The Joy and Solace of the Eucharist
I’m writing this just three days after having celebrated the Easter Vigil. The wonderfully complex and beautiful Vigil liturgy is in many ways the highpoint of my year as a priest and pastor. With its combination of darkness and light, silence and song, the Vigil never ceases to move me.
I’m writing this just three days after having celebrated the Easter Vigil. The wonderfully complex and beautiful Vigil liturgy is in many ways the highpoint of my year as a priest and pastor. With its combination of darkness and light, silence and song, the Vigil never ceases to move me.
This year, the moment that stands out to me was the reception of Eucharist for the very first time by those who were baptized, confirmed and welcomed into the Church. The expressions on the faces of those neophytes (a great Greek word for a newly-initiated Christian) can be so sublime. Since their preparation began, they have been dismissed from the assembly. They were told that all of us were praying for them, that they are beloved, and that we looked forward to the time when they could join us in receiving the Eucharist. Through those months of preparation, a sense of anticipation built.
As they came forward to receive the Precious Body and the Precious Blood, they each had looks of such anticipation on their faces. In consuming the Eucharist, those looks transformed to what I would characterize as looks of bliss and peace. I pray that they will always have such looks on their faces—anticipation, joy and peace.
One of my favorite Eucharist stories happened many years ago, in the first year of my priesthood. We were gathered in the church for the first of two very large First Communion Masses that Saturday, and I will remember that day for as long as I live.
One of the first communicants in my line at the time of the sharing of communion stepped forward, hands held high, just as he had been taught. As I placed the Body of Christ in his outstretched hands, he replied with a heartfelt, “Amen.” He carefully took the host in his hand, held it up, and said, in the best stage whisper I’ve ever heard, “I finally got Him!” That young boy’s earnest smile matched the excitement in his voice. Consuming the Body of Christ, he made his way back to his pew with his classmates. To this day, I think it was only by the grace of God that I didn’t fall over.
It’s May and the time when parishes celebrate First Communion. I share these two stories because I think both our neophytes and that young first communicant of so long ago have much to teach us and to remind us. When we come forward to receive the Eucharist, we should have within ourselves this mix of joy and contentment. The Lord of Life wishes to be a part of us so much that he gives us his very Body and Blood to nourish and sustain us. Stories and incidents like these remind us that we can never take the privilege of receiving the Eucharist for granted. It is a gift given to us by God to fill us with life, to bring us hope, to offer us peace, to fulfill our deepest longings for union with God and with one another. It brings healing to broken hearts and mercy to those who feel unloved. It is the very source and summit of who we are called to be and to become. And so, in joy and contentment, our journey in FAITH continues.