Eucharist Archives - Amazing Catechists

Jesus’ Missionary Healers

A few years ago, as I was ushering my 3rd grade Sunday School class to our annual Advent confession day, I reminded them that Jesus was present in the Tabernacle. One of the girls repeated the word “Tabernacle” several times, as if chewing on the word, before proclaiming, “Tabernacle…that’s my favorite word!” It became the word that grounded us when lessons about the Trinity and Church teaching somehow became a weekly update about everyone’s pets. The Tabernacle was our anchor, and each class I reminded them that Jesus was present in that gold box called a Tabernacle whenever they saw that red sanctuary candle lit.

As our Church grapples with the sorrows of the past few months, I feel buoyed up by this memory. It reminds me that our Church is made of much more than the few people who have led us to disappointment and doubt, and I feel emboldened to pray the Creed. Yes, Lord I believe in One God…

I believe that there is a power in being a broken Church. Certainly the Apostles, who felt the corruption and blasphemy of the leaders of their faith at the Church’s very beginnings, must have felt similar emotions. Who can I trust? Is the Lord really present in this Church? Is it worth staying?

Years ago, when I lived in Rome, my parish was Sancta Maria in Trastevere. In the early Church, the taverns, which occupied the Church’s current location, became the very place where the Gospel was spread and hearts were converted to Christ. This bit of history reminds me that the Gospel is not meant to be experienced solely within the confines of the physical church building, and that Jesus Christ is not meant to be kept on reserve in the Tabernacle like a book in a library. Rather, we are all, priest and parishioner alike, meant to proclaim that Gospel and bring that Presence of Christ wherever we go. We are both Tabernacle and sanctuary candle, alive with Christ, present within us, and aflame with the joy of Love Incarnate.

A few years ago, the Holy Father challenged us to be “Missionary Disciples.” I think that, particularly now, we must also be Missionary Healers. Every person is wounded, even (and perhaps most especially) the wound-er. We must accept into our hearts the broken, those who feel alone and rejected. We must give them a resting place in our hearts so that they can experience the warmth of Christ’s Presence in our hearts. Often it is in this moment of mercy that I recognize He is really there.

The world is cold and dark, but His Presence is still aflame, even if it feels like the dying embers of a once roaring fire. The fact remains that light is more powerful than darkness. Even in the darkness we have the moon and stars for light, just as we have Our Lady and the saints (and each other!), giving us hope, pointing us to the sun we cannot see.

We must have faith even when those who promise to lead us go astray, and remain strong in our defense of Christ and His Church, even when our offense fails. We must pray for our leaders, our parish priests who are on the front lines, the offensive line, if you will, taking the hits even when the quarterback fumbles. We are the defense and special teams! We must support our faithful offense, the clergy, who lead us to closer to the endzone, to our Heavenly goal, to become saints in God’s kingdom.

Only God knows the trajectory of our Church. It is my hope, however, that this horrific experience will generate saints of all states of life. Our faith is stronger than sin, as it is made of the very Presence of Christ in our hearts, so long as we let Him remain there. We are living Tabernacles, charged with bringing healing to our broken world. Together we can rebuild His Church, a mission not unique to Saint Francis.

I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge that each of us is broken, wounded by sin, others, and the fallen world in which we live. To all of you, let Christ heal you! He accepts you, as broken as you are. You are never too broken for God.

When you find yourself feeling lost remember the anchor. You are a Tabernacle, Jesus Christ is with you, and you have a mission. Our Church will never crumble because Christ is truly present in our sanctuaries, in our hearts, and in those of countless other Christians. Wherever you are, at home or in your car, at work or school, in a bar or a tavern, you are a Missionary Healer, because you are His and He is yours.

Highly Recommended: The Mass of Brother Michel, by Michael Kent

By Lisa Mladinich

The Mass of Brother Michel is an exceptionally entertaining novel with great depth and charm, beautifully told, and set in France during the Protestant Reformation.

Hinging on the love of a young nobleman for his childhood sweetheart, this is at its heart a Eucharistic story, full of surprises, about the way God’s love transforms and blesses the human heart through suffering and struggle.

Ultimately, this exciting and satisfying page-turner grapples with the nature of love itself. Romantic, spiritually insightful, and hilariously funny, the plot features two main characters, Michel and Louise, who do something that rarely occurs in contemporary literature–they grow in holiness. But rather than being a typical religious story wrapped clumsily around an agenda, Michael Kent’s intensely rewarding saga of love and redemption entertains and delights for its authenticity and high-stakes action throughout. The climactic final scene is truly unforgettable.

The Mass of Brother Michel, originally published in 1942 and reprinted in 2017 by Angelico Press, richly deserves to be counted as a spiritual classic on par with the works of Sigrid Undset, Michael O’Brien, and Evelyn Waugh. Kudos to the folks at Angelico for bringing this lost treasure to light and sharing it with the world.

Highly recommended for all who love the Catholic faith, especially the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist.

NOTE: This book contains mature themes and some violence, but no sexually-explicit content. Appropriate for readers 16 and up.

Being “Little Marys”

By Maureen Smith

As I was driving with Jesus buckled into my lap in His pyx, on my way to preside over a Communion service this past Sunday, I was trying to prepare some thoughts for the reflection after the Gospel.

Although I had just gone to Mass that morning, the readings and homily seemed a vague memory, as it had been pre-second cup of coffee. What was it that the priest said? What was the Gospel again? Something about the Body of Christ, probably…

What do I say to residents on Corpus Christi Sunday, whose holiness and devotion far exceeds my own? Well, since I am no expert, I thought, I must consult the saints!

Of course Our Lady came to mind. But then, along with that thought, a much older and much more vivid memory than that morning’s homily popped into my head. I recalled how my mom told me that my name, Maureen, means “little Mary.”

Never did I find my name among the turnstiles of souvenir pens or plaques with it’s meaning and origin, which so often populate gift shops and craft fairs. I used to search fruitlessly among the Marissas, Megans, Michelles, but no Maureens. My mom, however, told me she named me Maureen for a few reasons, one of which was because it meant “little Mary.”

This happy thought called to mind an image of the Visitation, as I imagined how Mary carried Christ inside her body.

As I prayed with this image, the Lord reminded me that this phenomenon is not unique to Our Lady, since we do this whenever we receive Christ’s Body and Blood. We all become “little Marys,” bringing Jesus to all of the corners of the world.

This reality remained with me throughout the day, long after the Communion service.

What a privilege it is to be a Christ-bearer like Our Lady. And how blessed we are to have such a model and guide as we seek to reveal Him in our daily lives! It is easy to think that we must feel His Presence or seek Him and take Him in in order to become a Christ-bearer. But by nature of our Baptism, the light of Christ shines from within, not from without, and is amplified and fortified each time we receive the Sacraments.

I often wait for Christ to come to me, and wait to love or do ministry until I feel prepared by His Grace, thinking myself to be too weak. But it is precisely then, when we are empty, when we are least full of ourselves, that we are disposed to carry the One who can do all things.

May we all be like Mary, carrying Christ to all around us. Every human person suffers and we get to be healers of divine love. It is easy to forget that Christ’s presence dwells with us long after we have consumed the Eucharist. We may feel His throne is vacant within us at times, as Mary surely felt the pain of his absence during Christ’s apostolic years, and most certainly at the Cross. Yet, she and so many before us trusted and hoped in His fidelity.

Let us be strengthened by the witness of the Saints who recognized their own powerlessness and at the same time the power of the presence of Christ in our souls. From one Christ-bearer to another, I pray that God blesses you each time you receive His Sacred Body and Blood, and that you receive a special gift of His Grace this Friday on the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart – the proof of His Love for you.

To those who feel alone…

By Maureen Smith

Every first Friday at my office there is a holy hour at the end of the day. I rarely get the opportunity to go to adoration, so this is a time of great grace for me when I am able to attend.

When I entered the chapel last Friday I saw something that made me feel sorrow for the Heart of Jesus. I was one of three people who came to adore him that afternoon. I didn’t feel any sort of judgment for those who could not make this prayer time, but the Lord revealed to me the loneliness of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament.

How many times have I rushed past the Chapel thinking of the next thing, or how many excuses have I made for not spending just a moment in prayer?

How many times have I felt the great pain of loneliness and have forgotten what the Lord felt in his Agony, his Passion and his Death?

“In order to be like You, who are always alone in the Blessed Sacrament, I shall love solitude and try to converse with You as much as possible.”

These are the words of Saint Margaret Mary Alocoque who understood well the sorrowful Heart of Jesus that knows abandonment and rejection.

But what are we to offer to the Lord? I feel I am unable to do anything without adding to the sorrows of Jesus, seeing my sinfulness and many weaknesses. But discouragement and any thoughts contrary to those that draw us to the Feet of Jesus are not of God. Hiding in shame and self-punishment are never what God asks, but rather repentence and returning to the Lord, even (and especially) if we come with our own sorrows and hurts.

This is what we are to offer Him, our own hearts that he desires to place within his heart–in order to heal and redeem the parts that we thought hopeless or unworthy of Him.

This kind of prayer, this being alone with the one who is alone is incredibly freeing, even if it is painful. It means acknowledging our lowliness, our inability to be “great” in any worldly sense, and admitting that all of our efforts in this life would be meaningless…except that He dwells in them and makes this life worth living through the redemption He offers.

We can only have hope in this life with him because without Him there would be no point to everything we do. Our faith tells us that not only is there hope and meaning to life, but even joy in suffering and death. In them we are reborn into Eternal Life with our God, the life in which we are invited to participate at Baptism, a reality which comes most alive in the union we call prayer.

When you feel alone, let it become an opportunity to open the door to the Heart of Christ rather than to dispair or discouragement. He is always alone with you.

Catechizing about Communion outside Classroom Walls

By Karee Santos

Catechizing doesn’t have to stay within classroom walls, as Cyndi Marlow, Coordinator of Children’s Faith Formation at St. Gabriel the Archangel Church, well knows. Kids learn better with strong parental involvement, and teaching kids often means teaching their parents, too. So Cyndi keeps the parents informed and up to date by occasionally emailing them articles and blogposts. After reading my blogpost on my fourth child’s First Communion, Cyndi decided she had to share the post with the parents whose kids were being prepared for First Holy Communion. Cyndi told me:

This arrived with perfect timing. … I work with families of children preparing and so many times I witness that they have put their focus on the dress, the party, the cake, the photographer, etc, even putting the focus on the children having a pageant like experience….I love this paragraph [of your post] “Because when you take away the pretty dress and the pretty hair, the veil, the crown, the gloves, and the festivities, what’s behind it all is Jesus. At First Communion, we’re not celebrating our children so much as we’re celebrating him — the God of Love who took flesh and blood in order to bring us eternal life. Our eyes and our hearts should be turned to him.” AMEN!!!

To everyone who works to prepare kids (and their parents!) for First Communion, feel free to share the original version of this post at my Can We Cana? blog, just like Cyndi did. And have a blessed Easter season!

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First Communion, Fourth Time Lucky

Scabbed heads, burned faces, and stomach viruses might not seem like a lucky start to my fourth child Marguerite’s First Communion day. Poor Marguerite tripped over the curb at school a few days before her First Communion and went flying up, up, up, and then down onto the pavement. Scabbed knees, scabbed hands, but the worst was a big scab on her forehead right by her hairline. Not the best for close-up shots.Then there was my husband’s burned face. He got scalded in the shower (horrible, I know — how did that happen?), and the entire left side of his face was covered by a reddish-purplish burn. To disguise it, we had to decide between a Phantom of the Opera style mask, a Middle Eastern veil, or Loreal True Match foundation. We went with the foundation. The whole unfortunate event reminded my husband of the time in high school that he let his brother Tony cut his hair.

Hair buzzer: “Skkkrrt.”
Tony: “Uh-oh.”

Left with a bald spot in the back of his head, my husband colored it in with a black magic marker so no one would notice. See the parallels? But I digress.

The wonders of modern make-up

Finally, there was the matter of my younger daughter Cecilia’s stomach virus. I’ll spare you the gory details, but they were — gory. None of the guests invited to the First Communion party was willing to set foot in the house plagued by such an unpleasant virus.

My mother-in-law mourned the absence of a full-scale shindig like we had for our other children’s First Communions. It doesn’t matter, I told my mother-in-law, Marguerite will have a party with Jesus. Because when you take away the pretty dress and the pretty hair, the veil, the crown, the gloves, and the festivities, what’s behind it all is Jesus. At First Communion, we’re not celebrating our children so much as we’re celebrating him — the God of Love who took flesh and blood in order to bring us eternal life. Our eyes and our hearts should be turned to him.

So we might not have been able to bring Marguerite to his altar without blemish or spot (Eph. 5:27). We might not have been able to bring ourselves that way either. But all the minor calamity took our minds off of what we were bringing Jesus and made us focus on what he was giving us — freely, undeservedly, despite our inner and outer flaws, and despite the masks we wore to cover them. We cannot possibly merit the gift of God sacrificing himself for us on the altar or on Calvary so many centuries ago. We can only receive it with humility and devotion. Realizing the enormity of God’s gift in the Eucharist is what made Marguerite’s First Communion the luckiest — the most blessed — of all.

In Each of Us, Christ: “Christ in you, the hope of Glory (Col. 1:27)”

By Pat Gohn

The truth about you, my dear Christian friend, is that by virtue of your baptism a remarkable thing occurred. The Lord of Life, the King of Heaven, the Almighty God has taken up residence where you might least expect. In you.

St. Paul identifies it over and over again in his letters, but he states it most distinctly when he writes that the mystery God has hidden for the ages has now been made manifest to his saints…“which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.” (Col 1:27.)

Indeed Christ came to earth for our redemption, but at the same time, Christ came to restore to us the hope of glory. That is, one day we will live with him, in the glory of the Trinity forever.

Remarkably, that reality started for you on earth the day you were baptized. You became “a new creation” in Christ (2 Cor 5:17).

Baptism is both your identity and your destiny. It tells you who you are, where you came from, and where you are going. It defines where “home” is and where you belong. It sets the course for the rest of your life – and eternity – if you embrace it.

But you don’t have to take my word for it. I make that claim standing on 2000 years of Christian Tradition found in the Catholic Church, and spelled out in no uncertain terms in the Scriptures and in the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC).

A few words about that identity are found in CCC 1265 and 1266:

Baptism not only purifies from all sins, but also makes the neophyte “a new creature,” an adopted son of God, who has become a “partaker of the divine nature,” [2 Cor 5:17; 2 Pet 1:4; cf. Gal 4:5-7], a member of Christ and co-heir with him,[Cf. 1 Cor 6:15; 12:27; Rom 8:17], and a temple of the Holy Spirit [Cf. 1 Cor 6:19].

The Most Holy Trinity gives the baptized sanctifying grace, the grace of justification:

– enabling them to believe in God, to hope in him, and to love him through the theological virtues;

– giving them the power to live and act under the prompting of the Holy Spirit through the gifts of the Holy Spirit;

– allowing them to grow in goodness through the moral virtues.  Thus the whole organism of the Christian’s supernatural life has its roots in Baptism.

Try to take this in: our sonship and daughtership in God is our truest identity – it means that we participate in the divine life of the Trinity, thanks to grace.

Many of us were baptized as infants. Naturally, in that case, we probably have no recollection of our baptism. Therefore some of the power of this truth may elude our consciousness. Not only that, in growing up, many of us missed out on strong faith formation. So for the sake of those who may not have fully embraced their own baptism, let’s pause and talk about what our baptism looks like from this perspective of Christ being “in” us.

It all began with God’s love for us (See Jn 3:16). Maybe you’ve heard that before, and while its still very true, perhaps it just sounds like a nice platitude you may have heard as a child. If so, listen up: it’s time to understand the depth of our baptism, and all it implies, as an adult.

God’s attachment to us in baptism is intentional, deep, and permanent, indeed, like a lover who brands his or her beloved’s name on their arm as a tattoo. So, too, our God has branded us. God placed his loving yet indelible mark on our souls, like a soul tattoo.

(You could also say that the scars on the Risen Lord’s hands, feet, and side, are the permanent, inerasable marks of his love for us. But I digress.)

CCC 1272 and 1274 continue:

Incorporated into Christ by Baptism, the person baptized is configured to Christ. Baptism seals the Christian with the indelible spiritual mark (character) of his belonging to Christ. No sin can erase this mark, even if sin prevents Baptism from bearing the fruits of salvation…

The Holy Spirit has marked us with the seal of the Lord (“Dominicus character”) “for the day of redemption.” [Eph 4:30; cf. 1:13-14; 2 Cor 1:21-22]. Baptism indeed is the seal of eternal life. The faithful Christian who has “kept the seal” until the end, remaining faithful to the demands of his Baptism, will be able to depart this life “marked with the sign of faith,”[see Roman Missal, Eucharistic Prayer I] with his baptismal faith, in expectation of the blessed vision of God – the consummation of faith – and in the hope of resurrection.

If you read those biblical references in the text above, you’d find St. Paul explaining that this seal of the Holy Spirit is the sign of our salvation… “the seal of eternal life.”

Baptism is the sacrament of faith. It is not something to be received passively since it brings changes with it. Its grace conforms us to Christ. That means there is an added dimension – a supernatural one! – to the soul and body and personality and DNA that makes us unique persons.

We have the potential to take the shape of Christ, or to imitate him more perfectly than if we did not have such a grace. Why? Because Christ’s very life is in us. The glory of God has taken up residence in us. Not only that, we strengthen and grow that living supernatural “Christ-in-us” whenever we receive the Eucharist: the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Jesus Christ. When we receive Jesus in the Eucharist, he recognizes and greets the Christ in us!

Are you getting the big picture? We. Were. Made. For. This.

We were made to be in this intimate, loving, and profound relationship with a God who sees Himself in us.

It’s somewhat like the joy a parent feels when they see a son or daughter who resembles them in eye color or has their freckles, or shares their love of music, or their taste for cheesecake. While the parent see themselves in their child, the child remains their own unique person. It’s a love thing.

So, we in turn, must live for this love. The Christ-in-us is an invitation to glory, both now, and in the future. This is our hope and our destiny. But we must choose to live the glory of our baptism, our true identity.

It is possible to waste our life by ignoring who we really are in Christ.

We must become, in full adult measure and stature, our truest selves. Our baptism invites us to become a saint, in the sense that a saint is someone who truly resembles Christ while maintaining his or her unique personhood and distinctive qualities.

The living out of our baptism, or some could call it “the task” of conversion, becomes not just a one-time “coming to” Christ, but a life-long on-going transformation of “becoming” Christ. Baptism gave us the grace of a head start. It sets us on the path of sanctity – which is another way of saying – this is a journey of a lifetime. That is why we have the Church, and the life of grace that we find there in the sacraments and in the Christian community.

CCC 1992:

[Baptism] conforms us to the righteousness of God, who makes us inwardly just by the power of his mercy. Its purpose is the glory of God and of Christ, and the gift of eternal life.

So now we have come full circle. For via baptism, Jesus sees, and now I can see, “Christ in you, the hope of glory.” (Col. 1:27.)

May we have the eyes to see in each of us: Christ.