An old Russian chronicle called "The Tale of Bygone Years” tells
how, at the end of the first millennium (in the year 988, to be
exact), Vladimir, the Prince of Kiev, made a decision that would
have profound consequences for the peoples of Russia and the
Ukraine.
Prince Vladimir was
a pagan – which made him fair game for missionaries and
proselytizers, whether Christian, Jewish, or Muslim. They were all
eager for him to give up his pagan ways and convert to their
religion and, of course, to bring his people along with him.
So, the prince
decided to do some investigating. He sent a delegation abroad to
observe their respective worship services. When the delegation
arrived in Constantinople, they entered the great cathedral church
of Hagia Sophia and witnessed the solemn liturgy of the Mass. As the
story goes, they quickly wrote this report back to Prince Vladimir
in Kiev: "We knew not whether we were in heaven or on earth, for on
earth there is no such splendor or such beauty, and we are at a loss
how to describe what we witnessed. We know only that God dwells
there among the people!"
Legend has it that
the beginnings of Christianity in the Ukraine and in Russia can be
traced to that one splendid celebration of the liturgy in
Constantinople. So, never underestimate the power of liturgy! At its
best, liturgy draws back the veil that hides heaven from earth,
blurs the barrier separating time from eternity. At its best,
liturgy gives us a glimpse of God. That’s true for the people of
Ukraine even at this awful moment when, in the heat of unjust
aggression, they come together in their churches to celebrate the
liturgy in praise of God and to gain strength.
It’s true of this
liturgy, too, my friends. Every time we celebrate the Eucharist, we
get to touch eternity. Every time we break the bread and eat it;
every time we bless the cup of wine and share it among ourselves, we
are touching divinity, tasting divinity – receiving as our food and
drink the Body and Blood of Christ given as food for our journey. In
this and every Eucharistic liturgy we are meant to experience the
awesome presence of God or, to use the words of the Prince Vladimir
story, we come to know that “here God dwells among the people.”
Given the greatness
of this sacrament, then, is it any wonder that we lavish such care
on the way we celebrate it? Is it any wonder that down through the
ages people have built great churches and towering cathedrals,
thinking no effort too great, no cost too much? Is it any wonder
that we surround the celebration of the Eucharist with only the
finest and the best that human effort and human genius can provide
whether in music, architecture, art, artifact, or ritual? Why would
we ever settle for second best?
The Corpus Christi
procession that has become such a marvelous tradition here at St.
James is yet one more sign of just how seriously we take all this,
one more sign of our belief and our joy in the real and abiding
presence of Jesus who comes so close to his people in simple
sacramental signs: in bread that is his Body broken for us, and in
the cup that holds his blood poured out for us.
But, my friends,
Corpus Christi celebrates and speaks of not just the blessed
sacrament of Christ’s Body and Blood, the Eucharist; it celebrates
and speaks of another sacrament, too - the Church – which, while we
may not always think of it this way, is itself a sacrament, the
sacrament of Christ, the living embodiment of the presence of
Christ. It is no accident at all that Church and Eucharist have the
same name. Both are Corpus Christi, both are the Body of Christ. And
you can’t have one without the other. Without the Church, the holy
People of God, there can be no Eucharist because Jesus makes himself
sacramentally present only when the Church gathers for prayer in his
name. But the reverse is equally true: without the Eucharist there
can be no Church because the Eucharist builds up the Church and
nourishes it - nourishes us who, without the Eucharist, would soon
die of hunger.
My friends, I am not
playing with words here. I am pointing to a profound mystery. Our
Catholic faith affirms the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist,
yes, but no matter how great our faith in that Presence of Jesus, if
his presence is not every bit as real for us when it comes to people
- all people without exception, but especially the poor – then we
are involving ourselves in a glaring contradiction.
In one of his
sermons, the great St. John Chrysostom, Bishop of Constantinople and
Father of the Church, said all this in a most memorable way. “Do you
wish to honor the body of Christ?” he asked. “Do not neglect it when
you find it naked or in need. Do not do it homage here in the church
with gold and incense and silk fabrics, only to neglect it outside
where it suffers cold and nakedness.”
Mother Teresa of
Kolkata said the same thing in a slightly different, but no less
striking, way. “The Body of Christ,” she once wrote, “is one. In the
Eucharist we find Christ under the appearances of bread and wine.
And each day of our lives we find Christ under the appearances of
flesh and blood. It is the same Christ!”
Make no mistake, my
friends. Mother Teresa is right: it is the same Christ!
Father Michael G. Ryan
|
|
