we are then we are ready for mission in our world.  Moses needed to know who he was before he could ever go before Pharaoh.  The same is true for us.  Before the pharaohs of our world (violence, sin, greed and all the sad logics that seek to divide and oppress life) we need to be constantly reminded of who we are, who our brothers and sisters are and who our Father is. 
Jesus said to the crowds: “I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.” (Jn. 6:51)
“…the Eucharist is like the ‘burning bush’ in which the Trinity humbly dwells and communicates itself.” 

Three deficits brought to light by the Harvard "black mass" incident

17 Saturday May 2014

Posted by in black mass, Eucharist, Harvard, sacrament, society

≈ 2 Comments

It is interesting how an incident can bring seemingly rambling thoughts and intuitions together into clarification.  This has been the case for me as I have reflected upon the whole “black mass” incident at Harvard.  I believe that the proposal for a black mass and how it seemingly developed as well as the uproar it caused in response reveals some very real deficits in our current secular world and understanding.
The first deficit is a lack of comprehension in our society in terms of what defines “religion” and therefore a much needed societal discussion on both “religion” and what constitutes “freedom of religion”.  This is a discussion Americans don’t like to have and prefer to avoid if at all possible.  “You believe what you want and I will believe what I want and we will call it even,” is very much the doctrine of our day.  To some degree there is good in this.  Better tolerance than religious wars.  Yet, when people just assume that a black mass must be tolerated and even condoned by a university then something is lacking in our understanding of religion and religious tolerance.  Here is where things get messy, “religious” groups and activities can and should be evaluated and judged.  Not every group who claim the title “church,” “temple,” “shrine,” etc. should be automatically considered religious and therefore protected under freedom of religion.
We lack the language (and will perhaps?) to enter into this discussion and this is a real deficit in our time.  I am not here proposing a comprehensive answer but I do believe that as a society we need to have the discussion and develop the language and clarification needed.  To this discussion I would add this thought: I think it can be argued that a true religious practice protected by freedom of religion will not need to denigrate another religion in order to fulfill its purpose.  A true religious practice will have the ability to stand on its own merit.  A black mass cannot do this because it is meant, by its very purpose, to be a profanation of the Catholic Mass.  It is meant to be the anti-Catholic Mass.  In the black mass a consecrated host from a Catholic Mass is profaned – somehow a consecrated host has been obtained by either theft or deception and is then desecrated in the black mass.  Therefore, a black mass is not neutral to other religions, specifically Catholicism.  A black mass, in its very structure and purpose, is an act of hatred toward Catholicism.  Because of its inability to stand on its own, it can be held that a black mass should not be considered a religious act protected by freedom of religion.  Further, due to the fact that it’s foundational act is dependent upon an act of deception (falsely acquiring a consecrated host in order to conduct an anti-Mass), it can be demonstrated that it is an act of hate which, although it might be protected under freedom of expression, should never be condoned by a public institution such as Harvard.
The second deficit is an almost criminally negligent naivety about things spiritual and sacramental.  This was witnessed in abundance throughout the Harvard black mass incident.  Apparently the organizers could not even begin to comprehend why desecrating a consecrated host or even reenacting such a desecration (even if the host was not consecrated) would cause such an uproar and reaction from people.  Why should this bother people?  It is just another cultural experience we are exploring, similar to the tea ceremony we also sponsored.  That attitude of “just another cultural experience” demonstrates a profound lack of spiritual and sacramental sensibilities.  If one is seeking a prime example of living in a time dominated by a purely materialist understanding of reality then you need look no further.  This is it.  Further, on the other side, why should we worry about a Satanic Mass?  It is just a cultural expression.  There really is nothing to it after all.  Who believes in the devil anyway?  What real affect can it have?  In this incident we find either total obliviousness to any possibility of a spiritual dimension to reality or, more troubling, an attitude seeking to denigrate a view of life that incorporates the spiritual dimension and those who profess it. 
The third deficit is the university system itself.  Something is fundamentally off-kilter on our college campuses.  The weak response given by the administration at Harvard to the whole black mass incident is one example and it should give people pause.  Yes, I am aware that the university president publicly condemned the choice of the Harvard Extension School’s Cultural Studies Club to co-sponsor a black mass on campus and that she attended a public Eucharistic procession in personal rebuttal to the black mass but does it not demonstrate a deficit in the university system itself that something like this (which can clearly be demonstrated as an act of hate) could not be stopped outright?  Another recent incident that should raise concern is the White House having to call colleges and universities to task for laxity in preventing and truly prosecuting sexual violence incidents on campus.  A further pause can be found by reading College, the Great Unequalizer, a recent opinion piece in the New York Times by Ross Douthat where he highlights the book Paying for the Party by Elizabeth A. Armstrong and Laura T. Hamilton who explore how higher education and the “party-pathway” through college contributes to inequality in our society.  Here is a quote from the article by Douthat regarding the party-pathway as a mechanism of inequality: The losers are students ill equipped for the experiments in youthful dissipation that are now accepted as every well-educated millennial’s natural birthright. The winners, meanwhile, are living proof of how a certain kind of libertinism can be not only an expression of class privilege, but even a weapon of class warfare.  I have witnessed this mechanism of inequality on college campuses and I have counselled its victims.  There is a deficit in our current system of higher education and it needs to be discussed and brought to light.
This black mass incident has brought to light some troubling deficits of understanding in our society; hopefully we can find the backbone to move beyond the superficial to a true discussion that would begin to answer these very real deficits.     

  

 

"Stay with us…" The Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ

01 Saturday Jun 2013

Posted by in Encounter with Christ, Eucharist, Relationship

≈ Leave a comment

“The Road to Emmaus” by Caravaggio

In the last chapter of Luke’s gospel we are given the Emmaus story.  The risen Lord joins two disciples on the road and fully reveals himself to them in the breaking of the bread whereupon he vanishes from their sight.  Prior to this, when they are still on the road and the Lord makes as if to continue on, the disciples make this request, “Stay with us, for it is toward evening and the day is now far spent.” (Lk. 24:29)

This Sunday, as the Church celebrates the Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ (or Corpus Christi), I would suggest this request of the two disciples as a way of exploring this holy mystery of the Eucharist at the heart of the life of the Church. 

Notice first of all that it is a request.  The Church does not own nor control this mystery.  We cannot command the presence of God.  At heart, all we can do is request, ask and when God is present – live in gratitude.  Earlier today I was at the ordination of Fr. Christopher Manning – the newest priest to be ordained to the Diocese of Knoxville – and in his homily, Bishop Richard Stika, spoke of the danger of seeking to control the Eucharist and form it through our thought and perception into our image rather than letting the Eucharist transform and change us.  We do not transform the Eucharist (when we attempt to do so we get into trouble both individually and even as “church”) rather the Eucharist transforms us.  When we receive the Eucharist we need to let this dynamic reality occur and we need to entrust ourselves to this movement of extraordinary grace.  The language of request acknowledges and respects this graced encounter that can never be controlled on our part.  “Stay with us…”

Secondly, notice that it implies relationship.  Our awareness of the mystery of the Eucharist grows as our relationship with Christ as Lord and Savior grows and our lived acknowledgement of Christ as Lord and Savior grows just as our humble entering into the mystery of the Eucharist increases.  Relationship is a lived reality, it is a give and take exchange.  The mystery of the Eucharist (like any relationship) cannot be “proven” from the outside. It must be entered into, in order to be encountered and experienced.  This “entering into the mystery” is not just a matter of filling a spot in a pew on Sunday either.  It is a dynamic of the heart and the heart’s willingness to enter relationship.

The breaking of the bread and Christ giving himself in the form of bread and wine occurs on the road.  The Eucharist is often referred to as “bread for the journey”.  While in this world – as individual pilgrims and as church – we are always on the journey.  We are on journey toward the Kingdom of God and beyond that which holds us bound.  The Eucharist is not prize for the victor who has won solely on his or her own abilities rather, it is food for the pilgrim on the journey, who often stumbles and who can even take wrong turns and get lost sometimes.  We need the Eucharist.  We need it’s transforming grace.

The Eucharist nourishes and refreshes us from the struggles of life.  The weariness of life can be heard in the request of the disciples who just had their hopes dashed by the cross on Calvary.  “…it is toward evening and the day is far spent.”  In a truly divine way, the Eucharist nourishes and refreshes us as we also encounter the pains and struggles of life.  The subtlety of the Eucharist is one of the great paradoxes and stumbling blocks in the eyes of the world.  In the simple receiving of what appears on the surface to be only bread and wine the very life of God is given to us and received by us!  God’s power is revealed exactly in not having to act through flash and show but rather in giving of Himself in a subtle presence.  A discerning and maturing heart begins to recognize this.  The Eucharist nourishes and opens our eyes to the ways of God. 

In his first letter to the Corinthians (1 Cor. 11:23-26), Paul recounts what he himself had received and now, what he himself, hands on.  “…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.’  In the same way also the cup, after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood.  Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.”  Before the gospels were written, before the canon of Scripture had been codified, before Christianity was legally recognized and no longer persecuted, the Eucharist was being celebrated.

The first Christians encountered the living Lord in the breaking of the bread … this same encounter continues today.                   

The Eucharist and friendship with Jesus, part 3 – Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)

25 Saturday Aug 2012

Posted by in 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time (B), bread of life, Eucharist, friendship, humility

≈ Leave a comment

With this Sunday’s gospel reading (Jn. 6:60-69) we come to the end of our five week collective reading of the sixth chapter of John and our reflection on Christ as the Bread of Life.  In many ways today we are given a very vulnerable scene.  Christ has just laid out the teaching of his being the bread of life and people needing to eat of his flesh and drink of his blood.  It was a difficult teaching for many of his followers.   

Many of Jesus’ disciples who were listening said, “This saying is hard; who can accept it?” … As a result of this, many of his disciples returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied him.

The scene is striking in many ways.  Jesus is vulnerable and he is willing to remain in that vulnerability out of his love for us and the Father and his desire for our friendship and not our fear.  Because of this he is willing to accept the poverty of seeing people walk away.  (There is a great lesson here, I believe, for all persons who are involved in ministry and for any Christian disciple in general.  Authentic ministry and witness means accepting and embracing this poverty.  We do not manipulate people, we do not buy their allegiance or their participation through the latest gadget or trend.  Like Christ, we simply offer what we know and what we have and we love people enough to allow them their freedom.)

Our Lord then turns to the Twelve: Do you also want to leave?  Simon Peter answered him, “Master, to whom shall we go?  You have the words of life.  We have come to believe and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God.”  

Now, I do not believe that when Peter made this reply he had a full understanding of transubstantiation worked out in his thoughts.  More than likely, he also probably found our Lord’s words confusing and troubling and the thought was also probably there that, “… maybe it is time to just walk away.”  But he doesn’t.  Even in the uncertainty of the moment and not fully understanding, Peter makes that very remarkable reply, “Master, to whom shall we go?  You have the words of life.  We have come to believe and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God.”

These are words of faith and they are also words of humility – the two are connected.  St. Teresa of Avila, in her book The Interior Castle, makes a profound and foundational observation regarding the spiritual life that is helpful here, I believe, “While we are on this earth nothing is more important to us than humility.”  Humility is a key component of faith and, in fact, it is a key component of true friendship.  No humility, no friendship.  Peter does not work it all out on his own and then come to Jesus fully informed and ready to commit himself.  Rather, Peter remains with Jesus even in the midst of the uncertainty because in his humility he has come to realize and accept that Jesus does indeed have the words of life and it is by remaining with Jesus that he is brought to greater and greater faith and understanding!

The key is humility and the willingness to just remain with Jesus.

It has been noted that beyond the murmuring about eating the flesh and drinking the blood is the heart of the issue that just proved too much for people and so they walked away: this being the choice of an exclusive intimacy with God through a personal relationship with Jesus.  Peter both makes this choice for himself and proclaims it in his reply to the Lord: “We have come to believe and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God.”

All of our Lord’s discourse on his being the bread of life is offered and then it is summed up and accepted in the reply of Peter.  It all comes back to humility, to faith and the willingness to remain with Christ and to have friendship and intimacy with Christ.   

“Master, to whom shall we go?  You have the words of life.  We have come to believe and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God.” 

      

The Eucharist and friendship with Jesus, part 2 – Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)

18 Saturday Aug 2012

Posted by in 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time (B), bread of life, Eucharist, Fr. Lou Cameli, friendship

≈ Leave a comment

During these weeks when we as the Church have been drawing from the sixth chapter of John’s gospel and reflecting on Christ as the bread of life, I have become more and more aware of how Eucharist and friendship with Christ must be held together and that the starting point for a true understanding of Eucharist is relationship with Christ.  The two are that closely bound and connected.  In fact, I do not think that one can have a full understanding of Eucharist apart from relationship with Christ.  We can talk about transubstantiation, real presence and the matter and form of the sacrament (which are all valid points and have their place) till the cows come home but without relationship with Christ all the talk does not really amount to much.

A number of years ago, I saw a saying on a roadside church sign that has remained with me, “People will not care about how much you know until they know how much you care.”  God, I think, understands this.  In the Eucharist God reveals the depth of his love.  Christ freely and totally gives his own body and blood that we might have life.

Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you.  Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day.  For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink.  Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him. 

This word “life” is of utmost importance.  We live in a time that says we must get the most out of every moment and that this is where true life is to be found.  Today, our faith gives us the same invitation:

Brothers and sisters: Watch carefully how you live, not as foolish persons but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil.  Therefore, do not continue in ignorance, but try to understand what is the will of the Lord.  (Eph. 5:15-16)

Wisdom has built her house … “Let whoever is simple turn in here”; to the one who lacks understanding, she says, “Come, eat of my food, and drink of the wine I have mixed!  Forsake foolishness that you may live; advance in the way of understanding.”  (Proverbs 9:1,5-6)

Notice how in both these passages and in today’s gospel (Jn. 6:51-58) life is achieved through relationship – entering Wisdom’s house, seeking God’s will, eating the flesh and drinking the blood of Christ in order to remain in Christ and for Christ to remain in us.

I have just finished reading a new book put out by my friend Fr. Lou Cameli entitled; Bread of Life: Exploring the Presence of Eucharist in Our Lives.  The book is quite good and I highly recommend it but here I want to bring out two points that Fr. Cameli makes in his book. 

First, in the book, Fr. Cameli explores in detail the sixth chapter of John’s gospel and he reminds us that in this chapter as Jesus is expounding on his being the bread of life he is (in fact) in dialogue with a “more and more concentrated set of interlocutors”.  At first Jesus is talking with a crowd, then it is his disciples, then it is the Twelve and, I would say, finally Jesus is in dialogue with you and me.  The invitation that Jesus has put out there for the people has become too much, too intense – many people walk away.  Jesus puts the same question to each of us; Do you also wish to go away?  It is a question of relationship, of friendship.  It is a question that only each one of us can answer for himself or herself but notice how Christ as the bread of life and relationship/friendship are intertwined and connected.  

Throughout his book, Fr. Cameli reflects on the importance of the Eucharist yet also how that importance has seemed to dim in the life of faith for so many people.  Many people, many Catholics, just do not seem to think that the Eucharist is that important.  Fr. Cameli wrestles with the question but he does not give a pat answer because there is none.  Rather, Fr. Cameli shares his own “Eucharistic Autobiography” – how the Eucharist has been experienced throughout his life and how the Eucharist has, in turn, shaped his life.  He concludes his autobiography with these words:

So, the critical importance of the Eucharist happened for me, because the Eucharist became important at important junctures of my life and in the ordinary rhythm of daily life.  I understand how those who have not had this blessed experience would neither know the Eucharist nor find it that important.  There is a circularity here in the logic of this relationship: it is central because it becomes central; it remains peripheral because it remains peripheral.  The spiritual or formational challenge is to break into this circle of relationship and to begin to practice familiarity. 

The language is relational – friendships become important to us because we allow them to become central to our lives.  The Eucharist becomes central because we allow it to become central.

Throughout this chapter of John’s gospel as Jesus speaks of himself as the bread of life we also find him inviting us to relationship and friendship; even to the point of accepting the poverty of seeing people walk away.  Do you also wish to go away?

Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you.  

    

  

The Eucharist and friendship with Jesus: Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)

11 Saturday Aug 2012

Posted by in 19th Sunday in Ordinary Time (B), Eucharist, friendship, scandal of the particular

≈ Leave a comment


One of the authors that I keep returning to in my life is Jean Vanier – the founder of the L’Arche communities.  L’Arche communities are houses where men and women – mentally handicapped and not – live together in a community of friendship and support.  I enjoy Vanier’s writings because he has great insight and he is able to express great truths in simple terms.  Recently, I read this thought by Vanier which I would like to share:

Jesus invites us to make a difficult and sometimes stormy passage of faith from the enthusiasm of discipleship to the gentleness and humility of friendship.  Friendship with Jesus – the Word made flesh – becomes the nourishment for our hearts and lives.  

Jesus is not only the Word of God – fully transcendent, enlightening our minds and intellects.  Jesus is also the Word made flesh.  God incarnate for us.  God wanting to give himself to us as He is.  God wants our friendship, our kinship, and through the incarnation of Christ reveals that He is willing to become so vulnerable and so very ordinary in his flesh in order to achieve this.

In many ways this is the scandal of the particular and the ordinary.  It is what the people murmur about in this Sunday’s gospel (Jn. 6:41-51) and the same murmuring continues today.  After Jesus says, I am the bread that came down from heaven; we find the people saying, Is this not Jesus, the son of Joseph?  Do we not know his father and his mother?  In other words, we know this man, how can he say such things?  Why would the omnipresent and all-powerful God reveal himself in a particular and seemingly ordinary person, in a particular place and in a particular time?  The murmuring continues today in a variety of forms.  “I am spiritual but not religious.”  “My God is bigger than your dogma.”  “The Eucharist is not really that important.”  This murmuring demonstrates an approach to faith that is happy to keep things open and generic and also one that easily congratulates itself on being “enlightened”.  But, it also should be noted that it is an approach that keeps any real demands on me at a minimum.  A truly open and generic God will not make particular demands on my life, my time and my desires.

The quote by Jean Vanier also highlights another aspect of the scandal of the particular.  It is rooted in fear.  The fear of having to make that truly necessary but stormy passage of faith from the enthusiasm of discipleship to the gentleness and humility of friendship.  The truth is that there is a part within each of us that prefers discipleship to friendship.  Discipleship is quite respectable and yet it still keeps God and Christ a bit removed.  Christ is the master and we are the disciples and although this is always true the Gospel today should shock us, it ought to shock us, into the recognition that this is not enough for God.

Jesus says, It is written in the prophets: ‘They shall all be taught by God.’ … I am the bread of life.  Your ancestors ate the manna in the desert, but they died; this is the bread that comes down from heaven so that one may eat it and not die.  I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will life forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.

God wants our friendship.  

In the very ordinary stuff of bread and wine Christ has chosen to give us his very self – full divinity and full humanity!  The infinite chooses the finite to reveal himself.  The very particularity of Jesus himself and the very particularity and ordinariness of the Eucharist reveals to us that before God is ever an incomprehensible mystery for our reason and intellect to ponder, He is an unfathomable mystery of love to receive.  God has chosen to give Himself for us.  God wants the gentleness and humility of friendship.  We do not need superhuman effort in order to understand something of heaven nor do we need extraordinary mediators to communicate with God.  God is here.  God is present.  Christ gives himself in the Eucharist.  All that we have to do is receive.

As we approach the altar we should be aware of what we are about and what God is about.  We should neither do this half-heartedly nor half-mindedly.  We should be aware that in the Eucharist Christ wants and invites us to undertake that stormy passage of faith from the enthusiasm of discipleship to the gentleness and humility of friendship.  And as we undertake this, we come to realize in the very particular and concrete way of our own life that friendship with Jesus – the Word made flesh – truly becomes the nourishment for our hearts and lives.     

         

Two Pictures for the Feast of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ

08 Friday Jun 2012

Posted by in art, Body and Blood of Christ, Eucharist

≈ Leave a comment

For this Feast of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ I have found myself meditating on two images.  One is Caravaggio’s painting, Road to Emmaus, and the second is a black and white photograph of a Mass being conducted in the underground Catholic Church in China.

“Road to Emmaus” by Caravaggio

In the Caravaggio painting Christ is seated at table with the two disciples while an innkeeper and wife (I suppose) look on.  Outside of the figures and the table scene the rest of the image is black and in shadows.  A light shines from the left illuminating the scene.  Half of Christ’s face is in shadow.  The Lord’s right hand is raised in a symbol of blessing over the bread and his eyes are downcast.  One disciples grips the table as if stunned and the other disciple (whose back is turned toward us) raises his hands in shocked amazement.  Caravaggio has captured the moment of recognition when the risen Lord reveals himself to the two disciples in the breaking of the bread!

Outside of this the innkeeper and his wife look on as if there is nothing out of the ordinary and this I find fascinating.  Here is the risen Lord revealing himself in the breaking of the bread to the two disciples yet without the eyes of faith to recognize what is transpiring it seems that there is nothing extraordinary occurring.  In fact, it is the most ordinary of scenes.

Why did the risen Lord choose something so ordinary, so mundane in order to communicate and give himself to us?  In the first reading for this feast (Ex. 24:3-8) we have the scene of Moses erecting an altar and holocausts being offered and the blood of bulls being sprinkled.  This is far from ordinary!  In the second reading (Hebrews 9:11-15) we have a reflection on Christ as the High Priest who reconciles us to God and one another through his own blood.  Again, far from ordinary.  In the gospel (Mark 14:12-16, 22-26) we have the scene of the Last Supper – Jesus blessing and giving the bread and giving the cup while saying, “This is my body … This is my blood …”  Apart from those most important of words the scene itself is very ordinary (a teacher and his disciples sharing a meal).

The gift of faith makes all the difference.  Without faith it just seems so ordinary, not even really being worthy of notice.  With faith our hands grip the table in stunned amazement!  In this most ordinary of scenes the risen Lord is present and God bestows his very life upon us!

The second image is also surrounded by shadow and darkness.  Again the eyes of the faithful are turned toward a set point.  Again, in many ways, the scene is very ordinary.  It is a house in China.  The people are attired in clothes that we are familiar with.  Yet, from the road to Emmaus it is now two thousand years later and on the other side of the world.  The Mass is being offered in the persecuted and underground Catholic Church in China.  The priest elevates the host.  His face is hidden behind his arms.  Again Christ reveals himself in the breaking of the bread!

Once more the eyes of faith are what determine our understanding.  Without faith all we can see is a photo of some obscure and, according to some people, even suspect ritual.  With faith, we find ourselves with the two disciples in Emmaus and with the original twelve in the upper room and we hear those words, “This is my body … This is my blood …”

Christ has chosen to reveal and give of himself in the ordinary occurrence of bread and wine.  Without faith it is seems to be nothing of much value; with faith it is recognized as the very Body and Blood of Christ – the answer given to the deepest hunger, thirst and yearning of the human heart.