Looking back at the weekly messages of Father Paul Counce, first published in The Carpenter, our weekly Parish Bulletin
Published: May 29, 2016
A friend of mine, Deacon Greg Kandra of Brooklyn, New York, tells a story about Dorothy Day, the famous servant of God who founded the Catholic Worker soup kitchen ministry and newspaper of the same name. On one occasion she hosted a small group Mass for which, accidentally and unfortunately, a full set of proper sacred vessels was not brought. The priest instead had to use a common cup from her kitchen as the chalice. After Mass was over, Dorothy picked up the cup and went out back: she kissed the cup and immediately buried it in her garden.
With that simple gesture of devotion, Dorothy Day showed that she understood something that too many people, even Catholics who should know better, often do not. Since Christ becomes truly present in the bread and wine that are consecrated at Mass, that cup could never be used in an ordinary way again. Things that are ordinary, when they encounter the truly extraordinary, are transformed and changed forever. In fact, Miss Day understood the power and reality of Jesus Christ, present in the Blessed Sacrament.
This weekend we celebrate this. The Solemnity of Corpus et Sanguinis Christi – Latin for “the Body and Blood of Christ” – is the feast of the world’s most extraordinary thing. It touches other things we possess, but even more importantly, it touches us.
And this thing is Christ the Lord Himself. The Sacred Host and Precious Blood aren’t symbols or merely traditional ingredients. They are the body, blood, soul, divinity, humanity, grace and real presence of Jesus. In receiving holy communion – in fact, even in merely adoring the host and contents of the chalice – we come into contact with Him.
This ought immediately to inspire greater reverence within us. Centuries ago, St. Cyril of Jerusalem described the Mass as celebrated in his day, including the reception of holy communion. Many have been struck by his descriptions which mirror well our practice still:
In approaching…make your left hand a throne for the right, as for that which is to receive a King. And having hollowed your palm, receive the Body of Christ, saying over it, “Amen.” Then…partake of it, careful not to lose any portion of it…For tell me, if any one gave you grains of gold, would you not hold them with supreme care, guarding against losing any? You should then much more carefully keep watch here, that not a crumb of what is more precious than gold and precious stones be lost.
Then after you have partaken of the Body of Christ, draw near also to the Cup of His Blood, bowing low…and in worship and reverence saying, “Amen”… And give thanks to God, who has accounted you worthy of such great mysteries.
Hold fast to these practices undefiled, free from offense. Do not stay away from communion, and do not deprive yourselves, through the pollution of sin, of the grace of these spiritual mysteries. (On the Mysteries, 5:21-23).
Do we understand all of this that well, though, nowadays? Often the distribution of communion seems too automatic, with neither minister nor recipient truly realizing what is going on. But what really is happening is that an unimaginable gift is being shared. Something astounding is being placed into our hands, or onto our tongues: we are being given God. It is not something to be taken for granted, another part of the ritual. It is Christ Himself. He who offers salvation from sin and death is transformed into something that can be held in the palm of one’s hand.
Once upon a time, a priest who was getting ready for Mass, and accidentally dropped some unconsecrated communion wafers onto the floor. As he picked them up, just ordinary wafers, unconsecrated, to throw them out, the thought struck him: “Just think,” he said to himself, “what this could have become!”
But this is true for us, too. When we receive the Body and Blood of Jesus we are supposed to be changed as well. We become living tabernacles, so to speak, with God dwelling within us. If we receive worthily we become holier: this is a profound grace, perhaps the greatest gift of this Most Blessed Sacrament.
Knowing this, what ought we now do? Transformed by our taking the Lord inside of us, in turn we should go out to transform the world! Instead of returning to lives of ordinary pursuits, since we now carry something extraordinary, we can and should be instruments of God’s own work in the world. Since we have been changed, we are more fitting instruments of Christ, co-workers of Christ, bearers of Christ.
Dorothy Day knew that an ordinary cup that had contained the Blood of Christ could never be just a cup again. Well, what’s true for that cup is true for each of us. Once we have received him, we can never be the same again. How we go on to use this knowledge of what has changed us remains the biggest challenge of all for us!
