By: Fr. Mike Lisbeth, SM
Sunday, March 6, 2005
The Eucharist is one of the true jewels in the beautiful crown of our Catholic faith. Like every jewel, there are many splendid facets to its beauty. I know that I cannot reflect on all of these facets of Eucharist this afternoon. I have chosen NOT to speak about “meal,” NOT to talk about “sacrifice.” Through scripture, stories and commentary, I’d like to reflect with you now about Eucharist as healing, as forgiveness, and as presence.
HEALING
In life, when we have some really good news, don’t we usually look for a receptive friend who will share our joy? And when we pass through a particularly difficult moment in life, don’t seek out a compassionate person who will steady us through the gift of their listening heart? I believe Eucharist can be a place where we seek and find this healing touch of Jesus. A woman named Debi Jean Hill in Lansing, Michigan wrote about her Eucharistic experience of Comfort and Peace.
I left work today feeling like I had worked hard, but accomplished little. It was one of those days where there was one interruption after another; one stressful event after another, and I just couldn’t run fast enough to do all that needed to be done. We all have those days, don’t we?
When I left work, I drove directly to church. I couldn’t wait to sit in quiet in front of the blessed Eucharist. I told Jesus about my uneventful day, and asked Him for patience and understanding. I sat there for an hour in prayer, and felt stillness, peace, and comfort surround me. It was a safe place, and I was totally relaxed. The Eucharist works wonders, and I know tomorrow will be a better day. Thank you, Jesus, for listening.
I tell this story – not because it is so special or miraculous, but because it is so very ordinary. Jesus says to us, “I stand at the door and knock. Who will open the door to me?’” Jesus invites us, “Come to me, all you who labor and are heavily burdened. I will give you rest.” How do we, how will we respond to these invitations?
Let’s pause for a brief moment to acknowledge the healing presence of Jesus here with us in our Eucharist.
FORGIVENESS
The ultimate goal of forgiveness is communion with God, and with one another. In the Lord’s Prayer, it is no coincidence that the “forgiveness” petition flows from the petition asking for daily bread. One meaning of the fourth petition about forgiveness is a recognition and desire for the Eucharist—for Holy Communion.
Christ is the incarnation of forgiveness. To receive him in Eucharist is to be flooded with the reality of forgiveness. In the Eucharist we receive the very body and blood of Christ, given for us on the cross for the forgiveness of sins. Receiving Holy Communion cleanses us of venial sins and helps to keep us from committing more serious sins.
Asking forgiveness is the prerequisite for both the Eucharistic liturgy and for personal prayer. The Eucharist provides the grace we need to forgive others, and to embrace them as brothers and sisters even if our feelings and memories remain hurt by their actions. Here is a kind of Eucharistic parable of love and forgiveness.
Kate Clairbourn, a writer, is divorced, and the mother of a teenage daughter. When Kate is confronted with the reality of her hidden but terminal illness, she is inspired to invite her alienated brothers to a family thanksgiving meal. At the table, she shares how important the love and support of family are to her. Her openness allows the feelings of the two brothers to surface; first anger and hurt, followed by forgiveness and reconciliation.
However, Kate herself is challenged to even greater forgiveness. Early thanksgiving day, Kate's daughter Christy had, unknown to her mother, discovered the doctor's report on Kate's illness. In an impulsive gesture Christy calls her divorced father, informing him of the situation and of the "family" dinner her mother is having. Near the end of the day, Kate's divorced husband appears at the door, saying that because of Christy's phone call, he felt he should come "just this once." Kate, at first taken off guard, finds it within herself to abandon her own anger and hurt, and to offer the wine of forgiveness to her former husband, even as they continue their lives apart.
The decision to forgive is one that is often arrived at after much struggle. The problem with forgiveness is that there is something to forgive - hurt. Forgiving an injury, pardoning a wrong, letting go of a hurt unjustly inflicted, are all spiritual actions that can be wrung from the depth of our soul. The work of forgiveness is not something to be taken lightly. It is never glib; it must always come from the heart. To forgive too easily or too quickly can be an escape from the real soul struggle that is the price of forgiving. Facing the pain, confronting the situation with honesty and choosing the path of forgiveness are real works that engage the heart and soul.
The struggle ultimately is always a spiritual one and should be done in prayer. Christ Himself went into prayer in His struggles, as we see in the Agony in the Garden. His example is for our instruction and encouragement.
The bread and wine, food and drink, symbolize life itself. We even call bread "the Staff of Life." Going more deeply into the symbolism, we recognize that these common elements have rich meaning. The bread is made from many grains of wheat, the wine from many grapes. To produce bread and wine, both wheat and grapes must be crushed and broken.
Life is like that. Each one of us comes with a history of crushing and bruising experiences. Bread and wine symbolize not simply life in the abstract, but life with all its bruising, crushing and painful experiences. Every person offering the Eucharist has a share in the pain of life with all its hurtful dimensions. It is these experiences that produce the need to forgive so much, so deeply and so often. Therefore, before we reach for forgiveness, we offer our lives to the Father in the Eucharist in union with the broken and suffering Jesus, the Crucified.
Let’s pause for a brief moment to acknowledge the forgiving presence of Jesus here with us in our Eucharist.
PRESENCE
The first and principal effect of the Holy Eucharist is union with Christ by love. Christ Himself designated the idea of Communion as a union love. In the gospel of John, he says, "Those who eat my flesh, and drink my blood, abide in me, and I in them" (Jn, 6:57).
A humorous story springs up about St. Anthony’s encounter with a Jewish man. This man contested the "Real Presence of the Eucharist. One day he approached St. Anthony publicly and after spelling out all of his reasons for not believing in such a "fable" as the Real Presence, he challenged Anthony to a contest. He bet that the Real Presence was a lie, and he proposed to "starve a donkey" for three days---no hay, and see if the donkey would choose to eat hay or preferred the Eucharist. St. Anthony, being publicly "put on the spot" accepted the challenge. So the wealthy merchant brought out his donkey, publicly hitched him to a post where he could be observed by all; and proceeding to "starve the donkey" for three days. Simultaneously, St. Anthony went into the forest and "fasted" for three days---taking no food.
When the day of trial came, Anthony emerged from the forest and sought out a local Church where he took the Eucharist and returned to the spot where the donkey was tied. Meanwhile, the challenger had placed a large pile of hay about 20 feet away from the donkey. Anthony took out the Eucharist holding it in his hands; the merchant untied the donkey, who needless to say, made a "beeline" for the pile of hay. Just as the donkey was about to reach the hay, St. Anthony elevated the Eucharist and shouted in a loud voice: "Mule, in the Name of the Lord Our God, I command you to come here and adore your Creator!" The donkey "reared up" on his hind legs as if someone had pulled him by a bridle; he spun around, and ran to St. Anthony, dropping to his forelegs--- hind legs still extended; and put his head down to the ground---in a "posture of adoration" before the Eucharist which St. Anthony continued to hold elevated. The Jewish merchant, stunned by what occurred begged St. Anthony's forgiveness, converted on the spot, and donated the money to build a new Catholic Church, his newfound faith. On the cornerstone of the Church, he had engraved a picture of St. Anthony holding the Eucharist aloft and the donkey, "kneeling on his forepaws" in adoration of the Body of Christ.
I don’t know whether the story is true or not. In a sense, it doesn’t matter. Our faith rests on the words of Jesus, “I will be with you.” Our hearts confirm this truth within us.
Listen to this story of Eileen Glenn of Havertown, Pennsylvania. It’s called: As Long As I Am Able.
My mother was 88 years old and somewhat sickly, yet she attended Mass every Sunday. She lived with my sister Joan, and every week Joan and I took turns getting her to Mass on time. Annunciation was her parish for 50 years, and she loved going there.
One Sunday after she had been ill, I told her she didn’t have to go to church each week because the Eucharistic minister would come to her with Communion. She answered, “Eileen dear, when your father died, I promised myself that I would pray for him when the priest raised the Host at the consecration. I ask Jesus to hold your father in His arms at Communion time, and I want to continue this at Mass as long as I am able.”
My mother died in 1998 and I have tried to follow her example. When the priest elevates the Host during the consecration, I ask Jesus to hold my parents in His arms, and I will continue to do this “as long as I am able.”
Let’s pause for a brief moment to acknowledge the Real Presence of Jesus here with us in our Eucharist.
Jesus thanks you for coming to the Father’s house this afternoon. Jesus thanks you for the gifts of your time and your love. Jesus thanks you for your openness to his gifts of healing, forgiveness and love.
And finally we pray together: May the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit be glorified in all places through the Immaculate Virgin Mary. |