“This Is My Body”

This article appeared in the April 15, 2021 issue of the AD Times, the newspaper of the Diocese of Allentown. Read more about our diocesan goings-on at allentowndiocese.org and ad-today.com.

Bishop Schlert has declared this a diocesan “Year of the Real Presence”: a motive for exceeding gratitude. We note meanwhile the real absence of so many, before and since the onset of the global pandemic. We beg the Lord for the grandest possible reunion this side of eternity, where and while we still happen to be.

Recall how, before Judas handed Jesus over, Jesus pre-emptively handed Himself over, saying “This is My Body” (Mark 14:22). This phrase seems to epitomize the spirt of this special year and just about everything there is to being Catholic.

The immediate and crucial context of the statement was, of course, Eucharistic: the bread and wine of Passover became a New Meal, sealed in the love-offering of the God-Man on the Cross. Jesus never offered a more literal declaration. Grammarians call “is” the copulative verb, because it joins subject and predicate. Bread and wine do not “represent,” “symbolize” or “suggest” His Presence-made-palatable to us: they are He.

Our Lord could utter those words on the night before He died because His mother Mary had lovingly consented to the angel’s invitation to bring Him into the world. In every human respect Our Lady was the first to say, “This is my body,” when she offered herself body and soul to the Holy Spirit’s creative action.

From the streets of Caesarea Philippi to the halls of heaven, Jesus has looked out upon this ragtag bunch and declared, “This is my body”: My Mystical Body, the Church. Since the apostles’ time, fellow disciples and leaders sometimes bewilder, yet what’s more a marvel? The Incarnation still alights upon our altars, pulpits and confessionals, and in every place where prayers, works, joys, and sufferings transform the world and pierce the clouds.

Then there is the furnace of the Christian vocation, considered precisely in the ways spouses, priests and consecrated religious “offer [their] bodies as a spiritual sacrifice”(Romans 12:1). Every well-lived example can say to its counterpart, “This is my body,” when, for example, spouses give themselves without reservation in the one-flesh union of sex, or when a priest attends to the sick and dying.

At the Consecration of the Precious Blood, sometimes I will look up at the chalice, see my reflection and then look down to the faithful. That intimate moment prompts a prophecy cited in the New Testament: “Here I am, and the children God has given me” (Isaiah 8:18; cf. Hebrews 2:13). I cannot be any closer to you, for this is my body – Christ’s Body – distinct from yet united to me.

Sounds romantic, but it must translate into daily life.

It’s easy to become a “bachelor who plays God.” Husbands and wives also can collapse into such a cavalier condition. The sexual realm is not the only possible domain of human degradation, but it’s the one that hurts the most. There’s no comfortable compromise: either a body is “given up for,” or it is not.

Our bodies, given up, convey love with exquisite splendor. Witness Catholic participation in education and healthcare; behold the beauty of our sacred music and architecture. Faithful, lifelong, heroic commitments compel like any well-articulated doctrine.

The Holy Eucharist, the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Apostolic Succession, the interiority of the spousal embrace, and the lived exteriority of beauty, goodness, and truth: this is Real Presence that can unite us as God intends.

Holy Orders: What are yours?

I recently came across business cards sponsored by the Vocations Committee and Knights of Columbus council of Holy Guardian Angels Parish, where I was Assistant Pastor from 01/2008 to 06/2014. I may consider reprinting them at my parish just as I print copies of my “Treasury of Prayer” for the hospitalized. 

Meanwhile, I share the content of the card. On one side, you have: Everyone has a vocation. What is yours? On the other side, a prayer: Father in heaven, bless our parish to be a nurturing faith community that encourages people to pursue their vocation. Amen. Since this post concerns the Sacrament of Holy Orders, it seemed appropriate to mention the card. 

Vocation starts at the baptismal font, with the “Universal Call to Holiness” that configures us to Jesus the Prophet (proclaimer of the Gospel), Priest (offerer of sacrifice), and King (caretaker of souls). We activate that call by making what St. John Paul II called “a sincere gift of self,” further specified in Holy Orders, Marriage, Religious Profession, or what I’ll call “Purposeful Celibacy” (as opposed to involuntary or default non-marriage). Religious Profession and Purposeful Celibacy are not sacramental expressions of vocation, but they are paths for lifelong consecration. Holy Orders, however, is a sacrament precisely because the Lord Jesus instituted it to generate and nourish the spiritual life of God’s people.

Priests and deacons often emerge from the “domestic Church” of the family, where habits of faithful Mass attendance, regular Confession, and personal prayer begin. They often receive support from fellow parishioners and (please God!) from clergy and religious. Or they may develop while in college or at work. We prayerfully consider and discuss our experiences to glean what about them pleases God and us. The signs generally aren’t cataclysmic, but rather simple: people’s suggestions, affirmation of talents, and our own areas of interest.

I believe it’s no coincidence that I originally wrote this column in the aftermath of the scandalous findings of the PA Grand Jury and a recent testimonial from a former Vatican representative to the United States who claims that numerous bishops and priests, and even the Pope himself, knew but acted improperly about the activities of former Cardinal Theodore McCarrick of Washington, DC. These events have shaken the faith of many Catholics, and the respect of many non-Catholics, around the world. Would a young man or woman even want to give his or her life to the Church, to help row this boat in such torrential waters?

Out of curiosity I looked up the word “aftermath” found in the previous paragraph. In farming, it means, “new grass growing after mowing or harvest.” If the sickle of sin has taken away some prideful weeds (mindful that weeds and wheat grow together; cf. Mt 13:24-30), by Our Lord’s own promise a new crop will grow. But it will be all the more incumbent upon us to engage in those perennial spiritual disciplines (prayer and the self-sacrifice of fasting and generosity), so the soil can be rich and ready for new seeds.

Properties of Marriage, Properties of Discipleship

Recently I wrote about marriage, especially in light of the recent decisions of the U.S. Supreme Court, which will allow states to redefine marriage by popular consent (and who knows what sort of consent will be popular or acceptable down the pike?). 

That homily/post supported a Catholic writer’s open online letter to priests and bishops, which urged us to preach the authentic Catholic faith no matter what the response. If I were to preach about one topic ad nauseam, it would be marriage and family life, because it is a common denominator with uncommon value.

The Scriptures comment on the essential properties of this great sacrament. The Gospel illustrates the qualities of marital fidelity and permanence, though within the specific context of apostolic labor. Jesus encourages seventy-two disciples to conduct themselves with innocence and simplicity. God’s servants must learn how to cope with the natural restlessness and fickleness that comes with their commitment. It seems understandable that they should “stay in the same house and eat and drink what is offered.”

Regarding that last point: I know I’m a finicky eater. I’m most grateful for the accommodations that our pastor and cook make for me, and I know that compromise is crucial. Regarding the matter of stability: I’ve only been at Holy Guardian Angels for 5 ½ years, but on a few occasions I've felt that I needed to move. It still comes…and goes…and comes back! At this point in my short life it’s hard to imagine being in the same assignment—or shall I say, relationship—for, say, 15 years (as our pastor has spent thus far). Now, the diocesan priest’s primary purpose is to serve the whole Diocese according to its needs, so there is no expected guarantee of residential permanence. Spouses pledge permanence not to a location, but to a person; and they fulfill that pledge one day at a time.

St. Paul’s words to the Galatians allude to the totality of the marriage covenant, on the basis of Jesus’ total investment of Self, to the extent of crucifixion and death. The topic of circumcision and other Jewish laws was of some concern to the Galatians, and Paul makes clear that these signs of commitment do not compare to the rebirth that comes from Christ. Paul suffered greatly so that this rebirth could extend to the Gentiles. In the same way, happily married couples will do and endure whatever is necessary within reason to preserve their union. 

Soon-to-be-Saint John Paul II was a devotee of the sacrament of marriage; he spent much time and much ink in its promotion. In one document he spoke of what spouses devote to their sacred bond, namely their bodies, their instincts, their feelings and affections, their deepest aspirations and their freedom (Familiaris Consortio, 13, quoted in CCC 1643).

The first reading from Isaiah considers the fruitfulness of God’s covenant with Israel, which extends to every individual and couple. The prophet employs earthy language (there is nothing earthier than a mother and her suckling child) and promptly refers it to material prosperity. Scots economist Adam Smith commandeered Isaiah’s phrase, “The Wealth of Nations,” for the abridged title of his 1776 treatise on capitalism. Isaiah makes it clear that God provides both the principal and the interest, even though one must presume the freedom of the investor. In the same way, God blesses a marriage with children when the material conditions are present. 

According to the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council, marriage is ordered toward the procreation and education of children, “and it is in them that marriage finds its crowning glory.” Children unwittingly assist their parents in the fulfillment of their marital calling, which is nothing less than their personal and communal path to holiness (Gaudium et Spes, quoted in CCC 1652). Whether or not their marriage is physically fertile, a couple must see their children as a gift and not a right to be obtained by any means. When couples invest themselves in marriage with permanence, fidelity, and joy, their marriage becomes fruitful, whatever form that fruitfulness may take. No vocation to marriage, consecrated life, or priesthood, flourishes if the person is consumed with himself.

We cannot help but recognize the many imperfect and often sinful situations among us: failed marriages, serial marriages, children born outside of marriage, children born outside of natural conception, children affected by failed marriages, marriages strained by pornography, infidelity, same-sex activity, individuals and couples who have compromised their fertility by contraception or who have at some point refuted it by abortion; not to mention the cavalcade of dysfunction in which every individual and family shares. These realities do not deter  the Church from affirming the whole truth of married love. God respects our freedom regardless of how we use it, for reasons He knows best and we know impartially. At every conscious moment we must reaffirm our desire for heaven and recommit to the choices that are conducive to it.

We can never forget, however, that God also makes a total commitment of Self. His care for us is ever constant and extensive. As married persons, consecrated religious, and priests strive to remain faithful to our respective vocations, the Lord Jesus promises the power we need to recognize and resist Satan’s wiles, a power we must develop through prayer, the sacraments, charity, and virtue. Divine sustenance in this life is consistent with eternal life, wherein, with indelible ink, our “names are written in heaven.”

The Spice of Life

Today the eighth graders were subjected treated to a presentation on Saint Thomas Aquinas: his early life, his intellectual formation, and his contributions to Catholic thought.

I wish I had my phone so that I could take a picture of the whiteboard to show you, patient readers, all that we talked about.  Reconstruction from memory is fairly reliable: Thomas' noble birth, his family's distaste for his vocation to the Dominicans (his parents imprisoned him for 15 months in a futile attempt to dissuade him), his education under St. Albert the Great, the compilation of the Catena Aurea, the Summa Contra Gentiles and the Summa Theologiae, and especially the mihi videtur ut palea incident of 1273.  You know that one, where a spiritual experience moved Thomas to stop writing because it all seemed to him "like straw."  And his obedience to the Pope who had asked him to travel to the Council of Lyons as a theological expert...which he never got to do, because he died en route.

Boy, you're gonna carry that weight a long time

The presentation seemed to go well.  It helped that the teacher was in the room, and many of the students just had gym class, which tuckered them out.  Before I left the classroom, one of the boys came up to me and asked me some questions about the origin of my interest in the priesthood, and what I was like at their age.  Encounters like that are what it's all about.  I suspect that not so many priests get to chat with kids, because we're afraid, or "too busy," or whatever.  How else will they learn what a priest is like, so that they might possibly consider themselves as potential candidates?

From there it was off to the Seniors Club meeting, where my ministry includes pulling the winning tickets for the 50/50 raffle, being an occasional musical act, and catching up with people whom I have visited in the hospital, or whose spouses I've buried since coming to this parish a little over five years ago.  To think that I left last month's meeting to watch the election of the Pope with a few elderly parishioners!

Add to that a handful of phone calls, hospital visits, and some clerical work (in the other, more typical sense: reorganizing instructional materials), and seal it with a kiss (the 7:30am Mass), and you have a day in the life of a parish priest.

The variety of people and circumstances in the diocesan priesthood was a major selling point for me, not to mention the idea that the priests I knew were wise, intelligent, humorous, considerate, and happy men...all the qualities I wanted for myself.

If I can exercise most of those qualities most of the time, for God's glory and for the good of souls, bueno!

The Decision and the Details

Blogger Simcha Fisher treats the subject of one's vocation ("first earthly obligation") and the life-long realities involved: prayer, common sense, decision.

THIS is the Real Thing

Thanks to a reader for this link, "The Chalice, the Pepsi Can, and Sexuality."

(I forgot that I can embed the video:)

"Nobody will choose their proper vocation if they do not see themselves as sacred."
"What do You want of me, if this is how You created me?"

This realization of self as precious-because-made-in-God's-image was not fully present in me when I was ordained, nor was it fully present when I applied to the seminary.  It remains an area for continued growth.

Underlying one will find a tendency to extreme thinking: "If I do not accept this proposition 100%, I am not accepting it at all, and therefore am unfit for a vocation."  A rather high bar to set for my oneself, don't you think?

How many current spouses (that's a vocation, yo) can say that they had accepted themselves as God's Image by the time they got to the altar?

How many people's struggles in this regard manifest themselves as so many different attachments: alcohol, food, sex, spending, work, _______?

How many persons find a way to the altar (as spouses, religious, or priests) with some sort of attachment?  Perhaps they deny it, or are not yet able to see it; perhaps their spouse is in the same position--either seeing or ignoring--yet chooses them anyhow!

Faith is saying, "I can't see it, but You claim to have created me in Your Image, to have thought enough of me to suffer and die for me; so, OK.  Have it Your Way" and then Faith is living with that acceptance in the forefront--wherever it takes you.

A life of faith is an effervescent life.