I mentioned in last week’s homily that the readings and liturgy of
the two Sundays following Pentecost are intended to recall to mind
and to celebrate the two most fundamental and important dogmas of
our faith as Roman Catholics. Last Sunday, we recalled to mind and
celebrated the dogma of the Most Holy Trinity. Today, we recall to
mind and celebrate the Body and Blood of Christ, what’s been
traditionally referred to in Latin as “Corpus Christi.”
Here’s the dogma of Corpus Christi according to the
Catechism of the Catholic Church:
At the heart of the Eucharistic celebration are the bread and wine
that, by the words of Christ and the invocation of the Holy Spirit,
become Christ’s Body and Blood….The signs of bread and wine become,
in a way surpassing understanding, the Body and Blood of Christ;
they continue also to signify the goodness of creation. (#1333)
So, what’s
the
“big idea”?
The bread and wine we offer from the altar become the Body and Blood
of Jesus Christ, what’s called the “Real Presence.” The bread and
wine are not symbols, as most Protestant denominations believe. No,
for Roman Catholics, the Eucharist is the body and the blood of
Christ—really and truly present. It’s a sacrament of love. It’s
the sign of our unity. And, it’s what binds us together as the
People of God. When we partake of the Eucharist, Jesus Christ
enters into us, unites with us, and provides the spiritual
nourishment we need to discover what it means and also what it
requires of us to live as God’s sons and daughters.
I also mentioned in last week’s homily that dogma puts into
language—articulates in human words—an idea that was first based in
questions and reflection upon human experience. We Roman Catholics
oftentimes get things backwards, thinking that the idea—what we once
read in or memorized from the Catechism of the Catholic Church—is
what’s most important. So, we reduce dogma to ideas and neglect to
enter into or forget altogether the experience from which the idea
expressed in the Catechism was derived. “Absent the
experience,” I said, “the idea is meaningless.” “But,” I added,
“when we enter into the experience, we begin to discover the mystery
and experience awe of the divine that raised all of the questions
and reflections and is only alluded to in the idea.”
So, today’s challenge—the “Dogmatic Challenge 2”—is to look at our
ordinary, daily experience in order to discover the mystery of the
Real Presence and to experience a sense of awe of the divine that
should cause us to tremble and is only alluded to in the idea. What
we shall do is reflect upon how the statement “Everybody takes me
for granted” can help us test ourselves and the degree of our love
of and appreciation for the Eucharist.
One of the biggest complaints I hear these days is “Everybody takes
me for granted.” Mothers, in particular, seem to be experiencing
all sorts of frustration and hurt. Why? Just about everything they
do for the members of their families doesn’t seem to be appreciated
by anyone.
Even when Mom asks, kids don’t complete simple chores—like cleaning
their bedrooms—because, kids figure, “Mom will do it” or, worse yet,
“I’ll do it after she really gets mad and threatens to take
something away or to kill me.” What kids don’t think all that much
about is how much time and energy Mom is already devoting to
completing her household chores, things like dusting and vacuuming,
doing the laundry and ironing, and tidying up after all the messes
that everyone makes and leaves behind…for Mom to clean up. Those
are just simple basics for which kids oftentimes take their mothers
for granted.
In a valiant but perhaps vain effort to prepare nutritious meals
that will appeal to each and every member of the family, think about
all of the hard work that mothers put into making those meals:
there’s menu planning, then shopping, cooking the meal, setting the
table, and the like. But, all of that oftentimes appears to count
for little or means absolutely nothing when family members come late
for meals, don’t change from their “play clothes” into clean
clothes, wash their hands before sitting down at the table, or when
family members turn their noses up when Mom serves the meal and the
griping starts, “Why do I have to eat this? I don’t like it.”
Then, after ruining everyone’s meal and making Mom feel like all of
her efforts were wasted, someone asks, “Can I leave now?” As if
mothers are trying to poison the members of their families!
In these and so many other ways, mothers feel frustrated and hurt
because the members of their families take them for granted. In
their worst moments, mothers dream of life in the Garden of Eden
where everyone always chipped in and performed every one of those
simple basics that made family life so much easier back there, when
family members came on time and were cleaned up and appropriately
garbed before sitting down to eat, and absolutely no one griped
about what was being served. Boy, that’s when mothers were really
appreciated!
Based upon what I am told, many of us—no matter what our
circumstance or situation in life—feel frustrated and hurt that the
members of our families take us for granted. But, that’s not all.
Spouses take each other for granted. Children take Dad for
granted. Grandchildren take their grandparents for granted, except
of course at Christmas. Friends and neighbors are taken for
granted. Bosses take employees for granted. From my perspective,
it seems as if everyone believes they are being taken for granted.
It sure is easy, isn’t it, to point the finger of blame at all of
those people? Doesn’t
it feel good to take
consolation knowing that all of those people are supremely selfish
and they really only care about us and appreciate us when their real
goal is to get us to do something for them?
Know the experience? Been there? Felt that way?
The origins of that frustration and hurt have to do with the lack of
respect we receive when we show our love and appreciation for
others. All of those chores and all of those meals reveal a
mother’s love and appreciation for each member of the family.
Mothers don’t do all of that stuff because they have to. No, they
do it because they want to. Their motivation is not selfish but
selfless because love for and appreciation of others drive them.
And, if mothers weren’t to do all of those things, it would reveal a
selfish not a selfless motive.
Now, how might this experience provide the dogmatic challenge that
tests us concerning the degree of our love for and appreciation of
the Eucharist?
Rather than hosting a pity party for ourselves and blaming everyone
else for taking us for granted, today’s
solemnity asks us:
“How do you demonstrate you love for and appreciation of Jesus
Christ for the gift of his body and blood?”
So, what about those basics?
1) Do I keep my “spiritual bedroom” neat and clean? Have I examined
my conscience carefully—you know, studied my thoughts, words, and
actions—to learn a little more about my shortcomings and failures so
that I might turn to and learn from Jesus about changing from
selfishness to selflessness and becoming a stronger disciple who
demonstrates this change by my holiness of life? Have I prayed,
read scripture, and studied the Catechism of the Catholic Church
to learn a little more how and why Jesus gave himself for my
salvation?
Or, is it really the truth that I make all sorts of messes in my
life, leave them sitting there in my spiritual bedroom, and take
Jesus’ gift of salvation for granted as I go about doing what I want
to do, when I want to do it, and how I want to do it irrespective of
anyone or anything else? Is it really the truth that I’m not all
that much interested at all in becoming a better disciple and I only
pray—forget reading scripture or studying the Catechism—when
I want something from God?
Those are just the basics.
2) How about the spiritual meal Jesus has prepared for us? Just how
have I prepared to participate in this Eucharist today—the Word of
God and the Sacrament of Life—which Jesus Christ is giving me to
nourish and strengthen me in holiness? Did I change into good
clothes and wash myself—at least my hands—before coming to this
sacred meal? Did I grumble and complain that I don’t like
what’s served at this meal and that I even have to come? Did I come
on time—or even, a little early—for this meal, and will I stay for
dessert after the main course is served?
Or, is it really the truth that I just go through the motions? I
come to Mass because I am forced to or fear what will happen if I
don’t. I “squeeze Mass” in between the really more important stuff
in my life, like watching television or surfing the Internet, text
messaging on my cell phone, cheerleading or soccer, field hockey or
baseball, football, volleyball, or basketball? I show up at Mass
wearing my dirty “play clothes” not my “Sunday best” and not having
even washed my hands. I habitually come to Mass late—even each fall
on the weekend when I get an extra hour of sleep, “fall behind,
spring forward” you know—and I leave early because other things
really are much more important to me. What counts most is me
not anything or anyone else.
In these and so many other ways, I bet Jesus feels just like many
mothers do―frustrated
and hurt―that
so many members of his family—the People of God—take his Body and
Blood so much for granted. Jesus probably never dreamed so many
people could care less (or be careless in their attitude) about what
he’s offering in this meal consisting of his Body and Blood.
Motivated solely by love and appreciation for us, Jesus gave his
life for us and remains really and truly present with us in the
Eucharist. In this sacrament, Jesus comes to us, unites with us,
and nourishes us so that we will know better what it means to live
as God’s sons and daughters.
The question the
“Dogmatic
Challenge 2”
puts before us on Corpus Christi is: “Just how much do I love
and appreciate the Eucharist?”
A student I taught in high school years more than two decades ago is
now a Methodist minister serving as a hospital chaplain. In his
ministry, Michael has encountered many Protestants who have asked
him for Holy Communion. What’s ironic about Michael’s experience is
that most Protestant denominations teach that Holy Communion is not
a sacrament but merely a symbol representing the Body and Blood of
Christ. However, when confronted by illness or disease, Michael
noted, Protestants tend not to be interested in hearing words from
scripture or the fellowship offered by members of their
congregations―what
their faith teaches as constituting Christ’s real presence. No,
what they want is the Sacrament itself, Christ’s Real Presence.
We have the Sacrament—the Real Presence—made present each time we
gather to celebrate the Eucharist.
Mother’s Day (and Father’s Day, too) challenges us to question and
to reflect upon our love for and appreciation of our mothers (and
fathers). The Church presents us the dogma of Corpus Christi
today so that we will strengthen our love for and appreciation of
the Body and Blood of Christ by questioning and reflecting upon this
divine gift which Jesus so freely gives us. To the degree that
we’ve become so accustomed to and taken the Eucharist for granted,
we need to change by reordering our priorities so that we will
discover the mystery and experience awe of the divine that is only
alluded to in the dogma, that is, the idea.
The thought of inviting Christ to make his home in us should cause
us to tremble. But, the gift Jesus gives us should fill us
with great joy as his Body and Blood transform us into his Real
Presence alive and at work in our marriages, families, and world.
How? As we selflessly demonstrate our love for others through
words and actions that communicate our deep and heartfelt
appreciation for Jesus Christ who abides in them. |