The Eagerness to Receive Jesus
Every now and then while I am distributing Communion, a youngster (who is clearly not yet seven years of age) reaches for the host. Most commonly, this occurs when mom or dad (or maybe brother or sister) is holding the little one. I hold up the host, declare those remarkable words “The Body of Christ,” and little Billy or Ralph or Jillian or Francine (or whatever the name is) extends his or her hand in the hopes of receiving something special. Naturally, I gently redirect the extremity, but I usually whisper something along the lines of “a few years yet—and in the meantime, keep that desire alive.”
I invariably find those moments both charming and profound. Obviously, it is most likely that the youngster in question is reaching out because that is just what youngsters do: they explore, they grab things, they seek to figure out their surroundings in a very tactile fashion. And yet, at the same time, this sincere interest in the Eucharist—if not perhaps even a touch of momentary fascination, to the extent that pre-seven-year-olds can summon that state—always serves as a gentle invitation from the Lord to me. It calls me to what I am tempted to dub a “Eucharistic examination of conscience.” Do I cultivate in my heart—a heart that is at least intellectually aware of the Eucharistic mystery—the same wide-eyed wonder that the little one displays, even if the youngster’s wonder is essentially a function of her youth? If anything, my own wonder ought to be far greater than hers! Do I have the same eagerness to receive Jesus in this most profound Sacrament? Do I truly surrender to the immensity of God’s love that comes to me in the Eucharist? Or have I let habit and routine dull my awareness and curb the awe and wonder that the mystery of the Eucharist ought to elicit?
Thankfully, God provides opportunities for me to be shaken out of my stupor. While the aforementioned moments with young people are certainly significant, so too are the ever-so-brief encounters that occur with every person to whom I am privileged to give Communion. Each person coming forward carries a personal history, with its own joys and sorrows, its successes and failures, its triumphs and struggles, and I have the immense privilege of bringing Jesus to meet that history—and truly, those histories, as person after person comes forth—anew as I say those tremendous words, “The Body of Christ.” As I place the host in the hand or on the tongue of each communicant, I am myself placed as a mediator between Christ himself and this beloved one whom he has claimed for himself. When I pause to consider how Jesus has been pleased to make me a servant of his Eucharistic mystery, I cannot but be humbled.
God never ceases to invite us to renew our awe before the mystery of the Eucharist, to combat the tendency to let the regularity of our celebration of the Mass render it merely “routine.” Happily, as noted above, God has given me several opportunities—and I could list more, to be sure!—to let the awe reignite within me. As the week unfolds, I invite you to consider some of the moments which might allow you to rekindle your own sense of wonder before this magnificent expression of the Lord’s love for his people.
