Homily for 5 May 2019

5 May 2019

3^rd Sunday of Easter (First Communions)

It’s a very special day here at Saint Clare—our 2^nd Graders are about to receive Communion for the first time.  And throughout their lives they’ll receive Communion something like 3,500 more times (if they go every Sunday).  If they go to daily Mass too, it would be something like 20,000 times.  Either way, it’s a lot!  So, for our 2^nd Graders, today is the start of a new habit; it’s the start of a new way to experience the Mass and God.

But, at the same time, for them and for us, Communion is something we already know about; it’s something we already experience—even outside of Church.  And that’s because “communion” isn’t so much a “thing” that we hold in our hands; instead, it’s an experience—in particular, an experience of life and fellowship.  After all, the ideas of “communion” and “community” are practically the same.

For instance, when we Catholics talk about our relationship to the pope, we say that we’re “in communion with the pope.”  In other words, we share the same faith, we see him as both a brother and friend in Christ, and he and we live according to the same set of standards and practices.  We’re “in communion with” the pope.

And—even though we don’t usually talk this way—we could say the same thing about our circle of friends, or our family, or politicians we agree with, or with fellow Catholics around the world and those sitting in the pews next to us.  You and your friends are a “communion”; you share life, you share the same passions and interests, you journey together.  You are a “communion,” a “community.”  The same with your family; you share traditions, you share life, your lives are intertwined with each other.  Your family is a “communion,” a “community.

And, of course, the Catholic Church is a “communion”; it’s a “community” which shares common beliefs and practices, which lives according to a basic standard of conduct.  The Church is a “communion” held together by the working of the Holy Spirit, the Spirit given to each of us just the same at baptism.

And last, but not least, we can talk of God himself as a “communion.”  The Holy Trinity—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—is a community, a “communion” of absolute love and perfect friendship and adoration. 

So, even before our 2^nd Graders receive Communion for the first time today, they’ve been living communion already with their friends and family, with Church and with God.  But today, they and we take another deeper step into Communion.  We take a deeper step into the vision God has for us and all humanity; a vision of real friendship and love, not only with each other, but with God as well.  And that’s a communion we (hopefully) step more deeply into every time we receive Communion.  And I say “hopefully” because, you know, we can receive Communion without really receiving Communion. 

When you think about it, that’s kind of an interesting idea: to “receive” Communion.  Now, obviously, we take the Host and we put it in our mouth and chew.  We take the Cup and we swallow a bit of the Precious Blood.  We certainly receive Communion into our bodies.  But there’s also receiving Communion in our heart and mind.  Remember that the Eucharist is, yes, the Body and Blood of Jesus.  But it’s also the Soul and Divinity of Jesus.  The Eucharist is the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of our Lord.

So, to “receive” Communion means also to let Jesus’ soul and divinity mix with our soul and humanity.  If we eat and drink Communion, but then we don’t also “receive” the rest of what the Eucharist is into our life, we haven’t received Communion with Jesus as much as we could.  That’s why someone can receive Communion, and then five minutes later they have road rage trying to get out of the parking lot.  They ate and drank, but didn’t let Jesus “soak in.”  They haven’t entirely “received” Jesus’ invitation to Communion with him.

And I imagine most of us do that from time to time—not the road rage part, but the other part: we eat and drink, but we don’t always “receive” the invitation to deeper communion with God and others (or with ourselves).  Sometimes after receiving Communion myself, I’ll be sitting in the chair, thinking about what’s coming next (the closing and any announcements).  And then it hits me: “Whoa, slow down, take a moment.” 

In fact, that’s what that time of silence is all about after receiving Communion.  It’s a time to be “in the moment”, to reflect on what just happened.  The God of the Universe, the God of all creation comes to me and to you, and he invites each of us to be in communion with him; to share his divine life, and to let him share our human life.  To actually “receive” Communion is a profound act.  To say “thank you” and “yes” to God’s invitation takes a moment.  Or, it takes many moments, repeated throughout life.

And so, we receive Communion again and again and again.  Not just eating and drinking, but also soaking in and absorbing, being affected by our communion with God, by our shared life with God.

Now, at some point, the phrase “Jesus and me” came into Catholic life.  And whenever you hear it, it’s usually said as a negative.  And those who say it mean that the purpose of what we do at Mass—what we do during Communion especially—is supposed to be about building up the community of faith.  It’s not supposed to be about “Jesus and me;” it’s supposed to be about “Jesus and us,” in other words. 

The problem with that, however, is that if there isn’t any “Jesus and me” going on during Mass—that is, if there is no real communion happening between “Jesus and me”—then there is no “Jesus and us.”  There’s just “us.”  And that’s because of something the faithful have known since the first centuries of the Church; namely, that “the Eucharist makes the Church.”  The Eucharist makes the Church.  Without my personal communion with God, without your personal communion with God, without your neighbor’s personal communion with God, then there is no communion among “us”—there is no Church.

The Church is a communion—where the most basic commonality we share is our own personal communion with one and the same God.  My personal communion with God the Father makes me a son of God.  Your personal communion with God the Father makes you a son or daughter of God.  And we are, therefore, brothers and sisters in the one God.  We become the Church—because of our personal communion with the Lord.  The Eucharist makes the Church.  Without some “Jesus and me” going on during Communion, then there is no “Jesus and us.”  There’s just “us.”  And “we” alone don’t constitute a community of faith.

And so, to actually receive Communion is essentially to our life.  Without it we don’t exist.  Without communion, Jesus isn’t in the world.  Without real communion with God, the world becomes rather chaotic.  In our world, among other issues, there’s a “crisis of communion”—or lack of communion with God.  In the church, too (and you can put the parish in there), what is the root of many problems other than not being in real communion with God?                

Just think of all that God freely gives us—especially from the Holy Spirit: wisdom, understanding, counsel/guidance, fortitude, knowledge, piety, respect and awe of God.  Of course, then there are the fruits of those gifts: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. 

Where there’s lack of patience, where people are quick to judge, there’s lack of communion with God.  Where there is no love, no forgiveness, where there is mean-spiritedness, there’s lack of communion with God.  Where there’s no real peace or love, there’s lack of communion with God.  Without real communion with God, our life as Christians doesn’t really exist.  We simply eat and drink, we go through the motions, but we don’t “take it in;” we don’t “receive” Communion and all its good blessings.

Now, today, when our first communicants come up, you’ll notice something a little different.  They’re going to line up along the sanctuary steps, and I and the deacon will come to them.  And then, after “eating and drinking,” they’re going to kneel here on the steps.  We’re going to let them linger a bit here at the Altar of God, who invites them into communion with him—because communion shouldn’t be rushed.  And we’re going to ask God’s blessing upon them, that they truly receive him, and let him be their companion for life.

It's a special day for our 2^nd Graders.  But it’s also a special day for us, too (and every Sunday), because we’re also invited to receive Communion.  Maybe even for some of us, we’ll really be receiving Communion with God…for the first time.