adoration | The Catholic Realist

Sacrament of Love

Posted on May 10, 2013 by ymkbird

My son received his First Communion last week. Amidst all the processions, bread sharings, Scapular inductions, white dresses and camera-wielding in laws – amidst all the hoopla – the parish photographer managed to snap this photo of my son at the moment he received Jesus for the first time.

I cannot get enough of this picture. I look at it every day. Not just because it’s my kid (but seriously, check it out – that’s my boy! – he and Jesus are tight now). I also look at it every day because every time I do, the look on his face brings me to tears.

I know my son well enough to know that there are a thousand different thoughts that could have been running through his head at this moment:

Don’t drop it…don’t drop it…don’t drop it…don’t drop it.

I wonder if Mom will let me play Minecraft when we get home.

I hate tacos, why are we having tacos for my First Communion party.

I’m totally giving my load of bread to Zach. He’s cool.

Cake…frosting…cookies…party!

Do I HAVE to take the cup? It tastes nasty.

Father needs to cut his fingernails.

My eyes itch.

(Poor kid had nasty allergies all week – in some of the pictures he looks like he has two black eyes).

As much as I would like to believe he was having a Blessed Imelda Lambertini moment, I know it’s possible (ahem – likely) that’s far from the case. After I saw the picture the next day, I asked him: “What were you thinking about right then?” His response, complete with the dismissive shoulder shrug, was all 8 year old boy: “Dunno. Jesus, I guess. Can I go play a video game now?”

But you know, it kind of doesn’t matter. Because the look on his face in this moment speaks a thousand words. They may not be his words, but I am certain that they are our words. They are the words of the Bride to the Bridegroom – of the Church to Christ – of us to Our Lord. They are the words of the deepest love.

The words of love visible on my son’s face in that moment are an echo of the words of Pope Benedict in his encyclical Sacramentum Caritatis (Sacrament of Love):

Receiving the Eucharist means adoring him whom we receive. Only in this way do we become one with him, and are given, as it were, a foretaste of the beauty of the heavenly liturgy.

Oh, would that our hearts, souls, minds, and faces would reflect this same look each and every time we receive this Sacrament of Love!

Jesus is Sneaky.

Posted on August 21, 2012 by chriskmn

I didn’t expect the hand rung bell. I was at a Saturday Evening Mass at a parish in Miacatlan, Mexico. The Priest had just finished the consecration. We prayed through the Our Father and shared a sign of peace. The Church was mostly a large roof over an open air seating area. Out of the back and around the corner of the far wall came the clanking sound of two hand rung bells. I didn’t know what it was at first. Then I realized; the head communion minister, the two servers, and about 10 other people with banners were processing the Eucharist from the tabernacle to the altar for Communion.

The ministers and honor guard walked slowly and with purpose. They were careful in their task. Every step and every movement showed the great care and deep respect they held for what they were doing and who they were carrying. Every couple steps the servers rang these impossibly heavy looking bells. The group was so careful with the Eucharist. It was as if they were carrying the very body of Jesus Christ (which of course they were). I was left asking if we are that careful. More importantly I asked, am I that careful with what I carry when I walk out of Church having received Jesus and I am a tabernacle of the Eucharist?

Curiously, this wasn’t the only time I encountered Christ in the Eucharist that trip. When we stopped by a small chapel in Cuernavaca where the founder of NPH was first pastor, the chapel was open for walk-ins for noontime adoration. When we visited the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City, a huge monstrance was exposed in a side chapel and many of us stopped to worship. It seemed everywhere I went Jesus was present in the Eucharist.

Reflecting on a summer of Youth Ministry with the CREW at HNOJ, it became abundantly clear God was near us in the Eucharist. At Christpower, our Mission trip to North Minneapolis in partnership with Church of the Ascension, we had a powerful night of Eucharistic adoration. At the Steubenville Youth Conference in Rochester, Jesus once again came to our young people in the Eucharist during the large session, and our small groups always seemed to end up by the small Adoration Chapel.

Everywhere we turned Jesus was offering us his very body in the Mass and Eucharistic Adoration. I shouldn’t be shocked that Jesus is present in the Eucharist, but I was legitimately amazed all the times that Jesus snuck himself into a day of Youth Ministry when we had no purposeful intention to meeting him the Eucharist.

I guess Jesus is sneaky.

Besides being sneaky, Jesus is persistent. I really felt like Jesus was pursuing us all summer. Every event, every day it seemed like Jesus was physically really there. Every corner we turned at each event, Jesus was there. Jesus just wouldn’t leave us alone. This is closer to reality then I normally think about. Jesus really is chasing after us. He really is coming for us. Jesus won’t let us just wander without coming to find us.

We are the dropped coin, the lost sheep, the prodigal son, and our God is coming for us.

I think we often talk about people “finding God.” People may say, “Oh he found Jesus.” But in reality, Jesus is finding us. And here is the thing, Jesus doesn’t just come in some metaphorical way or some random turn of events or some supernatural sign – no. Jesus is coming for us physically, really, truly, completely in the Eucharist. Jesus is literally physically running down the road to meet us. Jesus in the Eucharist isn’t a symbol, idea, poem, or myth. The physical, fleshy God of the universe, incarnate (which means ‘taking on flesh’) in Jesus Christ, has come to find us. God doesn’t send an angel or a cloud shaped like heart to tell us he loves us and wants to be with us, God comes himself.

No messenger, no poetry, no text message or tweet – the God that breathed the stars has come physically to find you and me.

What are you going to do when he finds you? How are you going to respond when God Almighty offers his body to you at the next Mass you attend? What are you going to do the next time you step into that Eucharistic Adoration Chapel at HNOJ? How will you react the next time you come into the physical present of God?

I’m More Catholic Than You

Posted on March 27, 2012 by RRMM

“It is dangerous to make everyone go forward by the same road, and worse to measure others by yourself.” (St. Ignatius of Loyola) 

Dear Fellow Good, Practicing Catholics,

Please stop trying to “out-Catholic” others all the time.

I get it, you know the faith really well. You’ve read some (or maybe many) books and watched some faith-based shows and movies. You’ve heard some great speakers and been on some highly spiritual retreats. You’ve had deep encounters with God and maybe have a deep understanding of one thing or another. Perhaps there’s someone in your family with religious vocation or you are good friends with a priest or a nun.

Maybe you are able to get to daily Mass. Or have a daily Holy Hour. Perhaps you serve the Church in some form of ministry. Possibly you have a deep devotion to Mary or one (or many) of the saints. Novenas might be a regular form of prayer for you or perhaps you never miss praying your daily rosary.

Uh-oh! I made a joke about holiness...i must not be very Catholic!

You might be an activist who stands outside of Planned Parenthood every Saturday morning to pray for the end of abortions. Or, maybe you write letters to your congressmen on a regular basis trying to get laws changed. Maybe you vehemently oppose all things secular or use Facebook as a platform to preach the word of God.

And, every one of those things are good and noble. But, they don’t make you a “better” Catholic than everyone else.   Read More