I first served at Mass as an extraordinary minister on the first Friday of this month at Saint William's 12:15 mass. It. Was. The. Most. Terrifying. Thing. I've. Ever. Done. Like...seriously. So scared. If you ask my homeschool friends some of them noticed how much I was trembling. But it was beautiful. I was able to give Christ to my friends in a way I never had before...in the truest sense of the way. And yes, that first day most of my thoughts consisted of "Lord...please do not let me drop you...please..." (it's true...).
However, it is also a crushingly humbling experience. I have served in Mass in many different ways. When I was about eleven I began lectoring and ushering at Mass, and when we moved to Texas I dropped both but after a year picked lectoring back up with a fervor I previously lacked. But this, was different. I expected it to give me the same sort of feeling inside as lectoring does–like I have successfully allowed the Holy Spirit to work through me to deliver Christ to people through his word–but it did not. Two days after my first time ministering, I served at my first Sunday Mass, and it was beautiful (and strangely much less scary than the daily Mass was...). I went through everything flawlessly and was so proud of myself (I think that it is okay to be proud of oneself for not messing up and causing a distraction during communion....right?). But I felt horrible...and terribly responsible. For you see, I was holding between my fingers the flesh of the one person who loved me more than anyone else and I was FEEDING it to another human being.
I never looked at communion quite the same way as I do now. I always knew it was the "Body of Christ" and that Christ died for me and that communion is celebrated in remembrance of the last supper to obey Jesus' command of "do this in memory of me." But...perhaps it is just a little different when you go into Mass after meditating deeply on the sorrowful mysteries of the rosary. Imagine someone you love. It can be anyone, really. Do you have a significant other? A close sibling or parent? A best friend? I'm sure you do. Imagine them, stripped of their clothes, lacerated to the point where their flesh can take no more. Covered in gashes to the point where...I can't even describe it. It hurts too hard to envision it much less put it to words. Close your eyes and imagine that. Parents, imagine your children that tortured. Husbands/wives, imagine your spouse like that. Now think of it this way, they have Christ inside of them. They reflect the love God has for you. Now picture yourself pulling away some of that wounded flesh and sticking it into the mouth of people you do not know except for that this person who loved you and whom you love...also loved them. And know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that that loved one, Jesus Christ, went through that agony so that you wouldn't have to and so that the person you are feeding wouldn't have to. That is what communion is for me now.
Before I went up to the alter to receive communion and to take it to give to the people in my section the past two times I ministered the Sacred Body I prayed this simple prayer "Thank you, Lord, for giving me the honor of giving your Son's body to my brothers and sisters...please forgive me for what I did to Him." and honestly...it's hard not to tremble when I say those words. But it's exciting too. Because I have the privilege to remind people that Christ loves them. I get to tell them "The Body of Christ" before I pass him over to them. I could go very deep into what they taught me, but I'm just going to stay on the surface of things and stay out of my deep ponderings on the subject. When I tell them that simple phrase "The Body of Christ" it really translates to "I love you." Because the body of our Lord Jesus Christ on the cross, His sacrifice to save us from eternal suffering...that is pure love. That is the truest love there is. So when I call to mind that image and say it to a person it means "you are loved" it means "Jesus loves you" and, since I am up there feeding you the flesh of the love of my life, it means "I love you."
And you know what? My primary responsibility is to protect my Lord. I constantly am on guard up there for someone who would hurt him. And yet...almost every other person up there breaks my heart every time I've ministered. And if it breaks my heart, it certainly hurts Christ. For when I am saying "the Body of Christ" when I am saying "I love you" for both me and Jesus...they interrupt. Do you know what they say while I am still saying "Body?" They cut me off and say "amen." They want it over with. They just want to get it done and go back home. I almost cried when I got home this past Sunday when I realized that they just wanted to get the best gift they'd ever been given and go without even bothering to know what it meant. It also makes me a bit angry. I just want to glare at them and say "Listen to me when I tell you I love you! Listen to me when I tell you that you are precious, that you are worth dying for, that you are worth everything to your creator...listen...and know you are loved by the most powerful being in existence...just listen...and know you are loved." But sadly, I cannot tell them that during communion...but I can, and will, pray that they learn to understand what they are interrupting.
No comments:
Post a Comment