Last Sunday, my homily brought out the link between the Eucharist and “communion”. The Eucharist expresses and deepens our communion with the Church. This communion with the Church is both invisible and visible. It is invisible because it expresses a unity with the Blessed Trinity and presupposes a life of grace. Every Catholic who wants to receive communion must ensure that he or she receives it in a worthy manner. Thus, there is a link between communion and the sacrament of confession. Even though this relationship between communion and conversion is a matter of one’s conscience, a matter between the person and God, still, the Church has the duty to see that those who manifestly refuse to repent should not be given communion.The reality that there are less than perfect situations, for example, “excommunication”, actually highlights the visible aspect of communion with the Church which is expressed through the 3 Cs: Creed, Code and Cult. Visible communion with the Church means that one accepts Catholic doctrines, is subject to the Church’s governance and receives the Church’s sacraments. The phrase that best describes this visible communion with the Church is none other than “practising Catholic”.
As a Sacrament of Ecclesial communion, the Eucharist has implications for our ecumenical activities. Since the unity of the Catholic Church with the other ecclesial communities is far from perfect, the Catholic Church is cautious in the matter of intercommunion. Why? Even though we desire visible unity, to short-cut the long and winding road to unity is to pretend that we are one when we are not. Our commitment to the truth cannot allow this kind of falsehood. John Paul II concludes by saying that our observance of the norms governing the reception of Holy Communion is proof and guarantee of our love for (1) Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, (2) for our Protestant brothers and sisters who have a right to our witness to the truth and (3) it shows our love for the cause of unity.
This week, our attention is directed by JPII to the dignity that must accompany our celebration of the Eucharist. With regard to “how much”, we are haunted by an account recorded in the Gospels. As Mary, the sister of Lazarus anointed Christ’s head, Judas asked a question that has echoed throughout the centuries. The enduring question deals with what is ostentatious in the midst of hunger. To be extravagant is a scandal when people are hungry. The usual argument is that God is not bothered by ostentatious showings.
The idea that money is better used for the poor is noble. But, underlying this noble idea is perhaps a mode of thinking which is deceptively calculative and thus, it has far-reaching consequences. An example of calculative thinking is “Euthanasia” (good death). How so? It claims to give a dying person a sense of control over suffering and pain. No one should suffer unnecessarily. But, noble as that may sound, in reality, Euthanasia is a consideration of convenience. [1] We measure the world according to the scale of convenience. [2] But, God is of another world. Pentecost is a reminder of the other realm that we are made for. As much as the Holy Spirit descended upon the Apostles, the Apostles and thus the Church are drawn up into God. It is only when I am prepared to love God with a measure beyond this world, then I would also be prepared to love you with the same measure. The Sacrifice of Christ must be seen in this light. The idea is not how much money we can save for the poor but rather how much are we ready to do for God. [3] In this respect, JPII reminds us that the honour given to Christ in the Eucharist is tied closely to the mystery of His Person. We are not dealing with just an ordinary man. The way the Last Supper accounts were presented in the Gospels shows how even at an early period, care was given to the celebration of the Eucharist. [4] That’s why JPII declares that the Church fears no extravagance because the expression of her extravagance is directed to God. [5]
We could never do enough for God. Jesus may have been born in a manger. But, His poverty is a revelation of His humility whereas the Wise Men who visited Jesus did not come with poor things. Instead, they came with gold, frankincense and myrrh. What they gave Jesus showed their humility—a humility which says that no matter what we do, we can never outdo the majestic God humbling Himself to become one of us.
Because of the majesty of Christ’s gesture, the Church does not make light or trivialise the Eucharist of her Lord and Master. In fact, if we follow the definition “sacrament”, outward sign of inward grace, then the liturgy—the outward expressions must be adorned and elevated by the use of beautiful things. Icons embody the abiding presence of holiness. Statues are visible reminders of our communion with the saints who are models for our living. Stained glasses bring to life the Gospel and they catechise in pictures. Gregorian chants transport us into a realm beyond the ordinary. [6] The Gothic cathedrals were imposing structures simply because their spires piercing into the sky actually accompany our soaring aspirations for God.
Here we begin to realise that not everything is suitable for the worship of God.[7] It calls for discernment. The word “cacophony” may help us understand what it means to be discerning. Cacophony means harsh discordant mixture of sounds but in Greek, it’s even more graphic because it is derived from “kakka”... meaning faeces or crap. So cacophony means “shitty” sound. [Sorry]. Not every sound is good for our Liturgy. [8]
Thus, JPII proposes a very important ecclesiological principle for discernment. And it is this: the local Church does not exist in isolation from the Universal Church. For example, we belong to the Latin Rite of the Catholic Church and all things being equal, Gregorian chants as being proper to the Roman Liturgy, must hold a pride of place in our Liturgy. The universal character of the Church must be taken into consideration in our process of inculturation or adaptation. In dealing with adaptation, “formality” is sometimes viewed as stifling creativity. In actual fact, formality does not stifle creativity. It prevents impulsiveness and it protects the lay people from the tyrannical whims and fancies of a priest.
In conclusion, nothing that we do can ever outdo what God has done for us. This is the principle for which we try to give God our very best and this is important if we want to address Judas’ concern for the poor. [9] I was at the Archdiocesan Pastoral Assembly yesterday. Our topic was the challenge of ministering to our migrant brothers and sisters. At the end of the meeting the suggestions came in fast and thick: we should organise this, we should produce this or that, etc. in order to educate and encourage our people to be involved in social justice issues. I thought to myself, our parish has so many programmes and yet why is our response at best lukewarm? It dawned on me that the measure of my love for God will be the measure of my love for the world. Not the other way around. How so? One of the Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion was overheard saying, “How come you pay your maids so well? They don’t deserve such salary. They will climb over your head”. There is a saying that “familiarity breeds contempt”. In the case of our Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion, it is not familiarity but the statement betrays a lack of familiarity. [10] How could anyone who gives Jesus in Holy Communion think this way? Obviously she does not know Jesus enough. Appropriately, JPII used the word “extravagance” for our expressions towards the Eucharist because it stands as an antidote to Judas’ calculative thinking or mentality. To love Jesus is to love the world. To give Jesus the best is to give the world our best. The saints already knew this... May we imitate them in giving their best to Jesus in order to love the world.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Sometimes, the “suffering” of a patient is acute because it is a reflexion of society’s lack of tolerance for suffering. Think about it. How come people from Third World countries seem to be able to tolerate pain? They are stoical about pain whereas, the more affluent we are, the more intolerant of pain we become and this intolerance may be transmitted as an expectation on those who are suffering... “We actually don’t want you to be around to remind us of pain. So we’ll help you die faster”. Likewise, why is it that “older” people of our generation don’t want to be a nuisance to their children? Is it because we, the “able-bodied” younger generation, have subtly sent a signal that they are a nuisance—a cramp to our lifestyle?
[2] This scale of convenience is also discernible in the relationship between man and woman in marriage.
[3] In fact, the liturgy tells us that there is “Someone” who is worth dying for. Without this “Someone”, I will love you with a measure of this world; a measure “choked” by convenience. But, if love for God is measured other-worldly, then our liturgy must reflect that. Thus, in the context of Judas’ concern for the world, the point is, if you want to save the world or feed the poor, make sure the liturgy remains dignified, sacred and solemn because true worship of God is the only thing that can save the world.
[4] Jesus asked his disciples to go into town to prepare the place for their celebration of the Last Supper.
[5] A way to understand the measure of our extravagance is to look at our sanction or deterrent for a crime. (An interesting aside: for the Church, sanction is not punitive but rather rehabilitative). For example, in the case of rape, the “extent” that we are prepared to impose sanction is the extent we are ready to defend a value. In the case of rape, it is the dignity of the victim. Today, we are harsh when it comes to crime against children because the value of a child’s dignity cannot be measured. (The contradiction that we experience though, is abortion. For many countries, abortion is just a statistic. But, in more affluent countries, the medical fraternity would go to length in order to save a single person. These two approaches to life do not commensurate!). The point is, if we believe that God is the Almighty, then, we must be solemn and noble in our worship. But, the sad truth is, a loss of solemnity is indicative of the loss of faith in the Real Presence, in the sacrificial nature of the Eucharist and also in the spiritual authority of the priestly office. If we truly believe in Jesus’ Real Presence... our attitude would be totally different.
[6] It is true that there is something about music which can be described as “classical” and therefore enduring. For example, according to music enthusiasts, the late 80s and the early 90s could be written off from the era of modern music. It seemed that nothing of value came from that period of “Muzart and synthesised techno-music”.
[7] In our world of political correctness, we are sometimes mistaken by the consideration that just because something is available, then it can be used.
[8] It’s like saying “I love you” but slapping you to proof that I love you. It’s not logical because clearly, some actions are not actions of love but rather actions devoid of love. This suggests the need for discernment and it is important because it touches the whole process of inculturation.
[9] Thinking of the poor may be noble but it could also be a gesture to God that we think nothing of Him.
[10] I wager that Judas asked the question simply not because he cared that much for the poor but because he didn’t know Jesus enough.
