I wish I could be profound on this feast...

Of all days, I should love to be able to offer profound reflections on the Feast of Corpus Christi, which is a great favourite of mine. Unfortunately, this isn't one of the days when I'm especially quick witted. Perhaps part of the difficulty is that I do not lack ideas on the subject - rather, I have too many to organise coherently. Before my own brief, disjointed reflection on the day, I should like to offer my readers a bit of solid food for thought and prayer.

• Homily of Pope Benedict - Corpus Christi 2006 - I doubt an English translation of the 2009 sermon will be available today


• Archbishop of Canterbury - I've found ++Rowan's writings on the Eucharist to be marvellous, but unfortunately could not find specific documents on-line during my sleepy search - so this link is to his Internet site


• BBC article related to Corpus Christi, which quotes texts for the feast composed by Saint Thomas Aquinas

We indeed are most fortunate today in that two of the greatest theologians of the 20th-21st centuries are Pope and Archbishop of Canterbury. Of course, I doubt that anyone, anywhere, could top what Thomas wrote for this feast, and highly recommend the prayers for reflection.

Today has been sort of a mini-retreat (even if I'm not able to focus well, and am so restless that either the prayer of quiet or ecstasy are unlikely possibilities. :) I did spend some time at the Eucharist, and saying the Office before the monstrance, this morning. I read passages from ++Rowan's book, "Resurrection," which deal with the Eucharist - each page would take about three weeks to fully appreciate. I then listened to the Vatican broadcast of the special Mass and procession. I crooned the Latin chants (resisting the desire to sing full voice, since someone in my building works nights and would have been asleep), repeated the Italian prayers, kept pulling myself back from the usual distraction (why, in a nation with the richness of musical heritage that Italy has, are not only the Sistine choir but any featured choirs for papal Masses so utterly dreadful?) When I cannot think well, or pray with attention, I do my best to 'go through the motions.'

I very much am one to encourage Eucharistic devotions, and love processions, incense, Exposition, and Benediction. Yet I offer special thanks that, where such devotions existed for centuries, today those of us who walk in procession or kneel before the monstrance have the privilege, rare till the 20th century, of receiving communion daily (or weekly.) To my knowledge, this never was prohibited - but it equally was not common practise. It is unfortunate that, for centuries (medieval, but especially counter-reformation), the Eucharist was the focus of devotion outside of the liturgy, but seldom the Bread of Life for the faithful.

I may be saddened by many recent developments in the Church - not in official treatment of worship, but in what is seen in many parishes. (I'm an idealist who thought liturgical reform, in my 1970s fervour, would mean marvellous common worship and music in parishes - and this though I knew most of it was pretty dreadful in the first place.) I've written on that topic in the past, and undoubtedly I shall again, but there are some changes for which I'm deeply grateful - and not only for the revision in Offices and lectionaries. Roman Catholic worship always had the Eucharist as central, but it was only in the 20th century that people were inclined to frequently receive communion, and that evening Masses made it possible for more of us to attend daily. In the Church of England, Communion is usually the main Sunday service today - and the sacrament also is received frequently. There is much to praise here - even if I think the worst liturgical innovation was singing hymns on the way to communion and receiving standing. (Bugnini and friends envisioned a glorious procession quite far from the reality.)

When Pope Benedict was conducting Benediction, and reciting the Divine Praises, I thought of two funny stories from the past. The first occurred in Italy. An elderly lady, seated near me and praying quite loudly, must not have been paying sufficient attention to the responses, because she was saying, for example, "benedetto e mio santo nome..." Of course, I've met Christians who praised themselves to the hilt, but this one was doing it unaware, even in 'her angels and her saints.'

Fr Martin, an elderly Benedictine, was to a point of being quite senile. He was so confused that he could no longer offer Mass publicly or hear confessions, and spent most of his time just puttering about. It was his anniversary, and two other monks thought that, if they stood one on each side of him, Fr Martin could manage Benediction. He did quite well through most of the ceremony, but, when it was time for the Divine Praises, he got that look he always had when he'd suddenly passed into another dimension, and began to sing "Sweet Violets."

In a move from tradition, I shall move from the ridiculous to the sublime for a moment. Earlier in this post, I mentioned Archbishop Rowan Williams' "Resurrection," a treasure of a book I cannot recommend too highly. His writings on the Eucharist, brief though they are by comparison with the total text of the book, are brilliant - and too extensive in scope for isolating a few lines as excerpts. However, since I often refer to wishing for a life that is 'sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving,' I hope quoting this section in isolation does not deprive it of impact.

Quotation: "..The Christian Eucharist provides a central interpretative model for (where the effective significance of material things is changed.) Our food and drink is given into the hands of Jesus so that we become his guests and receive our life from him. The elements are shifted from one context of meaning to another, from being our possession to being gifts given and received back (...the moment of relinquishing what is ours is crucial in the Eucharistic process.) But this transaction does not occur exclusively in the Eucharist - and indeed its 'occurrence' in the Eucharist in isolation from its occurrence in the Christian community's life is...a gross offence against the true significance of the sacrament. It occurs whenever we make the essential transition from seeing the material world as possession to seeing it as gift: as God's gift to us, and as, potentially, a gift to be given and received between human beings.

...The Eucharist, and every 'eucharistic' activity in which the meaning of the material world is transformed from possession to gift, is a sign not only of restoration and peace...but of the ultimate Lordship in which this..is grounded. This is the sense in which the Eucharist is a sign of the end of all things, the consummation of Christ's Kingship; here is a part of the material world wholly and unequivocally given over to the significant being of Christ, embodying his culminating gift on the cross.. The Eucharist demonstrates that material reality can become charged with Jesus' life, and so proclaims hope for the whole world of matter...The matter of the Eucharist, carrying the presence of the Risen Jesus, can only be a sign of life, of triumph over the death of exclusion and isolation.. " - His Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury

I may think and write of mainly liturgical prayer, but it occurs to me that the passage above also places the role of petition and intercession into focus. It can be argued (...and many philosophers and theologians, theist or not, are so engaged...) that intercessory prayer is unnecessary - whether because the Creator knows our needs or does not need our reminders to act in the world, and so on till ages unending. Yet prayers in petition acknowledge that all of the material things (ourselves included) are not "possession, but gift." Perhaps our merely asking acknowledges them as such.