Tomorrow is the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ (Corpus Domini). It is a special moment for us, members of the Pauline Family, born of the Eucharist.
Following the inspiring reflection of Fr. Raniero Cantalamessa on the theme, I take the Second Reading as point of departure: "For 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.” In the same way also the cup, after supper, saying, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me." For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes." (1 Corinthians 11:23-26)
St. Paul presents us here with the most ancient account of the institution of the Eucharist. Fr. Cantalamessa suggests: "Let us try to find something new in the Eucharistic mystery, using the concept of memorial: Do this in memory of me. Memory is one of the most mysterious and greatest powers of the human spirit. Everything seen, heard and done from early childhood is conserved in this immense womb, ready to reawaken and to dance into the light either by an external stimulus or by our own will. Without memory we will cease to be ourselves, we will lose our identity. Those who are struck by total amnesia, wander lost on the streets, without knowing their own name or where they live. A memory, once it has come to mind, has the power to catalyze our whole interior world and route everything toward its object, especially if this is not a thing or a fact, but a living person. (…) This very rich human background in regard to memory should help us better understand what the Eucharist is for the Christian people."
Indeed we can ask, how is the Eucharist different from what has been described above? Fr. Cantalamessa affirms, “It is a memorial because it recalls the event to which all of humanity now owes its existence as redeemed humanity: the death of the Lord. But the Eucharist has something that distinguishes it from every other memorial. It is memorial and presence together, even if hidden under the signs of bread and wine. Memorial Day cannot bring those who have fallen back to life; the Gandhi Memorial cannot make Gandhi alive again. In a sense, the Eucharistic memorial, however, according to the faith of Christians, does this in regard to Christ."
Secondly, human memory naturally brings us back to the past. Says Cantalamessa, “But together with all the beautiful things that we have said about memory, we must mention a danger that is inherent to it. Memory can be easily transformed into sterile and paralyzing nostalgia. This happens when a person becomes the prisoner of his own memories and ends up living in the past.”
But the Eucharistic memorial is qualitatively different. In what way? It projects us forward. Indeed, after the consecration, the priest says, “Let us proclaim the mystery of faith” to which we respond "We proclaim your death, O Lord, and confess your resurrection, until you come." Fr. Cantalamessa comments on this, relating it to an ancient text attributed to St. Thomas Aquinas that defines the Eucharist as the sacred feast in which "Christ is received, the memory of his passion is celebrated, the soul is filled with grace, and we are given the pledge of future glory." ("O sacrum convivium")
Come to think of it, the Eucharistic memorial has truly changed the whole meaning of “memory.” To synthesize, it is for us "ever-present-memory." In fact, the other reality we relate to the Eucharist is “Presence.” And this “Presence” is eternal and could never be “past!” It could never be simply “a memory” as we know it.
Following the inspiring reflection of Fr. Raniero Cantalamessa on the theme, I take the Second Reading as point of departure: "For 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.” In the same way also the cup, after supper, saying, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me." For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes." (1 Corinthians 11:23-26)
St. Paul presents us here with the most ancient account of the institution of the Eucharist. Fr. Cantalamessa suggests: "Let us try to find something new in the Eucharistic mystery, using the concept of memorial: Do this in memory of me. Memory is one of the most mysterious and greatest powers of the human spirit. Everything seen, heard and done from early childhood is conserved in this immense womb, ready to reawaken and to dance into the light either by an external stimulus or by our own will. Without memory we will cease to be ourselves, we will lose our identity. Those who are struck by total amnesia, wander lost on the streets, without knowing their own name or where they live. A memory, once it has come to mind, has the power to catalyze our whole interior world and route everything toward its object, especially if this is not a thing or a fact, but a living person. (…) This very rich human background in regard to memory should help us better understand what the Eucharist is for the Christian people."
Indeed we can ask, how is the Eucharist different from what has been described above? Fr. Cantalamessa affirms, “It is a memorial because it recalls the event to which all of humanity now owes its existence as redeemed humanity: the death of the Lord. But the Eucharist has something that distinguishes it from every other memorial. It is memorial and presence together, even if hidden under the signs of bread and wine. Memorial Day cannot bring those who have fallen back to life; the Gandhi Memorial cannot make Gandhi alive again. In a sense, the Eucharistic memorial, however, according to the faith of Christians, does this in regard to Christ."
Secondly, human memory naturally brings us back to the past. Says Cantalamessa, “But together with all the beautiful things that we have said about memory, we must mention a danger that is inherent to it. Memory can be easily transformed into sterile and paralyzing nostalgia. This happens when a person becomes the prisoner of his own memories and ends up living in the past.”
But the Eucharistic memorial is qualitatively different. In what way? It projects us forward. Indeed, after the consecration, the priest says, “Let us proclaim the mystery of faith” to which we respond "We proclaim your death, O Lord, and confess your resurrection, until you come." Fr. Cantalamessa comments on this, relating it to an ancient text attributed to St. Thomas Aquinas that defines the Eucharist as the sacred feast in which "Christ is received, the memory of his passion is celebrated, the soul is filled with grace, and we are given the pledge of future glory." ("O sacrum convivium")
Come to think of it, the Eucharistic memorial has truly changed the whole meaning of “memory.” To synthesize, it is for us "ever-present-memory." In fact, the other reality we relate to the Eucharist is “Presence.” And this “Presence” is eternal and could never be “past!” It could never be simply “a memory” as we know it.
