As we begin this Sacred Triduum under a nearly global quarantine. I’d like to share with you one of my fears. It doesn’t involve the virus; It doesn’t involve the state of economies and personal finances. It doesn’t involve all of the unknown factors still swirling around us. While those are important concerns in their own right, I’m not afraid of all of those. My fear, brothers and sisters, is for the souls of our Catholic family around the world once our churches are able to open their doors again.
In the 18th Chapter of Luke’s Gospel, Jesus tells the parable of the persistent widow, who continually goes to her local judge for a just ruling against her opponent. The judge who is unjust renders a just judgement for the woman so that he will not have to be bothered by her any longer. His motivation to render justice is convenience; her motive for justice is to encounter the truth.
This parable is introduced by Luke as a teaching by Jesus on the “need to pray always and not to lose heart.” It is a parable to remind the disciples of Jesus to keep seeking the heart of the just judge — God, who as often as we go to Him, will show us the Truth quickly. And as we are shown the Truth who is Jesus, we then must make a choice to accept the justice only He can bring, or to go to another lesser, human, likely unjust court and attempt to manipulate the truth into something more convenient that we can call truth.
The parable ends with a promise and question. Jesus says, “I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them. And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”
Faith in God, and in His Only Son Jesus, is essential for our salvation. It is essential for us to have a chance at our final judgement. The Lord’s judgement will always be true and just, but will we, by our persistent prayer, come to align our entire lives with what God tells us is true?
My fear, my brothers and sisters, is that after this is all over, when our churches are open for public worship, our parish offices and diocesan chanceries are functioning at full capacity, and our priests are ready to offer the Eucharistic Sacrifice that we celebrate here tonight for the salvation of souls and of the whole world, that they will be nearly empty.
“What? Father, surely that is an unfounded fear! We are clamoring to come back to church!” I hear you say.
Yes, some are. I would venture to say those of you watching live streams of the Mass, one of the many catechism lessons or devotions being offered by deacons, priests, and bishops are very much well-past-ready to be back at the altar of The Lord. But how many in the time of this long desert of quarantine have found lesser courts that have rendered a judgement of convenience?
“Oh, it’s being streamed? I can just watch from home at my convenience.” “You see, this proves that I don’t need to go to Church on Sunday.” “I knew it, grace isn’t real. I don’t feel any different not having gone to Communion or Confession these many weeks. It’s all just a racket to make me feel guilty.” “All religions are basically the same anyway, I can just go to another church closer to my home and get the same thing out of it.”
I see this as a very real and possible outcome that could very well empty our Catholic parishes even more than they already are and usher in a diminishing of The One True Faith. It will never disappear entirely, that is a Divine Promise given by Jesus; but do not think that this means souls will automatically show up on Sunday and practice on Monday what Christ teaches. Indeed, this could be the future unless one thing truly begins to ring out in our hearts:
I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus, on the night he was handed over, took bread, and, after he had given thanks, broke it and said, “This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way also the cup, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes.
Unless our desire for the Eucharist, which is truly the Body and Blood of Jesus, really does makes us hungry for God alone, then we can very easily just walk to a mere copy of The Church where we call the shots, or we can walk away.
The Sacrifice of Jesus upon the Altar is at the core of who Catholics are and how we live. We know this because Jesus begins the act of saving us from our sins not at the cross, but at The Last Supper, the First Eucharist.
Taking the first chalice of the Jewish Passover that night before he died, Jesus says a blessing and then recalls the beginning of Israel’s flight from Egypt. The bitter herbs He and the disciples ate recall those bitter years of slavery.
The second course of the Last Supper included a mini-liturgy where the Passover narrative is read and a second chalice of wine is consumed.
At the third course of the meal, when a whole roasted lamb and unleavened bread were usually consumed, Jesus takes the bread, breaks it and says “This is my body”. The lamb is conspicuously absent because Jesus is telling us that He is the Lamb, and we are to eat of that Lamb in the manner He points out to us. Taking the bread He says, unmistakably “This is my body.” At the end of this course of the Passover, he takes the “Cup of Blessing” and as He gives it to the disciples says, “This is the chalice of my blood, which will be poured out for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins.” We know these words. We know that He tells the Apostles to continue to do this very thing and to do it in as priest-servants.
The Passover typically ends with a fourth chalice and a the “Hallel” psalms of jubilation giving thanks to God for saving his chosen people. This is conspicuously absent until Jesus speaks with unutterable difficulty from the cross, “I thirst.” He then receives a branch of hyssop soaked with sour wine before exclaiming “It is finished.” The fourth chalice of New Passover, The First Eucharist, The first celebration of The Mass is concluded with Jesus’ death upon the cross. Our salvation is not just tied up with Calvary, but with the actions of Jesus at The Last Supper and His Death on the Cross.
At the first Passover, the night before the flight from Egypt, any Israelite who did not eat the flesh of Lamb would have brought death down upon themselves and their firstborn. Salvation was tied to the blood of the Lamb on the doorpost and with partaking of the sacrificed lamb.
It is therefore no coincidence that Jesus gives us a New Passover to deliver us from the slavery of sin. And in this light we can see His words in John’s Gospel:
“Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink.” (John 6:53-55)
This, my brothers and sisters, is true. The Eucharist is not optional for a Catholic because it is how we continually enter into the salvation that Christ is accomplishing in us. By including His death on the cross within the context of the liturgy of the Passover, Jesus allows us to enter into a timeless moment, where redemption from death is not just history, it is right now. And this is his great gift to us: laying down His life so that we may live while also providing a continual source of hope and strength to make our earthly journey to The New Promised Land: Heaven.
This is why Jesus tells us to continually find ourselves at the altar “in memory of Him”. This is why Jesus tells the parable to pray always and never lose heart. This is why He gives grace through the Eucharist when our feeble, fickle spirits may be willing but flesh is so weak.
Now, more than ever, let this hunger not drive us to lesser spiritual food sources that cannot satisfy, but rather may it move our hearts back to Catholic life. If this truly is the only place where we can receive The Eucharist because the Apostles handed this tradition on to those whom they ordained our first bishops and priests, then how can we accept anything else?
We must eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His Blood, or we have no life in us. Jesus gives us Himself in the Eucharist and He gives us the Church to provide it. May the Lord prove my fears unfounded, so that we may ring out praise in “The Great Alleluia” when our churches are open again, hungry for what only Jesus can provide.