Words fail in writing about the Eucharist, but I can’t help myself. I want the Word above every other word, the Word made flesh, the Word that is before and behind every word and more profound than all the books that have ever been, or will ever be, written to gather dust on dusty shelves. As Eliot demonstrated in The Four Quartets, words are messy tools, but we have to work with what we’ve got.
Jesus is no tease. He gives his all to all. Before the Eucharist, the greatest theologian is as humbled and as beloved as the illiterate peasant. Thus, the Eucharist is more democratic than the Declaration of Independence and the Bill of Rights. Jesus is pure beauty, truth, goodness and compassion–and absolutely free for the asking. He is particularly kind to the poor, the ugly, the outcast–who in an instant are turned into princes and princesses. Since we are all subject to disease and death, is it not comforting to contemplate the Eucharist at any moment and be transformed?
Imperfect analogies may help. When we gaze upon a famous painting, we are not all art experts, but we are all able to soak up quite a bit of the emotional content. We don’t have to be musicologists to appreciate a Bach fugue or Handel’s Messiah. Experts may see more than we do, but we, in our innocence, may see other things in our awe. When I was a hormonally saturated teenager, I dreamed about being married. Little did I expect that a particular woman from Poland would be my fulfillment.
The Eucharist is always more than we expect. He is redeeming love for sinners. I cannot fix myself up to be beautiful or earn my own salvation. But I can ask Jesus to love me and he will not refuse. Without him I can do nothing. With him all is possible.
Ron Day
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