Alleluia,
alleluia!
I
am the living bread from heaven, says the Lord;
whoever
eats this bread will live for ever.
Alleluia!
Cf Jn 6:51-52
One of the persistent images
that appears throughout the scriptures, both Hebrew and Christian is that of
God providing food for his people. It appears in Genesis (2:9) where the
Creator makes trees grow from the ground that were pleasing to the eye and good for food, Exodus (16:4), where the
Lord rained down bread from heaven. It recurs in each of the Gospels (the feeding
of 5,000) while two Gospels (Mark and Matthew) have an additional feeding of
the multitude. What is this relationship between food and the divine?
The Hebrew Passover and the
Christian Last Supper/Eucharist are formalised actions and memorials that relive
and re-enact their institution. They are a part of a metanarrative or master
story about human dependence on the divine: the food appears at various levels
from physically sustaining to spiritually sustaining. Such a narrative appears
in many other religions.
These master stories speak to
us because they dig into our most primitive needs. In response to the provision
of food, our ancestors offered sacrifices to their God in thanksgiving, in
appeasement, for divine favours.
Against this background, we
have the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ – in essence, a feast to
remember the redemptive effects of the Eucharist. It is now clear that the food
(bread and wine) no longer represent physical, spiritual or symbolic food, but
are now the physical presence of the divine. A universal feast since 1264, this
celebration is a child of the Middle Ages where God’s perceived intervention
into this world was through miracles explained as mystery. This notion was
rejected by the reformists of the 16th century.
In our Catholic story, the
Eucharist has been front and centre of who we are as church. We might well have
layered our understanding, but this only enables the greatest treasures to be
mined from its patrimony. At its core, this ritual celebration is an engagement
of the assembly of the faithful with their God – it makes sense of our
relationship and codependence on each other, it gives meaning to the
relationship we have with our environment and the abundance of its harvests,
but it equally unveils a real and substantial relationship with our God, maybe
with mirrors and smokescreens, but most of all in the way that we are
personally transformed in the presence of the divine.
Peter Douglas
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Shushed, scolded, and welcomed: Our readers tell us how kids are treated
in their parishes
Children are vital
to sustaining parish life. Seventy-two percent of our reader sample told America that,
for good or ill, the way their children were welcomed had a critical effect on
their own relationship with their parish.
Fifty-eight percent
of our readers told us that their experience of bringing children into their
faith community was positive. Among these readers, 24 percent described how
people had played with, engaged or included their children. Roberta Owen of
Massachusetts expressed gratitude that her pastor “said not to worry about kids
crying or wiggling during Mass” and described her support from a fellow
parishioner, who encouraged her to breastfeed “and said what a gift it was to
have babies at Mass.” Laura Fanucci of Minnesota explained how her parish’s
positive response has been beneficial both to her own faith life and that of
her children. “I know it is the loving welcome of our pastors and their
willingness to literally take our kids up into their arms that has been
formative for our sons,” said Ms. Fanucci. “Even on the Sundays that we think
of as our ‘worst’ Masses—when kids have screamed, cried, had tantrums or had to
be taken out of church—we've always had older adults come up to us afterward
and thank us for bringing them to Mass.”
The remaining 42
percent of readers were largely reluctant to characterize their children’s
introduction to their parish as devoid of positive qualities, but many told us
that negative interactions made bringing their children to Mass very stressful.
“I have two children on the autism spectrum,” explained Megan Williams from
North Carolina. “A parishioner ripped my son's ear plug out of his ear and
shook his head at us. They were plain, simple ear plugs because he can't handle
the bells at the consecration.” From Alabama, Paul Wiget reported his faith
life is directly affected by how his children are received at Mass. “I hate
going to church. I have to tell myself it's about growing closer to Christ, but
it just brings out the worst in me in child-policing.” For some parents, bad
experiences led them to change parishes. This was true of Caprice Sauter of
Washington State, who was grateful she made this decision. “It shouldn't be so
hard to take your kids to Mass,” said Ms. Sauter. “I'm glad we persevered—we've
got wonderful devout teens.”
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