Communion and tears

Life is life together

Photo by Nima Izadi on Unsplash

Let us rejoice and give thanks: we are not only made Christians, but made Christ. (Homily on John 21.8) - Saint Augustine of Hippo

In my short time living in Portugal, I am increasingly aware that this is a Catholic country. Although fewer than 20% of the population attends mass weekly, 80% of the population identifies as Catholic (the percentage is much lower among young adults). Participation in the rites and sacraments of the Church is still very much a part of life here: baptism, first communion, confirmation, marriage, and Christian burial remain important.

The ringing of church bells can be heard marking the time throughout the day, and major processions such as the Feast of Corpus Christi are broadcast on public speakers in the central squares of Lisbon. Local saints are celebrated with gusto, if not devotion: St. Anthony of Lisbon requires most of the month of June to be properly feted with music, dancing, and feasting. The winding streets of Madragoa, our neighborhood in Lisbon, are filled with people of all ages from evening to early morning during the Santos (Saints) Festival.

One could see this as simply the lingering vestiges of a dying Catholic culture. I prefer to view it as a continuing hunger for communion, a profound desire for connection and participation in the life of the world; indeed, in the very life of God. This longing may not be consciously explicated, but it is implicitly present. It is deeply communal and reverences our intrinsic belonging to one another and to the divine Source. It represents a kind of “ordinary” mysticism; by this I mean a recognition of, and immersion in, the mystery of Being as it unfolds in our everyday existence.

This communion, this connection, is celebrated with joy. It makes life meaningful and delightful. It is the foundation of our existential security, and everything else in life is subordinated to it. Life is life together, and relationship is valued above everything else. It is more important than work, or money, or even pleasure. It can encompass suffering, because that, too, is shared.

Life is communion and tears: both tears of joy and tears of sorrow.

This became strikingly apparent to me during the celebration of our neighbor Lourenço’s first communion, along with 65 of his 3^rd grade classmates. We gathered on a Saturday morning at the beautiful Basilica da Estrela. The new communicants were robed in alb and cincture, adorned with a simple wooden pectoral cross. They were vested as liturgical ministers, underscoring their significance as the focal persons of the rite.

The children processed into the church accompanied by one of their godparents, who held the child’s lighted baptismal candle. Since most of the children were baptized as infants, this means that their families held on to these candles for 8 years in anticipation of this moment. I was touched to see how Lourenço’s godfather kissed his forehead as he left him at his seat with his classmates. It is notable that the godparents occupied this role, not the parents. It is a subtle but telling reminder that the children are part of a larger community than their immediate family, and that the communion in which they participate is deep and broad; it encompasses the whole world.

The first reading was the story of the priest Eli’s devotion to Samuel, the boy entrusted to his care. Eli helped Samuel to recognize God’s voice and develop his relationship with God. Psalm 23 assured us of God’s love, and the second reading from the First Letter of John reminded us that our relationships with each other should reflect God’s love for us. The Gospel of John was the story of the feeding of the 5,000 – the miracle of community and communion based on reciprocal feeding. Life is shared life, and in Christ we share in the divine life.

This is the meaning of the sacrament of Holy Communion. God becomes human in Christ so that, united with Christ, we may share in the divine life. By God’s grace we are given the power to realize the dignity of our nature, which makes us one with all things in heaven and on earth. God nourishes us with his love, and we nourish each other in love. This is the mystery of the Holy Trinity, of the divine life that is itself a relationship of love poured out into the created world and drawing us together in the life of love.

The Sacrament of Holy Communion trains us to perceive the divine presence in all things; to see the energy of love animating all of life. The new communicants were being initiated into this mystery at a deeper level; to receive more fully and thankfully the gift of life as life together.

This suggests to me a recognition of the significance of the children coming to an age at which they can consciously recognize and affirm their dignity as bearers of the imago Dei. For them, this first communion is a momentous occasion. Some of the parents reported that their kids had trouble sleeping the night before, or refused breakfast. They were too excited and awe struck to eat or sleep; even a little fearful. It is no small thing to recognize the enormity of your dignity as a child of God, and the responsibility to love that dignity entails.

Communion and tears. That is what I experienced at the Basilica da Estrela as the children sang this Song of Thanksgiving after receiving the Blessed Sacrament:

Jesus, truly present here
I ask You for a little more faith and humility.
And so, that I may be worthy to share
With You the deepest miracle of love.

A miracle of love so infinite
In which You, my God, become
So small and so humble
To enter into me.

Miracle of love so infinite
In which You, my God, forget
Your glory and Your power
For my sake.

Today I come full of joy
To receive You in this Eucharist.
I thank You because You want me at Your altar;
Even though it is small, You come into my soul.

Thank You, Lord, for this communion.

The Mystery of the infinite Love that constitutes our life together – that is the “ordinary” mysticism of everyday life that we experience and, in those moments in which we are conscious of it, evokes our deepest gratitude.

Following mass, we gathered with Lourenço’s family and friends for a blessedly typical five-hour Portuguese lunch, where we continued to reciprocally feed on the infinite love that nourishes us.

Thank You, Lord, for this communion.