We Can’t Foul Up the Eucharist, But We Can Improve Our Response
We celebrate today the solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ. In some ways, this is probably the easiest liturgical celebration on which to preach, and it is the easiest for you to hear preached.
Why is that the case? Because the body and blood of Christ, usually referred to as the Eucharist is really so incredibly awesome that reflection on that awesomeness and responding to it is really so much more important than talking about it.
Of course, this reality has not kept bishops, priests, and deacons from saying a lot about the Eucharist over many centuries. We of course, love and respect our Church’s beliefs about the body and blood of Christ. We talk about the Eucharist as the most concrete example of the all-loving eternal covenant between God and His people. This covenant, which began with Abraham, then Moses, then the rest of the Jewish Old Testament prophets, is symbolized by the blood covenant of animal sacrifice in our first reading from Exodus. That covenant was then perfected for all mankind, by the blood sacrifice of Jesus Christ that is described in the letter to the Hebrews, our second reading. And the institution of the sacrament of the Eucharist, the visible continuation of that covenant by the sacrifice of Jesus Himself, and the banquet of His Body and Blood to whom we are called, is detailed for us in the Gospel according to Mark (tonight, this morning).
We also believe something else about the Eucharist that is rather remarkable. Through the gospels there is unmistakable proof that when the priest at Mass says the prayer that Jesus says in our Gospel (tonight, this morning) the bread and wine that he prays over becomes the body and blood of Jesus. This ultimate act of love nourishes us with God Himself, every time we receive the Eucharist. Jesus is literally in us. His sacrifice, his banquet, Jesus Himself, is present to us at every Mass. This sacrifice, this banquet, together with the gifts, fruits, and charisms of the Holy Spirit, give us the strength to follow the trail, the journal of love that Jesus blazed nearly 2,000 years ago. The Eucharist enables us to live a joyful life so that no matter what our troubles, we receive what we need to work our way back to Him through a life of service-based love. And what is the ultimate example of service-based love? The Eucharist. That is the reason for our feast (tonight) today.
This ultimate act of love, the ultimate giving of oneself, is the reason why the Church regards the Eucharist as the source and summit of our faith. And it is a good thing. For no matter how any member of the clergy preaches about the Eucharist, no matter how good preachers we think we are, brothers and sisters, not I, not Father Rick, not Archbishop Brunett, not Pope Benedict himself, not anybody, cannot improve on the Eucharist. Conversely, no matter how lousy preachers we may be, we can’t foul up the Eucharist either.
So let us put aside the theology of the Eucharist. Let’s focus instead on an even more important issue. And that issue is: what will be the RESPONSE of all of us to the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, to the Eucharist? Here after all, is the real challenge. The prayer at Mass that we say before receiving the Eucharist: “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you; but only say the word, and I shall be healed,” takes liberty with the Gospel passage from which it is derived. The words of the Roman centurion said when he asked Jesus to heal his son or servant (depending on the Gospel account) are a little different. The Catholic New American Bible tells us that the words are actually more like “Lord, I am not worthy that you should come under my roof,” or “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter my house.”
Now this is not just an obscure translation factoid of no importance to us. For looking at these words this way helps us to frame an appropriately spiritual and physical response to the Eucharist. For if Jesus is under our roof, in our house, through the Eucharist, we can ask better some effective questions about our response. What if Jesus had an appointment to come over to our house this afternoon? How would we respond? Would we be indifferent? Would we talk loudly when he was trying to speak to us? Or would we offer our best hospitality? Would we thank him for saving us by taking on the excruciating suffering that He did? Would we respond with an attitude of gratitude and a desire to love Him and to others as He asked us? Would we sacrifice for Jesus, for others if He asked us, the way that He did for us?
Brothers and sisters, every time we receive the Body and Blood of Christ, Christ enters under our roof. He enters into our home. The words of the call to Eucharist in the Mass are anything but symbolic. They are the call to the real presence of Christ entering into us in a way every bit as meaningful as if Jesus were entering our home, coming under our roof. Our response then should be Christ-like, both accepting and spreading His love to the many we encounter. For the Eucharist reminds us in the most powerful of ways that Jesus walks and speaks to our world through each one of us. We welcome the Lord into our lives, into the house that is our bodies, by the way we receive and respond to the Eucharist.
I can go on and on about the Eucharist. But I said I would not. For no Catholic can improve on the Eucharist. Its incredible awesomeness speaks for itself. All of us however, can surely improve the way we respond.