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.”
During those critical years when my brain was still taking shape and my thoughts were both impressionable and disjointed, I shared the bias of my peers that tradition was a dirty word. It might have its charm for Russian peasants in Fiddler on the Roof, but it was a nuisance for an aspiring boomer as the revolutionary sixties segued into the co-opted seventies.
Imagine my shock, then, when I realized that my only real world connection to Jesus Christ is our cherished tradition. After two semesters of post-graduate theology, I understood that the Church wrote the Bible. We kept Jesus’ teachings and stories and authorized our scribes to edit and record them. We kept, copied and distributed the letters of Saint Paul and other writers. We discussed, argued and settled upon a list of canonical documents and dropped the rest into the dustbin of history. The Bible is not the opposite of tradition, as some have described it, but its most sacred artifact. The Bible is to Tradition as the Blessed Sacrament is to the tabernacle. And the Catholic Church is where we encounter both.
To know Jesus, I realized at the tender age of twenty-three, I must belong to the Church. OMG, I was becoming conservative!
On Holy Thursday we celebrate Jesus’ institution of the Church, especially with its sacraments of Eucharist and Priesthood. But – once again – there is that shocking reality. Though I might have heard of Jesus outside the Eucharist, and I might admire what I have heard of him, I cannot know him without the Blessed Sacrament. Within the congregation of the Church and the reception of this Sacrament we meet God face to face.
“Do this in memory of me.” is not a suggestion. Jesus did not make this proposal to see if anyone might second and offer it for discussion, debate and an up-or-down vote. He didn't hope we might do this. Eucharist is the one sure way to meet the Lord.
The new pontiff has taken a new name, Francis. That has to mean something. God sent the Little Poor Man of Assisi (the Poverello) when people thought they had pretty well figured out God and religion. They knew Jesus, or so they thought. Saint Francis gently dismantled that error; he showed them a God who cared for the poor, the sick and the despised; who came to serve, not to be served.
As in Francis’ day, millions of people today think they know Jesus. They call themselves Christians despite their worship of wealth, weapons and warfare. Many don’t attend any church. They don’t need to because they suppose “God loves everybody with unconditional love.”
The Catholic Church with its new pope must challenge their assumptions and warn them of their moral compromises. For Catholics the next fifty years may be even more exciting than the last, which is all the more reason to Do this in memory of me.
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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.