One word that came to mind as I reflected
on the readings for this wonderful feast of Corpus Christi was the word,
‘remember.’ In one way or another remembering is a theme that runs all
through the readings. We heard it in the passage from the Book of
Deuteronomy when Moses addressed the chosen people who could all too
easily forget all the wonders God had worked for them: forget how God
had brought them out of the land of Egypt, that place of slavery and
oppression; forget how God had traveled with them through the barren
waste of the desert for forty long years; forget how God had come to
their rescue when they were dying of thirst, giving them flowing water
that gushed forth from dry, flinty rock; forget, too, of how God had
taken pity on them when they were hungry, feeding them with the
miraculous manna, that mysterious bread that God rained down on them
each day from heaven.
Remember, do not forget, remember, Moses told these people who had
gotten so used to God's presence that too often they took it for
granted.
That
same note of remembering runs through the other scriptures we have heard
this morning as well. In the second reading, we heard St. Paul doing his
best to jog the failing memories of his friends at Corinth who had lost
some of the freshness and wonder of what it meant to gather to break
bread in memory of the Lord Jesus. Some very unworthy considerations had
begun to take over their assemblies - such as who was the most important
and who should get the best seats at table. So taken up were they with
their petty and selfish concerns that they were ignoring those in their
midst who were poor and in need.
And
so, Paul urged them to remember that the Eucharist is meant to unite,
never to divide: "the many who eat the one bread become one Body in
Christ," he tells them. He wants them to remember that the Body of
Christ is not just something they receive but someone they become.
And
then the words of John's gospel spoken by Jesus long ago in the
Synagogue at Capernaum are also meant to awaken sluggish memories to
what this bread and this cup are all about: They are about life,
the very life of Jesus given for us: his Body broken for us, his Blood
poured out in sacrificial love. "Truly, truly I say to you, unless
you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no
life in you." The bread and the cup are about life: Christ’s life in us
and eternal life with God.
Do
you believe this? Of course you do. You wouldn't be here if you didn't.
But you can forget it, and so can I. Or at least we can get so used to
it that we take it for granted and too often fail to get very excited
about it.
The
Feast of Corpus Christi is meant to rekindle our excitement, our sense
of wonder about what is we are doing every time we gather to celebrate
the Eucharist.
Some
time ago, I came across an article in America magazine in which a Jesuit
missionary who had just returned from Nigeria wrote eloquently about the
Church there. He described the Church there as young, vibrant, and
enthusiastic. He told how one very poor parish summoned people to Mass
Sunday after Sunday. The church bell was a wheel rim from an old truck
that hung from a tree next to the village church. Minutes before Mass
someone began banging that rim with a piece of pipe. It wasn't, he
admitted, the most beautiful sound in the world, but it did the trick.
Within minutes a thousand people were gathered in that place to
celebrate the Eucharist.
They
came together, he said, laughing and talking animatedly with each other.
They seemed to know instinctively what it meant to be part of the Body
of Christ. And their faith was evident in the way they treated one
another, showing respect, love and care for each other long before they
ever approached the table of the Eucharist.
He
then went on to describe the Corpus Christi procession that took place
in that same village. I quote:
"On
Corpus Christi day the Lord sent rain. And all along the two-mile
route of the Corpus Christi procession the people danced and sang in the
rain. It was the first time I recall the Blessed Sacrament being carried
into the place of Benediction to the sound of resounding cheering and
clapping. Everyone was drenched, but no one thought of seeking shelter
or running away. Judges, lawyers, day laborers, doctors, mothers
and children stood there in awe as if nothing was happening except the
Eucharist."
I
like that thought: "Nothing was happening but the Eucharist." It’s
exactly what I would hope we would take from this year's celebration of
Corpus Christi: an awakened memory of what the Eucharist is and Who it
is we receive in the Eucharist; a renewed faith in what it means to
receive the Body of Christ and to become that very body; a deeper
reverence and care for each other in this parish community - whether we
know each other or not - because we are all of us the Body of Christ:
made one by the one Bread we eat and the one Cup we drink.
And I
would hope, too that what was said of those people in the Nigerian
village could be said of us as well: that whenever we come together to
celebrate in this holy place, "we stand in awe as if nothing was
happening but the Eucharist!"
Father Michael G. Ryan
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