Tuesday, June 5, 2012

On Breaking Bread


(By Caravaggio - 1601)
 “They recognized Him in the breaking of the bread.” (Lk 24: 31)

On Breaking Bread

Feast of Corpus Christi, June 10, 2012
Exodus 24:3-8       Hebrews 9:11-15       Mark 14:12-16, 22-26


Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to Mark
Glory to you, Lord.

On the first day of the Feast of Unleavened Bread, when they sacrificed the Passover lamb, Jesus' disciples said to him, "Where do you want us to go and prepare for you to eat the Passover?" He sent two of his disciples and said to them, "Go into the city and a man will meet you, carrying a jar of water. Follow him. Wherever he enters, say to the master of the house, 'The Teacher says, "Where is my guest room where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?"' Then he will show you a large upper room furnished and ready. Make the preparations for us there." The disciples then went off, entered the city, and found it just as He had told them; and they prepared the Passover.

While they were eating, He took bread, said the blessing, broke it, gave it to them, and said,
"Take it; this is my body." Then He took a cup, gave thanks, and gave it to them, and they all drank from it. He said to them, "This is my blood of the covenant, which will be shed for many. Amen, I say to you, I shall not drink again the fruit of the vine until the day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God." Then they sang a hymn and went out to the Mount of Olives.

The Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
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Introduction

Still God-with-us
In His ascension into heaven Jesus promised He would not leave us orphans but would be with us to the end of time. (Jn 14:14)  He kept his promise by sending us the Holy Spirit on Pentecost. He kept it also by giving us the Eucharist -- his abiding presence among us. Though ascended into heaven, Jesus is still Emmanuel – still God-with-us in the Eucharist.

Communion - food for sinners
With a bit of nostalgia older Catholics recall the solemn celebration of Corpus Christi. It was a big production: the Eucharist (encased in an elaborate monstrance and under a portable canopy) solemnly processed through villages in valleys and hamlets on hills. Three times the procession stopped along the way for benediction with the Blessed Sacrament.

Corpus Christi is no longer the big production it used to be. With Vatican II (1959-1962) dramatic changes have taken place in the Eucharistic life of the Church. In pre-Vatican days on a Sunday morning, only 20 to 30 people out of a packed congregation would rise to receive Communion. They were the ones who considered themselves in the state of `Sanctifying Grace’ after making a `good’ sacramental confession. The rest of the faithful (who had not confessed their `mortal sins,’ or who were divorced and remarried, or who hadn’t fasted from every speck of food and drink from midnight on) remained nailed to their pews at Communion time. All that has changed dramatically: now a whole congregation of sinners rises to receive Communion. It’s a new day in the Eucharistic life of the Church: Communion now is not a reward for saints but food for sinners on the human journey.

Present in the breaking of the bread
In pre-Vatican days, the emphasis was on Jesus present in the bread. At the elevation of the Mass, the consecrated bread was raised on high, and a bell was rung to make sure everyone was awake and was looking at Jesus present in the bread. There was a kind of salvation in gazing upon Jesus present in the bread held on high -- very much like the salvation that came upon the Israelites when they gazed upon the bronze serpent fashioned by Moses and held on high. (Num. 21:4-9; Jn. 12:32) Some remember also how on big feast days Mass was `climaxed’ with benediction with the Blessed Sacrament; it was a kind of `frosting’ on the cake[1]. The Eucharist encased in the monstrance was held on high, so all could gaze upon Jesus present in the bread.

In this new day, emphasis is on Jesus present in the breaking of the bread.  On that first Easter morning when two of the disciples were on the road to Emmaus, they met a stranger. At dusk they looked for lodging, and invited the stranger to stay and supper with them. At table, the stranger took bread, blessed it, broke it and gave it to the disciples. And at that moment, Scripture says, “Their eyes were opened, and they recognized Jesus in the breaking of the bread.” (Lk 24:31)

Bread not broken
Karl Jung, the father of modern psychology, describes the day of his first Communion.

I awaited the day with eager anticipation, and the day finally dawned. There behind the altar stood my father in his familiar robes. He read prayers from the liturgy. On the white cloth covering the altar lay large trays filled with small pieces of bread which came from the local baker whose goods were nothing to brag about. I watched my father eat a piece of the bread and then sip the wine which came from the local tavern. He then passed the cup to one of the old men.  All were stiff, solemn, and it seemed to me, uninterested. I looked on in suspense, but could not see nor guess whether anything unusual was going on inside the old men. I saw no sadness and no joy in them. Then came my turn to eat the bread which tasted flat, and to sip the wine which tasted sour. After the final prayer all the people swiftly pealed out of church, neither depressed nor illumined with joy, but with faces that seemed to say. "Well, that's that." In a minute or two the whole church was emptied. (Memories, Dreams, Reflections)  

In the course of the following days it dawned on Jung that nothing had happened on the day of his first Holy Communion: bread had not really been broken, and Jesus had not been recognized in the breaking of the bread. Jung found himself saying, "Why, that is not religion at all. It is, in fact, an absence of God. I must never go back there again. It’s not life but death that’s there.” (Memories, Dreams, Reflections)  Jung’s very first Communion proved to be fatal: it turned out to be his very last Communion!
Fr. Judge – a great bread-breaker
Franciscan Fr. Mychal Judge, (1933-2001) was a compassionate champion of the needy and forgotten of New York City, and a beloved chaplain of the N.Y. City Fire Department. The story of his incredibly selfless life and heroic death in the line of duty as chaplain of the fire department was one of the first to come out of the horrendous 9/11 attack on the World Trade Center in Lower Manhattan. 

Fr. Judge had an encyclopedic memory for people’s names, birthdays, and passions. He knew everyone from the homeless to Mayor Giuliani who declared at his funeral that “The man was a saint.” And though he was a true New Yorker, born and raised in the City, everybody knew that he lived on entirely different plain of priorities than most New Yorkers: he was non-acquisitive, unselfish, and utterly uncomplaining. On Christmas Eve, he’d walk up Ninth Avenue, in his brown habit and sandals, carrying a baby doll wrapped in a towel, to a shelter for abused and homeless women. There he’d place the doll on a table which served as the altar for Mass, and he’d ask the women, “Where do you think baby Jesus would want to be tonight, and then he’d answer his own question: “Right here with you, celebrating his birthday.”

Fr. Judge did such a wonderful job of breaking bread with the people of New York City and of revealing Jesus in his bread-breaking that his funeral Mass on September 15, 2001, in St. Francis of Assisi Church, NYC was attended by a sea of 3,000 people! In that sea of humanity were former President Bill Clinton and New York Senator Hillary Clinton with daughter Chelsea. And when a few days later a memorial service was held for Fr. Mychal in Good Shepherd Chapel on Ninth Ave. (an Anglican church) an endless stream of priests, nuns, lawyers, cops, firefighter, homeless people, rock-and-rollers, recovering alcoholics, local politicians and middle age couples from the suburbs came flocking to memorialize this great bread-breaker.

Bp Untener - a great bread-breaker
Bishop of Saginaw, MI., Kenneth Edward Untener (1937- 2004) was also a great bread-breaker. His first words as bishop to the people of his diocese were: "My name is Ken, and I will be your waiter for a long, long time.” Then Bp. Untener proceeded to wait upon his people and break bread for them. He sold the bishop's mansion, and for the next 24 years lived in 69 rectories. The trunk of his car became his office.

On the 25th anniversary of Pope Paul VI's encyclical letter Humanae Vitae in 1993 (reaffirming the Church's stand against artificial birth control) Untener used the occasion to keep his promise to be a waiter serving his people. He invited his Church to reopen an honest and transparent discussion on birth control. (His invitation was not well received.) On the issue of divorce, Untener said, “I am not here to condemn divorced people, nor am I here to condone them. I am here to help them. Jesus did not come to condemn or condone the woman caught in adultery; He came to help her.”
On the day of his episcopal consecration Untener told his people "My name is Ken, and I will be your waiter for a long, long time.” He did such a wonderful job of breaking bread in his diocese that a throng of 1800 people attended his funeral Mass. The service evoked tears and laughter, audible `amens’ and a standing ovation. What a sharp contrast that was from Jung’s first Communion day, when after the final prayer all the people swiftly pealed out of church, “neither depressed nor illumined with joy, but with faces that seemed to say. `Well, that's that.’"
Conclusion
Present in both
Is Jesus present in the bread, or is He present in the breaking of the bread? He’s present in both. Whenever bread has been truly broken, Jesus is present in that bread-breaking. And the faithful don’t peel out of church saying “Well, that’s that!” but rather linger on with “tears and laughter, audible `amens’ and a standing ovation.” And very much like Peter on the Mount of Transfiguration (Mt. 17:4) the faithful cry out, “Oh how good it was for us to be here at Mass this morning! We’re definitely coming back next Sunday.”

But Jesus is present also in the Bread carried solemnly in Corpus Christi processions through villages in valleys and hamlets on hills, or quietly reposed in tabernacles. It is Jesus present in the tabernacle which makes great cathedrals and small chapels welcomed rest spots for the weary faithful, just as Jacob’s well was a welcomed rest spot for the weary Jesus passing through Samaria. (Jn. 4:6) Sanctuary lamps in cathedrals and chapels, glowing gently and faithfully in the dusk, assure us that we are not alone on the human journey. He who promised “I will be with you always, even to the end of the world” (Mt. 28:20) keeps his promise in the Eucharist.


[1] Benediction immediately after Mass is now forbidden