A - Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ

Soon my words will be over as we conclude the Liturgy of the Word and begin the Liturgy of the Eucharist.  At that time Father will take into his hands both bread and wine and we will witness God revealing himself; humbly, quietly, simply, and fully entrusting us with his very real and immediate presence.  By way of the Holy Spirit, and through the presence of Father acting in persona-Christi, this change or transubstantiation occurs.   It is and always has been the teaching of the Church that the bread and wine are not merely symbols of Christ: they are the body and blood of Christ.  It is by his body and blood that we have the means of salvation. 

At Mass you and I are made present to and participate in the very moment of the last supper when Christ gives himself to us.   We can say that in faith we participate in and look upon this singular moment.  But is it faith that allows us to participate and to see?  The answer may be surprising since it would be no.  It is not through faith that we receive Christ since, after all, even a person with no faith who consumes the Holy Eucharist has indeed consumed Christ.  Whether or not he believes it, whether or not he understands it, whether he is well disposed to receive Him or not.    This is why non-Catholics should not receive Holy Communion, and this is why you and I, disfigured by mortal sin, likewise should not receive.   It is not by means of faith that we are called to the Lord’s table, rather it is by way of baptism and the other sacraments that we are invited and prepared.   In receiving communion, the inward union of our soul to Christ is outwardly expressed through a visible act of church unity.   To express outwardly the truth of this inward union is profound and not to be treated lightly.  And so, St. Paul warns us in the letter to the Corinthians that, “Each one must examine himself before he eats of the bread and drinks of the cup. For anyone who eats and drinks without recognizing the body eats and drinks judgment on himself.”   

Listening to St. Paul, we examine ourselves to be sure we are well disposed to receive the Holy Eucharist.  And so, we perform an examination of conscience as the church has taught us.  It is mortal sin that extinguishes our relationship with God and so to receive communion bearing mortal sin is itself sinful since we are declaring a unity and forcing a relationship that no longer exists. It is a lie.   For sure God continues to call each of us but we must be healed of mortal sin by means of confession before receiving communion.  Mortal sin is serious sin, considered before committing, and yet still willfully committed.  By remaining in mortal sin, the mind and heart of the sinner is darkened and the capacity to respond to the conscience continues to diminish with time.   This is why we should not go but run to confession, as the prodigal son, upon realizing his stupidity, would run home to his father.  Confession is our ICU.  

In reflecting upon mortal sin and the resulting spiritual disruption and darkening conscience, it is good to recall and meditate on the truth that, first, we were loved.  In fact, we were born by means of God wanting us to be.  It is a good, you and I are a good, that God wants.   Just as God spoke of his own son at his baptism before Jesus had accomplished anything, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.”  So, at our baptism God would speak of us as a loving, dotting Father saying, “you are mine.”  Our sinful actions hurt that relationship for sure, but first, before all else, we are loved, and our identity is to be found there and not in our sins despite what we may say to ourselves or what others may say to us.   

Knowing that truth, we confess our mortal sins but also strive to shed ourselves of lesser venial sins.  This is the task of the spiritual and devout life, to identify and root out our entanglements, our dependencies, our addictions, and all our vices, and to replace them with virtues.   So, each time we consume the Holy Eucharist we can be just that little bit closer to our Lord, a little more alive, a little bit better prepared for eternity.

But why am I preaching about sin when today is the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ?  It is because we are not approaching Jesus in the Eucharist empty handed.  Just as Jesus would give everything to the Father, so also, we give all we are into God’s hands.  And just as God the Father gives everything back to the son, so the Son of God, gives all that he is to us in the Eucharist – fully, completely, entirely, and lovingly.   How could you and I approach the sanctuary and give anything other than the very best versions of ourselves.

As we prepare now to receive Jesus let us do so with a commitment to cast far away any inclinations to sin, and to take up daily the challenges of the virtuous life.  May the outward sign of unity that we express truly reflect our inward spiritual communion from which all good things must come.  For as our Lord tell us, “The one who feeds on me will have life because of me.”  And in these words, we can find solace, rest, and peace.   

Deacon Peter, St., Agnes Parish, Arlington, Massachusetts
June 10, 2023

Deuteronomy 8:2-3, 14b-16a; Psalm 147:12-15, 19-20; 1 Corinthians 10:16-17; John 6:51-58

A - Seventh Sunday of Easter

We read in the New Testament about the many times that Jesus would slip away to pray and spend time alone and with His Father. At the start of his ministry and after his Baptism he went off to the wilderness for forty days for a time of extended prayer and fasting. And later we read in Luke how great crowds came to hear Jesus preach and to be healed, yet he would frequently withdraw to the wilderness to pray. And, as the end of his life approached, we read that while in the garden of Gethsemane, he withdrew from his disciples to pray by himself at this dark hour. For some it may be curious that Jesus would ever need to pray, for after all he was God - so some thoughtful souls may think his praying is somehow cyclical. But Jesus was not praying to himself, He was praying to his Father whom he loved, and to a Father who loved first. These times of prayer were deeply personal and profoundly relational. But what is it that Jesus would pray for?

In our Gospel reading today we can listen in as Jesus prays in preparation for the hour of his own crucifixion and death. This prayer is sometimes called Jesus's High Priestly Prayer since it is a prayer for petition, intercession and of mediation – prayers that are offered up to God by priests. If you read this chapter carefully you will see in it, reflections of both the Our Father prayer and the Eucharistic prayers we hear at Mass. Today we hear the first part of the High Priestly Prayer as Jesus prays for the Glorification of God and of his Son. In these words, both intimacy and love are made readily apparent. What we hear in Jesus’s prayer is played out in time as God the Father is glorified by Jesus and by his obedience and willingness to die for the sake of all humanity. Through this same sacrificial act Jesus himself is glorified by His Father. To be glorified means to make clearly apparent the fullness of God’s presence. This request for mutual glorification is a request that the eternal exchange of love and life between Father and Son be made manifest - let our love be revealed so all might see and know. The cross demonstrates both the love of the Father, who gives his one and only son for the salvation of all, and the Son who for the love of his Father obeys him in this perfect act of sacrifice and devotion. And so, the Glory of the Godhead is revealed and only further revealed, as Christ takes up his life again, demonstrating that neither sin nor death have power, but love and sacrifice do. God has already given authority over all people to the Son. By means of his glorious resurrection you and I now share in eternal life.

In praying for his disciples Jesus makes clear he does not pray for the world. Here the term 'world' means things to which the world inclines itself, towards selfishness, individual power, personal success at the price of another person, sin, evil, and darkness. Jesus's prayer is one of protection and unity in community and purpose, that we continue to remain in relationship with God and each other and in so doing to be seen by the world as giving glory to God. This is a prayer of petition since the way of the world is powerful and can certainly break the unity, community, and the family bonds that are fostered in love. In receiving the Word of God and the gift of relationship we inevitably find ourselves at odds with a world that may hate us, as it first hated Jesus. In the world, Jesus tells us, we will have trouble, but despite this we remain committed and united in Christ since this is the visible manifestation of our sharing in the divine communion. 

Our second reading from Peter reminds us that if we have trouble or suffer for our faith we do so in divine communion, since we are partaking in and are united to Christ’s suffering – joined to him, and not somehow suffering as one separated or alone. Though difficult or even terrible it is a participation in Christ’s cross and through this we are blessed since by this we believe we shall see the good things of the Lord in the land of the living. Our refuge is the Lord, and we desire to dwell in His house.

We know a little of Christ’s suffering and our part when we had, what can only be described as a significant and harrowing moment, as the largest satanic gathering every held took place at the Marriott hotel in Boston. Prudently the Archdiocese determined the appropriate response was one of prayer, at monasteries, convents, shrines, and churches. Here in Arlington, we gathered at St. Camillus for Eucharistic Adoration, prayer, and reflection. This was our upper room where we devoted ourselves with one accord to prayer and worship. It was a truly beautiful time of prayer in our community after which so many spoke positively of the experience and with smiles on their faces. Who would have thought that such a moment of trepidation and concern would have produced such blessing and peace. With Jesus with us, and the Holy Spirit guiding us, we would know God’s powerful and quiet presence and would experience something of his glory.

As community and as individuals we are to grow as people of prayer. Jesus continues to pray for the Church and for his disciples, and we are to do likewise. The world needs us, to continue to reflect God’s glory – the fullness of His presence. The world needs us, to be able to see that there is a radical way to live that is rich in purpose, strong in resilience, united in family, one in community, driven by love and selflessness. They need to learn what fear of the Lord means when we speak of it, and yet how deeply personal and profoundly relational our prayer life can be. By our example those broken by the world are given hope and a way forward. As Pope Francis has told us, we are a field hospital of aching and broken souls. I fear there will be only more souls broken, yet you and I have been placed in the here and now to be God’s field medics. We are to pray for and support our church and be ready to respond to the needs of those around us. We pray as community in the upper room, and individually and quietly on our own, as Jesus has taught us. This week, and as we prepare to welcome the Holy Spirit as at Pentecost, let us remain in prayer, glorifying God, offering any suffering and sacrifices, and asking for guidance on how to accomplish the work God has given each of us to do in this time and in this place.

Deacon Peter, St., Agnes Parish, Arlington, Massachusetts
May 27, 2023

Acts 1:12-14; Psalm 27:1-2, 4, 7, 8b; 1 Peter 4:13-16; John 17:1-11a

A - Third Sunday of Easter

The Road to Emmaus

Cleopas and his companion are leaving Jerusalem after the disastrous end to the onetime Jesus movement. Jesus had been a prophet of mighty word and deed, the one, they had thought, to redeem Israel, the one, they had hoped, would set them free. But a few powerful men were able to end all of that. Jesus had now been dead for three days - the time, in Jewish understanding, when a soul passes from this life to the next. Jesus was truly dead. For Cleopas and his companion, it was time to return to normal life.

Journeying from Jerusalem the two companions would travel steadily downhill as evening approached. As they walked the Risen Lord drew near to them, somehow unrecognizable, and asked about their conversation. They spoke of their dashed hopes and recounted the astounding story told by the woman, about the empty tomb and the vision of angels. But a lack of faith made this story fantastical and unbelievable. No, Jesus was dead, and these stories were just a flight of fancy. There was no reason for hope.

“Oh, how foolish you are”, Jesus says. Oh, how foolish we are. Slow of heart to believe all that the prophets spoke. From the beginning of time itself the plan of salvation would demand that Christ would take the burden of sin upon himself, would suffer, die, and having been resurrected, would enter his Glory. This moment was, and is, the very pinnacle of history from which all points of time come streaming, as if rays of light from the very heart of God himself. Jesus would go on to explain to the two disciples how “the Scriptures” point to the mystery of his person. Without Jesus’ help, they could not by themselves make the connection between what happened to Jesus and the writings of the Old Testament. Hearing and now understanding, their hearts would begin to burn – as if the crust formed by their hopelessness and faithlessness cracked and broke away to allow the Holy Spirit to make his presence felt. But this fire, now lite and burning, was yet to be consummated.

This holy consummation begins with the words, “stay with us”. Stay with us, because our hearts know there is yet more. Stay with us, because in your presence we begin to understand that our place in time and space is not random, nor without meaning. Stay with us, because by your Words we begin to comprehend God’s love, and the truth of everlasting life. As a man and woman marry because of the desire to stay with each other, we too wish to stay with the beloved. So, Jesus stays with Cleopas and his companion as requested, but only until they are able to recognize him fully and in a new way. And so it was that in the breaking of the bread that the realization of who their wayfarer friend was came crashing into their awareness. This is Jesus, and then, he vanishes. He vanishes but is not gone, rather he makes himself more present, intimately present, in a way hard to understand but nevertheless no less real. Jesus says, 'you ask me to stay with you. I will not only stay with you, but I will remain in you, and together we will remain in the Father. I will take what you ask of me and do so much more.'

The journey of our life too is one where hopelessness, faithlessness, darkness, can sadden our spirits. Yet Jesus journeys alongside us and can help guide our minds and hearts to a fuller understanding of our place in God’s plan for salvation. Our hearts will burn within us. Having understood, we too say, “stay with us”, and so are shepherded into the mystery of divine profundity and presence, by means of the Holy Eucharist.

The words spoken to the disciples that caused their hearts to burn was the bridge to the mystery of the presence of God in the breaking of bread. From reason and intellectual understanding, the two companions are now brought into the mystery of God, not as observers but as participants. This mystery impels them, as it does us today, to be a living part of the death and resurrection, and new life of Jesus. And it points by necessity to a future when Christ will come again at the end of time. Our participation in the Eucharist is the spiritual marriage of our soul with God at the very height of that singular point in history from which everything flows. This is not a remembrance nor a reenactment but rather we are made present to those very moments of death and resurrection, union, and life.

Our story concludes with the two disciples, now with hope restored, faith reignited, and nourished by the bread of life, immediately setting out for Jerusalem to be reunited with the Apostles. It was dark now, and their journey of seven miles would be uphill and with some risk from robbers and thieves.

As we now prepare to approach the Eucharist let us heed the words of Pope Saint John Paul II and be on guard against our inclination to reduce the Eucharist to our own dimension and ideas, rather let us open ourselves up to the dimension of Mystery, as our companions did on the Road to Emmaus. The same mystery to which we are invited to participate.

Deacon Peter – St., Agnes Parish, Arlington, Massachusetts
April 23rd, 2023