An old chronicle from the Middle Ages 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 Slavic peoples.
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 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 a war of unjust aggression, they still
gather in their churches to celebrate the liturgy to praise
God and to gain strength and courage.
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 one of our great
Cathedral traditions 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 of 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 share 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
striking 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. What benefit is
it to Christ if the table for the sacrifice is laden with golden vessels
while he dies of hunger in the person of the poor.”
And he concluded with these words: Do not close your heart to
your suffering brother or sister. They are the living temple, more
precious than any made of stone.”
My friends, these are things you know very well and things you
practice very well. It’s part of what makes us the wonderful parish we
are. But it doesn’t hurt to be reminded, and this feast is the perfect
reminder. We are the Body of Christ – all of us without exception but in
a special way, those who feel excluded. We are the Body of Christ and
now we are to receive the Body of Christ in the Eucharist. Make no
mistake: it is the same Christ. It is the same Christ!
Father Michael G. Ryan
|
|
