Sunday, June 7, 2015

Homily: Corpus Christi 2015 - "My flesh is true food, my blood is true drink"



We come to the great feast of Corpus Christ, the Feast of the Body and Blood of Jesus. 

The origins of this feast date back to an extraordinary event happening in 1263.  There was a priest named Peter of Prague who was making a pilgrimage from Prague to Rome.  On his way, he stopped in the Italian town of Bolsena to celebrate his daily Mass.  Peter of Prague was a pious man, but he harbored some doubts—he was struggling with the doctrine of our faith teaching that Jesus is really present in the Eucharist. Well, it seems God had an answer to Father Peter’s doubts.  At the point in the Mass when he consecrated the host, the host began to bleed and the blood ran down his hands and his arms and dripped down onto the corporal on the altar. 

Peter of Prague was astonished.  He quickly made his way to the nearby town of Orvieto, where Pope Urban IV was visiting.  He knelt down before Pope Urban and confessed his sin of doubting the Eucharist and told him this extraordinary story.  The Pope sent a delegation of Cardinals to investigate.  When the facts were ascertained, he ordered the bishop of the diocese to bring the Host and the corporal bearing the stains of Blood to him.  He then placed these items in the Cathedral at Orvieto, where anyone visiting the Cathedral can venerate them to this day. 

Pope Urban, so moved by this whole experience, established a feast celebrating Our belief in the Real Presence of the Lord Jesus in the Eucharist, so the Feast of Corpus Christi was established. 

Traveling with Pope Urban during this period was the greatest theological writer of the time, perhaps of all time—St. Thomas Aquinas.  The Pope asked the Dominican Friar Thomas to compose the prayers for the new Feast and we’ve used them ever since.

One of the hymns St. Thomas composed is the Pange Lingua which we also sing at Benediction and also on Holy Thursday.

Pange, lingua, gloriósi Córporis mystérium, Sanguinísque pretiósi, Quem in mundi prétium Fructus ventris generósi Rex effúdit géntium.  “Sing, my tongue, of the glory of the mysterious body and precious Blood”.  Today, that’s exactly what we do: we sing of the glory of his Body and Blood poured forth for our salvation, given to us by Our Lord Himself at the Last Supper. 

The third verse of the Pange Lingua continues St. Thomas’ description of the institution of the Eucharist at the Last Supper:  “Cibum turbae duodenae, se dat suis manibus”: he gave himself as food with his own hands to the Twelve.

The Eucharist is not simply a symbol, it’s not simply a metaphor.  Jesus himself, in John chapter 6, says, “my flesh is true food, my blood is true drink.”

How was it possible that Jesus performed this miracle? The next line of St. Thomas’ hymn gives the answer: “verbum caro, panem verum, verbo carnem efficit.”  The Word made flesh, by his word, makes true bread, flesh.  I can’t imagine a clearer or more succinct statement of the Church’s faith in the Eucharist.  Jesus, Verbum caro, the word made flesh, by his word, the word through which all creation came into being, makes bread into flesh.

Thomas wrote another hymn called the “Sacra Solemnis”.  .Mozart put part of Thomas’ hymn to his own music a few centuries later. You’ve no doubt heard of it: Panis angelicus, fit panis hominum; o res mirabilis, manducat dominum pauper servus humiles.  Translated: The bread of angels becomes the bread of men, o wonderful thing, the poor and humble servant can feed upon his Lord. 

We, poor and humble servants, can feed, can commune, can have communion with the Lord, and Creator of the Universe.  What we do here at Mass is a foretaste of the communion of the saints with God in heaven.  Our whole lives are but preparation for eternity, and what we do hear at Mass is a foretaste of that. 

That’s why, in his theological writings, Thomas Aquinas refers to the Eucharist as viaticum—food for the journey.

I recently came across a survey with some pretty interesting results.  Between the years 2000 and 2009, a little over 10% of adults left the Catholic Church. That number is probably higher now six years later.  Some of the most common reasons for falling away: Life got too busy and they drifted away; they didn’t understanding the Church’s teachings; they were bothered by the scandals; they married someone of a different denomination, they were looking for a more vibrant parish experience or more charismatic preachers; some said it is simply easier to be Protestant.

Yet, interestingly, once they leave for another denomination, they continue to change denominations.  In fact, the average fallen away Catholic will change Protestant denominations 6 times in their’ life.  They move from place to place, looking for something; shopping, but not finding.

Over 75% of fallen away Catholics attending a Protestant communities say that there is something important missing from their’ religious experience.

Many, thanks be to God, after years of searching, do return.  And 75% of those who return to Catholicism, say the thing that was missing, the thing they longed for, was the Eucharist.  For no Protestant denomination claims that bread and wine truly transform, not just symbolically, but in reality, into the body and blood of Jesus Christ.  No Protestant denomination can offer the possibility of being faithful to the Lord’s command to eat his body and drink his blood.

Many of us know Catholics who have fallen away.  We do well to engage them in conversation on this topic.  Even casually ask them, “Don’t you miss the Eucharist?”  “How can you belong to a community that doesn’t celebrate the Eucharist?” Perhaps, some fall away because they do not sense that we value this great gift as we should. 

For in the end, we do not come to Church week after week for the music, for the decorations, for the preaching, as amazing as it is; not even for the sense of community; we come for the Eucharist—to offer God worship in the way the God-made-flesh has commanded—do this in memory of me.

That does not mean that music, and decorations, and preaching, and hospitality are not important.  Hopefully, our desire to give the Lord our very best inspires us to constantly be improving our music program, and beautifying our church decorations and vestments and vessels, and warmly greeting and welcoming our visitors.  But in the end, if the music is poor, the church is ugly, and the preaching is atrocious, we poor and humble servants, we wayfarers will still be able to receive Our Lord in Holy Communion, and know that he is here, he is with us, feeding us with the food which brings eternal life…for the glory of God and salvation of souls.


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