I went to Mass last Sunday knowing many people could not, and knowing it would probably be my last for a while. As I received the Eucharist I had tears in my eyes thinking of all of you who were already not receiving, and remembering all the times I have taken this moment for granted. For Catholics and many other traditional churches, Communion is more than a remembrance of Jesus’ last moments, it is a sacrament. A sacrament is an outward sign of an invisible divine reality. It is the moment where the divine comes to us in a way that we can actually grasp with our senses, it is not magic, it is an encounter with God in a very ordinary, yet extraordinary way. Now that Mass has officially been canceled all across the U.S. we are being asked to make a Spiritual Communion. “It’s not the same!” I’ve heard over and over from others, as well as, within my own heart. It’s true, it’s not the same. However, two thoughts have come to me during this time and have given me great consolation.
I have been participating in the Spiritual Exercises for Everyday Life that St. Ignatius created 500 years ago. Generally, I read a passage from the Bible and try to meditate on it for an hour. The passage I read this week was about the Centurion’s ill servant. It truly felt like providence that God chose this exact moment to read this story! If you’re not familiar with the story, it goes like this: A centurion had a servant who was near death. Not a Jew himself, but having a deep friendship with the Jews, he asked his Jewish friends to send a message to this Jesus guy and ask him to come to his house to cure his servant. As Jesus headed toward the house, he sent another message, “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my servant shall be healed.” (Matthew 8:8) Jesus is amazed at his faith, doesn’t enter his house and cures the servant. Jesus healed the servant from a distance!! Normally, when Jesus healed people, he touched them. He especially cured the “untouchables” like the lepers with his physical touch. However, in this story, Jesus does not use physical closeness. Every Mass, we repeat the words of the Centurion, yet, we then go on to physically receive Jesus under our roof. How blessed we have been indeed! Now we are being asked to trust that Jesus really can heal our souls from a distance, he is great enough and big enough to come to us spiritually, even as we long for Him physically.
The second consolation was in the letter from our pastor, he said, “we are experiencing a long Holy Saturday.” If you’ve never experienced the Liturgical seasons, it is a powerful way to feel the rhythm of the Church, to follow Jesus in his life and death experiences. I had never truly felt the Liturgical seasons until the year I spent in Honduras with Heart’s Home. Most weekdays, for example, we had beans and rice, but on Sundays and feast days, well, we feasted. Feasting seasons and fasting seasons felt distinctly different from each other. The Latin American Church does an amazing job of re-creating the events of Jesus’ life. There are mile long processions for Palm Sunday, live Stations of the Cross, and huge parties for favorite saints. From their simplicity, they use creative and extravagant ways to show their love for Jesus. My house with Heart’s Home had a small chapel which we were able to have an hour of adoration every day and we attended daily Mass at the parish. On Holy Saturday, out of habit, I entered our little chapel to pray. I literally gasped. The altar was completely bare, the tabernacle door was wide open, and the body of Christ (in the appearance of bread) was missing from the tabernacle. Within seconds, I remembered we had just mourned Jesus’ death the day before, and now we were experiencing the pain the apostles and Mary felt. Jesus’ body is gone, in the tomb. Death seems to have won. Holy Saturday is a day of absurdity. Nothing makes sense and we are deprived of being physically close to our Lord. Like Mary Magdalene we want to cry out, “they have taken away my Lord and I do not know where they have laid him.” (John 20:13). However, we are the lucky Christians who know the end to the story, who know that Mary Magdalene was actually speaking to the Lord! Maybe, in this time of pain and absurdity, we can delve deeper into the mystery of Holy Saturday, maybe we can try to recognize Jesus in different ways, and maybe we can never again take for granted how close Jesus is to us, always.