Eucharistic Union

If we really understand the Eucharist, if we really center our lives on Jesus’ Body and Blood, if we nourish our lives with the Bread of the Eucharist, it will be easy for us to see Christ in that hungry one next door, the one lying in the gutter, the alcoholic man we shun, our husband or our wife, or our restless child. For in them, we will recognize the distressing disguises of the poor: Jesus in our midst. ~ Blessed Teresa of Calcutta

My dad is not a very religious man but every once in awhile I catch a glimpse of such deep faith that I am moved. Today was one of those days. We were at a funeral of a man that we had known for decades. Mom and Dad used to square dance with him and his wife and all of us kids got to hang out. I am still good friends with the man’s son.

It is my understanding that my dad does not always take the Eucharist. I think it has something to do with feeling unworthy to receive the Host. Today though he remained standing when we arrived at the point in the mass where you proceed up the aisle. I could see he was scoping out which way might be easiest for him to maneuver. We filed up the aisle and I slid back into my seat first. I glanced up at my dad as he came down the aisle and I could see he was fighting back tears, trying desperately to contain them.

Now I might be reading more into this than is there but two things came to mind. In the Eucharist all believers are united—past and present. This man whose life we were celebrating, and my dad’s youngest brother who also recently died, are joined in mysterious ways to those of us who participate in the sacrament. I believe my dad comprehended this concept and that is why he chose to receive today. He was one with each of those men and he knew it on a profound level.

The other thought that ran through my mind was dad is like a cat on his eighth life. He knows that at some point he is going to meet this Christ figure and is not yet ready to do so. In consuming the Eucharist today, he is nourishing his life while recognizing the distressing disguise of his own poverty.

I love watching my dad in action and I know that as much as he did not really want to be at this funeral today to avoid the pain that is evident within his spirit, he did his social butterfly flittering and enjoyed the afternoon. His earthly life will come to an end one day and I think, despite his fears, he will be welcomed into the Kingdom with great joy. Not everyone understands the depth that a little white wafer holds, but I think this child of God does.

Peace,

Suzanne