Sometimes, I feel like I don’t fit in—to my adopted state of New Jersey, to my neighborhood, heck even to my family, which is three males plus me. This is why I am thankful for the Eucharist and for the Feast of Corpus Christi that celebrates it. (Pictured here is the Corpus Christi procession of parishioners at Holy Cross Croy, in the Archdiocese of Glasgow, Scotland.)
Let’s consider what God did. He loves each and every one of us with such effusion that He sent his only Son to Earth so that we might have the possibility of Heaven, the place where all of us will always feel we fit, united as we will be for eternity with our creator. His Son suffered and died an unjust and tortuous death to free us from our sins. And before His Son died, He instituted the Eucharist so that each of us might have a foretaste of Heaven every day of our lives.
My parish will celebrate the Feast of Corpus Christi with great elaboration on Sunday. We will have an outdoor procession with the Blessed Sacrament, followed by a Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. Among the sounds of bells and the wafting of incense at each of four outdoor altars that represent the four corners of the earth, we will sing medieval chants composed by St. Thomas of Aquinas.
For most of its history, the Church did not celebrate this Feast. The day, officially known as the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, first was celebrated in the 13th century, thanks to the efforts of St. Juliana, an Augustinian nun from Belgium and a contemporary of St. Thomas.
One purpose of this feast day is to remind ourselves of what the Eucharist is—Christ Himself, body, blood, soul, and divinity. The feast also brings that knowledge to the outside world. Our parish sits in the heart of our small town, and many drivers and pedestrians will see us processing with the Blessed Sacrament around the parish property.
God gave us the Eucharist so that we might become the Body of Christ. This means when we leave the walls of our churches, we become the face of Christ to those we encounter. It also means we are better able to see the face of Christ in our neighbors.
God underlined this point for me last month, when our oldest son was confirmed on the Feast of Pentecost. Before the Mass we hosted a simple breakfast reception for friends and neighbors on our enclosed front porch. Our next-door neighbors, Roger and Fayga, Orthodox Jews and retired public school teachers, loaned us tables and chairs, as well as two tablecloths Fayga had sewn herself. They attended, along with about 20 other people. My family rushed from the reception to Mass. We didn’t return home until hours later, after the Mass and a luncheon reception for family members at a nearby hotel. We discovered that while we were gone, Fayga had taken it upon herself to clean up from the breakfast reception.
The Feast of Corpus Christi is a powerful reminder for us Catholics to share our faith with the world and to understand that the Eucharist will help us discover the face of Christ in unexpected places.