No, Jane - the baker didn't make God...

Considering this post has nothing to do with the Tudor era (and that I'm not enamoured of Mary nor without sympathy for Jane), it may seem odd that I open with a cheeky remark that the brilliant but imprudent Jane Grey made regarding Eucharistic exposition at Mary's court. One cannot fault Jane for learning nor for integrity, even if one is far from Protestant in theology. Yet, even allowing for the influences in her life and the history of the time, Jane's remark can call to mind a problem that endures throughout church history. Even when doctrine 'says otherwise,' extremes in popular practise can give messages which can repel even those (assuredly of a different mindset than Jane's!) who could find particular ways of worship and devotion highly enriching otherwise. Jumping about a bit in Tudor history, I believe that (even if Newman was a bit far fetched centuries later in giving quite so Catholic an interpretation as he did of the 39 Articles)those who strongly held to the Real Presence may have understood the Host's not being intended for processions - if only because, long before and even into the early years of my own lifetime, too often the Sacrament was worshipped from afar but rarely received.

I occasionally lurk on a theology forum in which I once participated, and noticed a reference to Father Richard McBrien's seeing Eucharistic adoration as a sign of a lack of catechesis and of faulty theology. I am no authority on his work, but suddenly remembered a reference in Thomas Day's Why Catholics Can't Sing which had sparked one of my less pleasant recollections of the 1970s (when I was a snobbish, insufferable know-it-all, a quite typical condition for those of us whose passion was liturgy and music. That does not mean I still do not weep over what most liturgy ended up becoming in practise. It seemed a time of great promise for recovering the richness of theological emphases in worship.) Day mentions a study from Notre Dame (with which Fr McBrien had a connection, if I recall correctly) which focussed on the congregation's "celebrating itself." Were this in a full context of the anamnesis in the Eucharist (a new word in all of our vocabularies then, but one too often ignored for 'relevance' or 'unity'), indeed we could have celebrated our creation, deification, praise and thanksgiving - remembering the totality of Christ's Incarnation. Sadly, where previously the Eucharist (not in text, for the most part, but in practise) had emphasised Jesus' Passion alone (and our sinfulness and need for forgiveness), to exclusion of the resurrection, ascension, glorification of humanity and the like, too many of us (admittedly, not including myself) so feared that admission of sinfulness at all, or even of that Jesus could not have been resurrected without being dead first, turned the celebration into nothing beyond a fellowship meal.

With my own charism being that of teaching (adults only, please... otherwise neither student nor teacher will ever recover...), I indeed think that many misunderstandings could be eliminated, false impressions of Christian teachings avoided, and (especially for those of us who are intellectual by nature) prayer life greatly enriched by knowledge. Still, in the 1970s in particular (though this trend, in some form, is present throughout church history, and undoubtedly shall be until the parousia), whether those of us who loved the liturgy were seeking to recapture a sense of glory (I can't think of another way to express this, though it's an inadequate description), or to turn it into a combination of pub lunch and self esteem seminar (see - I'm still a cheeky little bitch under it all...), there was one major supposition that often blinded us to the larger scope. We tended to assume that anyone who disagreed with us just didn't have our knowledge.

Though I'm reflecting on overall considerations, not specifically on Father McBrien's statements, he certainly has a point in that Eucharistic adoration should not be separated from the Eucharist. (Slipping once more into cheeky mode - from where did the consecrated Host come in the first place? With trading stamps?) His reference to the 12th century strikes me in two ways. Though I'll save reflections on the writings of (for example) Bernard of Clairvaux for another day, there were various, magnificent treatments of Christian mysticism in that century which continue to be worth a look. Nonetheless, I must concede (even if I wish we ever could match the quality of some medieval religious music... blushing as I say that, because it too often was sung to pray for the priest as he offered Mass rather than based on liturgical texts per se) that, for all that the church was enriched by the Gregorian reforms, overall the Middle Ages were a time of superb devotion but deficiencies in liturgical practise that would make the post-Mediator Dei - cum-Gregory Dix crowd cringe.

For centuries afterwards, and all the more during and after the Counter-Reformation, Eucharistic adoration (which I heartily endorse, I must add) led to the tabernacle's becoming a reliquary. I love to pray in the presence of the Sacrament, and value Benediction, Corpus Christi processions, and the like. Yet devotion to the Sacrament (all the more when it was intensified as a slap in the face to the Reformers who either denied the Real Presence, defined it differently than did Rome, or disagreed with its being used for devotion outside of the Communion service) often led to partaking of Communion as practically seen as a bit greedy.

Certainly, the manner in which one will find one's prayer (and common worship) enriched varies greatly. Dropping my own 1970s "I don't mean those who aren't churchgoers are not possibly holier than I!" mode, from the earliest days Christians needed the breaking of bread and prayers mentioned in Acts - indeed, our recognition of the Trinity (as one example) and Christ's divine nature was expressed in common worship before it was formally defined - and I believe that common worship is essential in Christian life, and that Eucharistic adoration is not such a necessity. Yet I see where, for many of us (and perhaps far more who are not yet familiar with the practise), some form of Eucharistic adoration not only can be a wonderful practise but indicates more 'education' than lack of same.

In the spiritual life, let us admit that there 'is education and education.' (Thomas Aquinas is not considered any mental midget, yet his writings for Corpus Christi are magnificent.) Unusual though this is, it is possible for someone to have vast knowledge of theological writings and history without even being a believer! The great theologians were people of prayer - and, for all of their knowledge, and however such learning may have enriched their prayer and sanctity, the more they learnt, the more they realised that the divine is so far beyond our comprehension that the glimpse one catches makes one yearn all the more for the greater Love. Many great mystics (and lots of people in the pew, in any era, who may never have read a sentence of a theological work) have astonishing insight, and can express theological concepts with piercing strength, because the action of prayer has opened them to grace - they know their Beloved even if they have no extensive knowledge of doctrinal expositions. There are those who are illiterate, yet dedicated to prayer, who live the Sermon on the Mount with greater fervour than those of us who can turn out fine exegesis.

Education in the doctrine of the Eucharist, and how adoration is inseparable from the Mass, indeed is a project worth undertaking. :) If adoration becomes magical, or is undertaken with a gloomy sense of making reparation for sin (...usually the sins one never committed oneself...), or to appease the wrath of a God who needs no placating, indeed it can become distorted. That does not mean that, even if one is not consciously thinking of, let us say, anamnesis or the Incarnation, the mere fact of resting in the presence of God (...no, there isn't anyone of whom I've known who thinks that Christ's presence in the Eucharist means he is absent otherwise...), of offering the prayer with a consciousness of His physical presence, of effectively admitting to mystery and the divine immanence and transcendence implicitly, gives us the important sense of how little we can know but how much we can live in our love for Christ and His Church (by which I mean the lot of us, not hierarchy - though even they can be lovable now and then.)

I hesitate to write this only because those merely skimming through (a temptation when one rambles, as I do) can misinterpret my meaning, but I intend it with the deepest reverence. (For the record, the pyx or ciborium are fine with me... but the monstrance is the best example.) It is a magnificent paradox that the monstrance reminds us of the glory (beyond anything we can imagine) of the King of Kings (and divine transcendence), physical presence (a good reminder of the Incarnation, indeed), and the remarkable simplicity in that one is kneeling, bowing, genuflecting, or prostrate before... a piece of bread. I do not intend any slur here! The magnificence of the divine we can adore whilst realising, ever more, that the reality cannot be grasped totally - that (...old prayers about Jesus' being lonely in the tabernacle notwithstanding...) God does not need anything from us, and that the Eucharistic offering of oneself (praise and thanksgiving) is what we are honoured to have in our lives - and that divinity expresses itself in such simplicity! Two thousand years of Christianity ('do this in remembrance of me' gives me chills every time I hear the words), despite all of our disputes and doubts, were built on bread, water, and wine (and, of course, remembrance.)

I daresay that one may 'learn' more in a quiet hour before the Sacrament than in a theological library... even if I spend far more hours in the latter.

May the heart of Jesus, in the Most Blessed Sacrament, be praised, adored, and loved with grateful affection, at every moment, in all the tabernacles of the world, even unto the end of time. And may we never cease to "feed on Him in our hearts with praise and thanksgiving."

And, believe it or not, just this once - if this post makes me seem that I lack education, intelligence, or catechesis, I really don't care a fig. ;)