YOU MUST REMEMBER THIS
Dear Jesus,
Why are there so many who have to be jealous about you, controlling about who speaks and acts in your name? When I was a child and first getting to know you, those few actors who could speak in your behalf were clearly and narrowly defined and delineated, at least in my mind. The pope spoke. The bishop spoke. The priest spoke. The rest of us Catholic Christians listened and towed the line in response. Even in our worship, all was done for and before us. We accepted the dictum that we were not very well educated in theology and ecclesiology in those days. So I guess I shouldn’t be surprised in light of today’s sensibilities that we couldn’t have been trusted with weightier responsibilities then.
Were you uncomfortable with the attitudes we had then even about Eucharist? Maybe I wasn’t paying attention then. Certainly I wasn’t reading the right books. I don’t ever remember being told that Eucharist was more a verb than a noun, something to be done more than something to be adored, and something to be shared and imitated.
Granted, it was safer in those days of clearer definition, when moral decision-making was easier. We knew what sins were mortal and the primacy of importance to avoid sexual sins, all of which were mortal. We accepted that there was no such thing as a venial sexual sin. Not much was said about justice and peace issues. Oh, the church spoke, but in terms of importance, those teachings didn’t have nearly the impact that the warnings about sexual morality had on our consciences.
With such clear definition we knew our responsibility regarding Mass attendance, too. We knew we had to hear Mass on all Sundays and holy days of obligation. We did that by being present on those occasions, at least from the time the priest removed the chalice veil until he closed the tabernacle door after Communion. We weren’t even expected to share in the meal except visually. For most people, having to fast even from water from midnight before made it difficult to receive Communion at any Mass that started after 8AM. Some would try to last until a later Mass. There were frequent faintings at Mass in those days.
No wonder the noun Eucharist was more clearly understood by us than the verb Eucharist. You can adore nouns. Verbs require action.
I keep using we when I guess honesty should force me to use I. I am writing this to you acknowledging my own shortcomings and limitations in terms of response. Do you remember how popular the shorter, quieter Masses used to be? The quieter aspects allowed people to get through their rosaries and other private devotions while Mass was going on. By today’s standards that would be missing Mass. When I had something important pending, I could get to Mass at 6AM and be on my way by 6:40 – 6:30 if just a few people went to Communion. That can’t happen today, at least in most parishes.
I’m confessing past attitudes to you, even as I am hoping you will help me adapt and change in light of what some would call newer insights that to me sound like an attempt to return us to those ways. I’m not sure I can endure those unless you help me. Don’t you see that I have embraced the newer ways that to me are far more demanding?
Did you send that person to mock me and leave me shaken and unsettled because he asked me: “Do you think the church is a supernatural welfare state holding entitlements to grace for the submissive? Or do you think the church exists not to serve itself, but to serve the Liturgy of the World?” I thought it was nervy of him to speak that way to me since he isn’t even one of us, if you catch my meaning. Then he quoted Karl Rahner’s description of that terrible and sublime liturgy, breathing death and sacrifice that God celebrates…throughout the free history of men and women…throughout the whole length and breadth of this colossal history of birth and death. Now how am I supposed to react to that?
Do you know how disturbing that line of thinking is? It’s far more demanding than some might think they can face every time they go to Mass. If we enter into that kind of celebration every Sunday, soon what will be left of us? Maybe that is why some liked it better when they used to hear the bell and know that the bread and wine had been changed and you were there. Now we have to wonder if that is enough. What if only the bread is changed and I am not? Or could I use we here again? We understand today that this action is, after all, something you challenge us to do as the people of God, the body of Christ, the church.
Is this the kind of violence to self we should expect when we enter into worship that demands such total transformation? That shouldn’t surprise us. After all, you spoke in terms of cutting off a hand, or a foot, in terms of plucking out an eye if any of these hindered our journey toward the Kingdom. Maybe that would be easier than to meet the demands of Eucharist properly celebrated. Because when we finish that, we still have to allow ourselves to be broken and poured out in service.
May I be honest with you? As demanding as this present understanding of Eucharistic Liturgy is, I love it and want to continue to experience its transforming power. I think it is more than pride that makes me resent the attempt to turn the clock back and return us to the practices of those olden days of my childhood.
Still, what can I do? I have to listen to and obey those that speak for you. So when the changes begin this Advent, I will submit. Secretly, I may continue to hold the attitudes and values I have gleaned from my present understanding of Eucharist even if I won’t be able to express them. And I’ll pray for the day when the Spirit moves us forward again.
Could you get back to me about all of this? Could you let me know what you expect of me?
Sincerely,
Didymus
