“Everything
is ready; come to the feast.”
This
invitation from today’s Gospel expresses what we celebrate every time we come
to Mass [but also what we celebrate particularly this weekend during our weekend
of Eucharistic devotions.] God has prepared a banquet for his people, the
wedding feast of the Lamb, in which we are fed with the greatest of all
foods—Christ Himself.
I was at a
parish closing of Forty Hours recently, and the homilist told a wonderful story
about newly beatified Blessed Fulton Sheen. I had read the story before, maybe
you have too, but I’d like to share it with you today, as it is a good reminder of what we celebrate in the great gift of the Eucharist
In his
autobiography Treasure in Clay, Archbishop Sheen about a resolutions he
made on the day of his priestly ordination.
He writes, “I
resolved to spend a continuous Holy Hour every day in the presence of our Lord
in the Blessed Sacrament.” It was a resolution that Blessed Fulton Sheet kept
throughout his priesthood, and he testified that it was a major source of grace
and spiritual power in his ministry. He was once asked what inspired him to
make the resolution to make that daily holy hour, and so he shared the story of
an eleven-year-old Chinese girl.
He said:
When the Communists took over China, they imprisoned a priest in his rectory
nearby the church. One day, he watched the Communists enter the Church, and
break into the tabernacle, and they took out the ciborium containing the
precious Body of Christ, and threw the ciborium on to the floor. He saw the
consecrated hosts spill out on to the floor, and he knew the exact number of
hosts, now scattered on the floor: there were thirty-two of them.
While this
desecration was taking place, a little girl was praying in the back of the
church, a young Chinese girl of 11 years. She also watched this desecration
take place in silence and sorrow. Later that night, the girl returned to
church, sneaking past the guard.
She knelt
down before the spilled hosts and made a holy hour: an act of love to make up
for the act of hatred. After her hour of prayer she bent over one of the hosts,
and with her tongue received Jesus in Holy Communion, for at the time it was
not permissible for the laity to touch the Sacred Host with their hands as they
are now.
Every night,
the little girl snuck into church and made a holy hour and received Jesus in
Holy Communion on her tongue. On the thirty-second night, after she had
consumed the last and thirty-second host, she accidentally made a noise which
alerted the Communist guard. The guard chased her down and beat her to death
with the butt of his rifle. The priest helplessly watched this incident from
his confinement.
That little
girl, whose name is unknown, died a martyr for the faith. This was the story
which inspired Blessed Fulton Sheen to make that promise of a daily Hour Hour.
Again this
story inspired Blessed Fulton Sheet to make that promise of the daily Holy
Hour. If she could risk her life, out of love for Jesus, he could at least
spend an hour.
Why did she
do so? For one, because she recognize those sacred hosts to be Jesus Himself.
This is what happens at mass—bread and wine are truly transformed into the Body
and Blood of Christ. She recognized this gift that Jesus has made to the
Church. She recognized her God spilled on the floor by those filled with hate.
And so she sought to replace hatred with love, disbelief with faith.
That is the
faith we renew [this weekend] every time we come to Mass, every time we kneel
in adoration before the Blessed Sacrament. Beneath the appearances of bread and
wine, Christ is truly present. The same Jesus who healed the sick, offered
himself on Calvary, and rose from the dead gives himself to us as food. God
invites us in the same words of the Gospel, “Everything is ready; come to the
feast.”
In our first
reading, Isaiah foretells God’s promise of a feast in which all the people of
the earth would be gathered. This is the feast. And at that banquet, God would
wipe away every tear from our eyes and destroy death forever.
At the
Eucharist, we are comforted in all of our sorrows, that we are not abandoned by
God. Jesus is with us in this vale of tears. And he feeds us with what St.
Ignatius of Antioch called “the remedy for our mortality”, the antidote to
death. For as Jesus taught, “he who eats my flesh shall live forever. Him I
will raise up on the last day.”
Our love for
Jesus in this sacrament brings a sort of fearlessness, toward death and every
thing else. Our psalm expresses this confidence and fearlessness: “Even though
I walk in the dark valley I fear no evil; for you are at my side.” The
Eucharist is Jesus at the side of his Church. Or rather, the Eucharist is the
Church at the side of Jesus—from which blood and water flowed.
That eleven
year old Chinese girl understood this. Why would she risk death, sneaking into
the Church, night after night for thirty-two nights? Because she knew, like so
many of the martyrs, knew, that death is not the end, for those who have faith
in Christ. Her love was greater than the threats surrounding her. She belonged
to Jesus.
The
Eucharist cultivates that same holy fearlessness in us. We still might
experience anxiety, suffering, grief, and temptation, but because of the
Eucharist, these things do not control our lives. The Eucharist frees us from
fear. For Christ feeds us with the life that death cannot destroy.
The
Eucharist especially frees us from fear for the mission of the Church. We are
called, not just to sneak past Communists, so that we may worship in secret,
but to convert them, and work for all who deny Christ and hate his Church. We
are to love our enemy enough that we find ways to share the Gospel with them.
The Eucharist expands our hearts to embrace, even our enemy. Again, as the
Psalmist says, “a table has been set before us in the sight of our foes.”
In the
Gospel, there were several different types of responses to the invitation to
the wedding feast. There were those who outright refused to come—for reasons
unknown and unspoken—they simply refused. You and I, probably know people who
fall into that category. There were those who made excuses—we’re too busy—we
have our farms and businesses. You and I probably know some of them as well.
The third
response was this person who showed up without the wedding garment, who was
consequently ejected from the banquet. The wedding garment is symbolic of the
Christian life open to being more deeply converted to Christ. This is the
person who shows up to mass without the desire or intention of being more
deeply converted, falling more deeply in love with Christ, being truly
strengthened and inspired for the mission.
The Gospel
challenges us to ensure that we always come to mass with the openness to
transformation and conversion that God wants for us. To become like that little
Chinese girl—with a love for Him in the Eucharist so deep that it animates our
life—a love that casts out fear—so that we may live more fully for him.
Perhaps the
Lord inviting you to make a holy hour each week in our eucharistic chapel, or
to come to weekday mass. Perhaps, he is urging you to become a Eucharistic
minister, so that you can bring Him to the sick and homebound, who would be
here if they could. No doubt the Lord wants to feed them, and be with them in
their dark valley, but he needs our parishioners to take up this ministry. No
doubt the Lord is inviting each of us to consider how and we can be more
fearless in our loving service of the mission of the Church.
May this
Holy Mass [and our Eucharistic devotions] bring renewal to each of us and to
our parish, and an increase in faith, hope, and love, for the glory of God and
the salvation of souls.
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