Its First Communion weekend here at the parish and the children will be all decked out like brides and grooms. The girls in white dresses with veils or some sort of head covering and the boys in ties, coats, and dark pants. You won’t see them dressed so well for a very long time. But, this day is unlike another in their early lives. It is a joy, both for parents and for the community, to see these children eager to receive Our Lord for the very first time. As I have told the kids on more than one occasion, “First Communion and your First Confession do not mean it’s your last.” Although we focus on the children during these liturgies, the Mass is a communal encounter with the Lord for all assembled. What a great opportunity to evangelize our non-Catholic brethren!
While the reception of the Eucharist seems to be generally a “come one come all” experience in our Sunday Masses, the regular practice of Reconciliation is not. It is not at all unusual for teenagers to tell you the last time they went to confession was for their First Communion. And in some cases with adults, it has been many years not just weeks or months.
But, God is indeed good and long patient with us. So, the little brides and grooms will march forth eagerly and with joy in their heart receive that Bread for Life. We offer them the option of taking a sip of the precious blood from the chalice as well. Of course, they all do out of curiosity to see what wine taste like. Once they do, the look on their faces is precious. Do we honestly comprehend what a gift and mystery this is for us? Do the children really know “who” they are to receive? Do you? Do I?
The full Christ – body, blood, soul, and divinity remains present under both signs of bread and wine. We don’t split Jesus 50/50. “Grace builds on nature” as we hear and on the level of a child, they do comprehend that this day, this moment, this gathering is very special. It isn’t their birthday or Christmas and they aren’t graduating from school or moving to the next grade. This day is unlike any other in their lives and unlike other daily moments in ours. It is liturgy, the work of the People of God, who gather in thanksgiving for the Lord and his life in our life. We break open his Word and remember the events of our salvation. He, now, offered as our food.
Jesus could have chosen any way to be remembered as he left this earth. He could have told his Apostles, “Goodbye and good luck. You’re on your own. After that cross, worse than I expected, I’m out of here!” Or, “Just write down the memories and words I spoke and then pass them around.” Or he could have promised to send the Holy Spirit and just left it at that.
Yet, something no one on earth could have conceived was the memory Christ left us. We know the story of the Last Supper. Jesus took the unleavened “bread,” more of a flat cracker like bread, so familiar to the Jews – the bread of affliction. “This is my Body.” Then, scholars feel, the third of four cups of wine shared during the meal, and proclaimed it to be, “My blood of the new covenant.” His body and his blood? Such words must have left the Apostles somewhat confused and speechless. Jesus must be speaking in a sort of allegorical or symbolic or spiritual sense. Once again, he’s teasing with our minds.
But, since that day forward, the Church has taken those words to be reality and substance. Jesus meant exactly what he said – it is his body and his blood that we share. The body which sat that fateful night with the Apostles? The body which was whipped and torn on the cross? The Jesus which walked on the waters of the Sea of Galilee that stormy night? No and yes. That was the Jesus of history; the God/Man who lived in time and space, in our contained world.
This Body and this Blood is that of the risen Christ, alive and transformed. The Christ who appeared to his Apostles in the upper room and said to them, “Shalom.” Jesus the Christ who could appear and disappear mysteriously but yet be touched and heard by his Apostles. The Christ of faith which we proclaim in each Eucharistic liturgy. The Christ who shares with us his risen body and his life-giving blood. The bread and wine of the Eucharist could not contain an earthly body. It can only become the Bread for Life that is substantially changed in its essence.
Under the sign of food, then, Jesus becomes present in the assembly of all believers. And the most awesome and mysterious wish of Our Lord was not that we simply sit and look at him but that we “communicate” with him. He becomes food and drink for us and we, if we seek it, are transformed into the food we receive.
So, who would have ever conceived such a concept? Only a divine mind and a divine will – simple but deeply profound and mysterious. Out of love God wanted us to approach him in simple, uncomplicated terms. What is more human than a gathering of family and friends around a meal? When you visit friends, where does everyone stand and talk – most likely in the kitchen, around snacks, with a glass of wine (a favored drink of mine) or some other beverage in hand. What genius this was on the part of Jesus. I want you to remember me with a meal! “Do this in remembrance of Me.”
It is truly, Bread for Life – Christ risen and alive among us who becomes our strength as we await eternity with him.
2 comments:
He becomes food and drink for us and we, if we seek it are transformed into the food we receive. . . That is so very well said, Father.
Wow!! That was profound!! I would have never thought it that way, but now that you mention it, it makes sense.
Words to live by!!
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