A while back, we were discussing the trinitarian nature of the human person, and I recently came across this excerpt which pertained to that idea and got me thinking again. Thought I'd share:

"Trinity is simple unity; it is not merged together - it is three in one...
Just in the same way, man has mind, word, and spirit; and the mind cannot be without word, nor the word without the spirit, but the three are always in one another, yet exist in themselves. The mind speaks by means of words, and the
word is manifested through the spirit.
This example shows that man bears in himself a feeble image of the ineffable prototype, the Trinity, thus demonstrating that he has been made in God's image.
Mind is the Father, word is the Son, spirit is the Holy Spirit, as the divine fathers teach in this example, expounding the dogmatic teaching of the consubstantial and pre-existing Trinity, of one God in three Persons, thus transmitting to us the true faith as an anchor of hope. "

(St. Gregory of Sinai in Writings from the Philokalia)

Eucharist and Suffering

“...Burnt offering from me you would refuse, my sacrifice, a contrite spirit, a humbled, contrite heart you will not spurn. .” Psalm 51

I'll open with a few words from the combox (but too good to be kept there):
from Gabrielle:
Just as God is hidden from us, the way in which we "take the Eucharist to the streets" can be hidden; just as Christ makes His ceaseless sacrifice, there are those who also make a ceaseless sacrifice in unity with Him, but it is not "out there" for all the world to see. Even their exterior works, done with compassion and with the desire to live the gospel, are performed quietly, and often anonymously.

from Carol:
…yes, some live as Eucharist in a very different way. To me, those feed the best. Those who are eucharistic via imbibing and consuming Him, first.

We might even argue that the “hidden holocausts” are the cleanest, as they are untainted – the agonies we hold in our hearts are known only to Him, offered for love of Him alone, as we gain nothing from others by them.

I have been thinking about suffering a lot lately, and keep coming up against this inescapable conclusion:

to live and to love in this life is to suffer.

I could go on and on (as you all well know) and discuss the whats and whys of suffering (maybe we’ll do that later) but I want to jump ahead to make the connection between suffering and the Eucharist.

On one level, this connection is obvious: if the Eucharist is the “clean oblation” of the Cross, then the suffering dimension is clear. But how do our very personal sufferings fit in?

In order to grasp this fully (we all “get it” on a basic level, but in order to “live the Eucharist” we need to understand it experientially) we need to contemplate our own capacity for “redemptive suffering” and the invitation extended by Christ to each of us to participate in His Sacrifice.

Suffering helps the sufferer, suffering opens up avenues of grace and allows God to reach in and work miracles, and our own suffering can also help others. They may be inspired by our faith, fortitude, perseverance; they are given an opportunity to give of themselves for our sake, like Simon and the Good Samaritan; and, at the highest level, we can participate in the very Redemption itself by immolating ourselves for others.

There is the penance aspect of this, yes – we “make reparation” for our sins and the sins of others by "making sacrifices" – but if we don’t move beyond that to LOVE, we’ve missed the point and fallen into a morose rigidity that falls short of the Spirit of Christ. One who is stoically “offering it up” and seeing this as a kind of business transaction (an exchange of suffering for punishment of sins) can hardly join with St. Paul in exclaiming, “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake…” (Colossians)

This joy, John Paul II tells us, “comes from the discovery of the meaning of suffering.” (Salvifici Doloris) This meaning is manifold, and we could compose volumes discussing it. But at the core is the truth that “We are always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies.” (II Cor)

We have the almost unbelievable privilege of participating in the Redemption itself, of joining ourselves to the One Sacrifice of Christ, because He lives in us and we in Him. When nailed to the Cross, Christ offered Himself to the Eternal Father as Head of the whole human race, of the Mystical Body; in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, He offers to the Father not only Himself as Head of the Church, but all His members also, since we are united with Him and He holds each of us in His Heart. We are all included in that offering, and it is at Mass, in union with the Mass, that we offer all that we have to offer. We actually insert our sufferings into His, to “complete what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ,” not because the Redemption is incomplete, but because the Redemption remains open always to all love expressed in human suffering.
“In this dimension – the dimension of love – the Redemption which has already been completely accomplished is, in a certain sense, constantly being accomplished….Yes, it seems to be part of the very essence of Christ’s redemptive suffering that this suffering requires to be unceasingly completed.” (Salvifici Doloris)

It is “unceasingly completed” by those willing to love to the point of suffering, who are willing to suffer and become “hidden holocausts” of love.

And everything is offered to the Father only through Christ: “through Him, with Him, in Him, in the unity of the Holy Spirit.” There is no other way to the Father but through Him. There is only One Sacrifice, in which we may participate, and through which we make our own offering.

If we "present our bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is our spiritual worship," (Romans) then we are presenting our bodies to be gradually crucified, in union with Christ. And it is through this death to self that we live in Christ and Christ in us: "I have been crucified with Christ, it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me." (Galatians) We are united to Christ through the Cross which we embrace with love.

That little drop of water that the priest pours into the chalice of wine is like our little ordinary offerings, which are completely absorbed into the Blood of Christ and transformed. Just as at Cana Christ took something very ordinary (water) and transformed it into something beyond our capacity (the "best wine") because it was brought in simplicity and His word was obeyed, so our own very ordinary offerings are transformed within the Chalice of His Heart by His immense Love and become something worthy of the Father.

Eucharist = holocaust


It's no doubt "bad form" to criticize my own poem before you even read it, but I have to confess that this is not my favorite in poetic terms. Imagine reading it out loud in front of our new bishop; it does not have a good rhythm for oral interpretation.

But the thoughts were still worth expressing so I published it anyway...



















The New and Everlasting Covenant

You are always coming, veiling Yourself for us
In elements unworthy of the Godhead,
that we might look on You and live.
Remaining in Your changeless heaven has never been enough
For a King whose very essence is to give.

You once clothed Your glory in earth’s clay,
Hid infinite riches in abject poverty
and Your subjection of all things in meek submission;
Under cold cover of night brought forth the glorious break of day,
In brutal death brought Eden’s Promise to fruition.

But we were looking elsewhere, wanting more,
Even the friends You chose did not see clear;
believing they saw the gardener or a ghost,
Or a fisherman preparing breakfast on a familiar shore;
And we neglect to see You in the host.

Here, the unblemished Lamb, only light of Paradise,
Thrice-holy God, Victim King,
by every saint and angel now adored,
The gentle Way, inescapable Truth, the Wisdom of the wise,
Hidden in a form so easily ignored.

Untiring surge of Love, Lord of our sinful hearts,
The Shekinah, source of every grace,
here with us with compassionate restraint.
Not a relic, nor mere bread, but Your entire living Self to us impart,
And in silent ceaseless prayer You wait.

How can we then receive in Heaven
More than You offer us here on earth?
You give the whole of You without reserve;
As freely offered bond of love, You give new life to leaven
Without considering what we truly deserve.

Here You are closer to us than heat to fire
All the boundless God miraculously ours –
Your self-donation and Your mercy, Your holy Heart of peace,
Your longing to give Yourself exceeding our desire,
Perfect sacrifice offered without cease.

The burden of Your prayer in every place
The same as it has always been:
that all be one in You to the glory of the Father;
You draw us near to contemplate Your Eucharistic Face
And thus unite us, with You and with each other.

Will we wholly embrace the spirit of this Feast?
Allow the vibration of faith to move the will
to freely choose the utter fullness we profess?
Will we welcome the unwelcome and embrace the weak, the least,
Offer them their portion of this Bread we break and bless?

Can we drink from your cup, offer self as holocaust,
Freely pour our very lives out for each other,
making room within us for new wine?
Will we join our impoverished suffering to Your victorious cross,
And assent to be transformed in the Body we enshrine?

Fro here within us is the Kingdome of Your reign;
A reflection of Your life of Trinity
in which we now mutually abide
If we keep vigil, with lanterns we attentively sustain,
For the Bridegroom ever coming to His bride.

Rising Sun, Risen One, create all mankind anew,
In Your true Body build up the new City of God
and grant every soul rebirth,
Removing all that divides heart from heart and hearts from you,
Granting a foretaste of the New Heaven and New Earth.

“Behold, I am with you always.”

Welcome, CatholicConnect friends!

I am glad to see some of you have dropped in for a look. Don't hesitate to add your brilliant .02 here. We'd love to hear it, and occasionally, the conversation really gets rolling...

When we're not all too busy with other things anyway.

For the rest of you, I visited with a very exuberant group of young people at CatholicConnect to talk about a very sober topic: suffering. Something they all know something about. Perhaps some of them will join in the discussion here as well, as we are continuing that very subject. Perhaps I will summarize what I covered at the meeting.

Also, I should apologize for the delay in posting. I've received a few emails to make sure all is well here, and it is. Just crazy busy. But I am working (in my head) on a post that I hope to share soon.

Meanwhile, we pray for one another always.

Eucharist = Thanksgiving

As H’s words are no longer spouting at her blog (at least for now), I’ll share her profoundly practical thoughts with the world here in the form of combox words, to springboard us to the next level:

I've never thought of myself as living the analogy of bread being broken and fed to others, the horizontal aspect of His sacrifice that we share in; I suppose many do, but anyway, it put me in mind of an old lady the other night who tho' a Methodist, has pretty much become eucharist in her love. She conquers her wanting to take, by giving. We have to do everything but breathe in and out for some, and she's approaching that point, and is terribly disappointed, but she gifts from it when possible.

Yes, we are to become gift. That’s what the whole suffering book is really about, isn’t it, Honora? Being gift, so that others will know their own giftedness and goodness, so they can in turn become gift to others, for Him. And as I said somewhere already, our “givingness” comes from heartfelt gratitude for all we have been given. This is what it means to live a eucharistic life. Now let’s unpack this, and translate it into life.

This is a mystery, and one that we can only approach in small chunks. As a wordsmith and logophile, I like to begin with the word (well, everything begins with the Word, doesn’t it?):

eucharist
εuχαριστία
eucharistia
thanksgiving

Christ “gave thanks” before blessing the bread and wine and declaring it to be His Body and Blood. The early Church fathers (including Ignatius of Antioch and Justin Martyr) used the term “eucharist” to describe both the prayers of the liturgy and the consecrated bread and wine. Hence, “eucharist” has come to refer to the sacrament of Christ’s Body and Blood.

This is fitting, as the whole life of Christ was an act of oblation and thanksgiving, leading up to the institution of the Eucharist as a perpetuation of the complete immolation He was about to offer on Calvary.

But first, He lived a life of generosity and self-sacrifice, of humble self-gift and serving the needs of others (to the point that his friends and relatives thought He had lost a few marbles and felt they had to rescue Him from the crowds!). He came to demonstrate how God loves; He sets aside his glory, bends low as a servant to wash the feet of his disciples (even the one he knew would soon betray him) and then he gets up and says, “Love looks like this. This is how you love and serve one another.” And then He is able to say, “Love one another as I have loved you.”

“Looking up to heaven,” He gives thanks. Then, He blesses and breaks the bread and gives it to all, hiding His glory still more mysteriously than in the Incarnation itself. He lowers Himself and conceals His glory to become man, and then He lowers Himself still lower and conceals His glory still further to become Bread. Bread. Take and eat and have life in you...

He invites us to move beyond ourselves and live for love, loving both God and neighbor with all we’ve got, because this is the way of truth, the way of joy, the way of life in abundance.

I think I may post the poem I was asked to write for the 10th anniversary of our Perpetual Adoration Chapel here, which is very much focused on living the eucharist.

Vigates!






Based on the visitors to this site in the last 30 days, I should be greeting you all variously, so:

Good day, eh?
Dé la bienvenida a todos!
Welkommen!
G’day!
Accolga favorevolmente tutti (fmn will correct me here)
begrüßen Sie alle


In a moment, I will attempt to address Gabrielle's suggestion that we focus on living a truly eucharistic life... Praying first, then talking...

Praying

through the

Dark

When prayer is labor
and prayer-bones ache
and physical and spiritual muscles
begin to shake;
when we stop seeking You
in the lightning
and in the earthquake,
and only want to give ourselves,
forgetting we’d wanted to take,
the toil and fatigue of duty
become a safe and welcome ark,
the glimpse of our own
nothingness a good and holy spark,
the desire for Your will alone
becomes our distinctive mark,
and at last we know that
Your radiance
is best seen
in the

dark.

Optional Memorial of the Holy Name of Jesus

I've said this before, but it bears repeating:

On this "optional Memorial" of the Holy Name of Jesus, designated as such by Pope JPII in 2002 (he was really just reinstating an observance that had been set aside after Vatican II), we take note of the naming of this child born unto us, this son that is given for us. Joseph was told in his dream: "You shall call His name Jesus, for He shall save His people from their sins." So when we say that name, we recall the greatest gift that has been given to us: salvation.

In the Litany of the Holy Name of Jesus, we refer to "Jesus, splendor of the Father...brightness of eternal light... eternal wisdom... infinite goodness...."

Trinitarian love is not a self-contained end in itself - it is always opening up something fresh within Itself to pour out on us, to give existence to what did not exist, to communicate something new yet eternal, to give life where death had been tightening its grip.

This Child named Jesus reminds us that the ever-new beginning, the infinite "givingness" of God, is tangible - salvation is ours because Love has been made flesh, Beauty made flesh, Life made flesh, Truth made flesh, Wisdom, Goodness, Justice made flesh and is among us, with us, for us.

This Child elevates and illumines the new beginning that is every new life, every absolved penitent whose childlikeness has been restored, every dawn, every heartbeat. Behold, He makes all things new.

We love You, Jesus. We praise You, Jesus. We thank You, Jesus.

*I found this graphic for a "Yeshua" t-shirt at christianshirts.net