There are many
people who look at Catholics, and they see lots of striving, lots of
empty or vain movements toward God in some effort to become holy.
When they see so many Catholics going through the daily, weekly
rituals, they see people seeking God through “religion” –
man-made religion – whether it be through prayers of the daily
Rosary or the Stations of the Cross, the daily reception of the Holy
Eucharist or even once in a lifetime events like receiving
Confirmation. Upon entering into the life of the Church, though, we
see these practices of the Catholic come to life in many ways, and to
really be gifts of God in his love to seek out and meet poor sinners
at where they are, drawing them into his very heart.
When we read the
Gospels, we meet a Jesus who is compassionate and fully human; we
meet a Jesus who has become one of us in every way, and shares his
life with us in the flesh, through the things of this world. He heals
with his fingers in the ears of a deaf man, and his own spit placed
on the man's tongue to make him speak (Mark 7:13-35). His power goes
out through the hem of his cloak, to heal one woman's disease (Mark
5:2-34). With his own breath, he imparts the Spirit of God unto the
apostles, and with it the authority to forgive sins (John 20:22-23).
But his desire to encounter people in tangible ways did not stop with
his ascension into heaven. He continues now to pursue souls through
the continuation of his body – the Church, which is the fullness of
him (Ephesians 1:22-23).
In the book of
Acts, we see those tangible realities of Christ's continued mission
of seeking and encountering those who are lost and in darkness, those
who are in need of healing and forgiveness. With the mission given by
Jesus to the apostles to baptize, St. Peter could confidently call
others to the waters to receive God's gifts: “'Repent, and be
baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ so that your
sins may be forgiven; and you will receive the gift of the Holy
Spirit'” (Acts 2:38 NRSVCE). Water itself becomes a means of our
salvation, and the Spirit meets us there to wash us (1 Peter 3:21).
In other places, the apostles worked miracles of healing by the
handkerchiefs that had touched their skin and their shadows that were
cast over the sick (Acts 19:12; 5:15-16). It was through simple,
lowly things of this world that individuals encountered the healing
love of Christ.
The heart of the
Church is the Eucharist itself – Jesus' full presence in bread and
wine. In the Eucharist, Jesus calls us to be united with his own soul
and divinity, through his body and blood. St. Thérèse
of Lisieux saw in the Blessed Sacrament of Holy Communion Jesus' own
burning love for souls. In her own heart, she heard the words of
Jesus just before dying on the Cross echoed: “I thirst” (John
19:28). And with this word, her own soul burned with love for Jesus
and for souls. Many other saints have witnessed and told of Jesus'
love, which burns with unquenchable flames in their souls through the
Eucharist. He longs so deeply for union with our own souls,
especially those of us who are poor and miserable – to wash us in
his mercy. There is no chasm that Christ cannot fill with his love
and mercy for us in the Eucharist. In a tiny host of bread, he
humbles himself to become our source of life (see John 6:55). This is
the truest encounter with Christ possible, until heaven.
From the Eucharist
flows all other encounters with Jesus throughout the Catholic life.
Our prayers are filled with meditation on this most pure Sacrifice in
the Eucharist, made fully present to us in the now. So, we pray the
Rosary, which has it's source in the Word of God. It is a most holy
meditation on the life of Christ with his mother, who was there with
him and shared in his sufferings and glory (as we will, too, if we
endure). We pray the Stations of the Cross to keep his love for us in
our hearts and our minds. Through these deep prayers of faith, hope
and love, we encounter the person of Jesus Christ and dialogue with
him. We share our lives with his, and we offer them up to him and
through him; for any of our prayers, any of our works of love or
mercy, are only valid in him and through him. We can do nothing apart
from him (John 15:5).
Suffering does
continue and grow, and we struggle. We must take up the Cross to
follow Jesus, if we receive the grace from true encounters with him.
Yet, we are weak and we fall. Our misery overwhelms us, perhaps. Our
sinfulness becomes too real to look at straight on. But we do not
deny it. Instead, we run to him who is love, who is mercy itself. We
run to him in the Confessional. We pour out our hearts, and accuse
ourselves before his mercy. There, he forgives us through his
servant. He tells us without a doubt that we are clean again. He
strengthens us in this encounter, as he breaths his spirit again upon
us. “This son of mine was dead and is alive again,” the Father
says (Luke 15:24 NRSVCE). We are again united with his body, the
Church (for we cannot offend the love of the one, without offending
the unity of both). We are one bread, one body, having our source in
the Eucharist.
If our suffering is
through grave illness, we call upon his body again, in the Sacrament
of Anointing of the Sick. We confess our sins, if possible, as St.
James tells us to do (James 5:14-16). The priests will then anoint us
with holy oils, and impart grace to our bodies and our souls; for we
are not just spirits. Through this holy sacrament, we find the Lord
not leaving us in death, nor casting away these physical bodies, but
caring for our entire person as the great Healer touches us. He
created us, body and soul, and loves us through and through. He will
not leave us, nor forsake us (Hebrews 13:5). The same Jesus who
reached out and touched the lepers still touches us today.
These prayers and
these Sacraments, you see, then, are not the empty rituals made up by
man. Instead, they are the gifts of God to his Church, his people
whom he has redeemed. Even more, he is calling all souls to his love,
to his unfathomable mercy, through these gifts of encounter with him.
He constantly yearns and thirsts for the love of souls, especially
poor sinners like you and me. There is no darkness he cannot cast
away with his light. There is no depth he cannot reach with his
grace. He has gone beyond the realms of the dead to bring us to
himself, to unite us to himself. Will we not accept his graces? Will
we not see his mercies? Will we not meet him there where he awaits
for us in his humble gifts, longing to unite us to his love and heal
us of our our illnesses and our brokenness?
See also, Quotes on the Eucharist:
