No, you have approached Mount Zion
and the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem,
and countless angels in festal gathering,
and the assembly of the firstborn enrolled in heaven,
and God the judge of all,
and the spirits of the just made perfect,
and Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant,
and the sprinkled Blood that speaks more eloquently
than that of Abel.
If anyone can remember "normal circumstances" before the pandemic, I will remind them of the routine practice at Mass of sharing the Precious Blood of Jesus. Liturgically, there should be only one chalice and everyone shares of it.
The Letter to the Hebrews refers to that ordinary practice with the words, "the sprinkled Blood that speaks more eloquently than that of Abel." Everyone remembers that God heard the blood of Abel crying to the heavens for revenge upon Cain, and God's condemning the murderer to perpetual exile, which was more merciful than capital punishment.
In the earliest days of the Church, the practice of sharing the chalice was apparently widespread, routine, and treasured as most sacred.
There are innumerable references to blood in the scriptures, and we find them especially in passages about sacrificial holocausts. When Moses renewed the covenant between God and his people he poured some of the heifer's blood on the altar which represented God, and the rest on the people. Thus they were bound together in the blood of the sacrifice.
Catholics drinking the Blood of Jesus -- as he commanded us to do -- share a far more intense communion with God.
The ceremony takes us deeper into the mystery of Christ and the realization of sacrifice. As his water, blood, and spirit were poured out in love for us, so must we surrender to the Lord our body, soul, mind, and strength.
These ceremonies are not play-acting, as some might suppose. They are quite serious, and Saint Paul reminds us that those who eat the flesh or drink the blood unworthily invite judgement upon their heads. That should not discourage anyone from approaching the altar; but it should give us pause as we go.
It's pointless for me to address the near-superstitious fear many feel about sharing the cup at Mass. Some people, even before the pandemic, refused to shake hands with anyone! Nothing anyone says to them can reassure them. Hopefully those same people don't smoke, drink alcohol to excess, or recreate with drugs. But I wouldn't bet on that.
I've heard that there is no proven case of anyone getting sick by sharing the chalice, but you can't prove something never happened.
I trust my immune system to handle ordinary challenges and remind myself that -- despite the hyper-anxieties of last March and April -- you don't get Covid 19 by eating or drinking.
I simply invite people to pray with me by sharing the cup, and let it go at that. If Jesus invites me to share the chalice of his blood with others and then pours out the last drop of his Precious Blood on the cross, I will not turn my nose up against him.
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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.