O, the Greatness, the Generosity, the Mercy and the Love of our God

In today’s first reading, 1 Cor 11¨17-26, 33, St. Paul reminds us that what he received from the Lord Jesus he hands on to us, namely, “that the Lord Jesus, on the night he was handed over, took bread and, after he had given thanks, broke it and said, ‘This is my Body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ In the same way also the cup, after supper, saying, ‘This is the cup of the new covenant in my Blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.’ For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes.”

At every Eucharist, we remember what God has done for us on Calvary. We give thanks through Jesus Christ and we take and eat in obedience to His teaching that “the bread that  I shall give is my flesh, for the life of the world….Anyone who does eat my flesh and drink my blood has eternal life, and I shall raise that person on the last day. For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood lives in me and I live in that person.”

At every Mass the Holy Spirit changes the bread and wine into Jesus through the consecrated hands of the priest.  “It is the Lord,” each of us at Mass can say as we ponder the act of consecration and what happens on the altar when the words of Consecration are said. At that moment, God comes down from heaven to visit us in person, to share the fullness of His life with us and the gift of reconciliation with our God. In the Eucharist, God transforms us, purifies us, recreates us into the persons God designed us to be in His creation of us and in His molding of us in our mother’s womb! O, what a gift is Eucharist! O, what a gift is the Mass! O, the greatness and the generosity and the mercy and the love of our God!

Being re-created, purified, renewed: a martyrdom of sorts

My retreat was awesome, as retreats tend to be; awesome in God’s gentle urging of me to look deeply into me and to allow God to gaze deeply as well.  It opened, as most retreats open for me, God suggesting that I look at Ps. 139 where I am reminded that I am wonderfully made.  The thought came that, even in God’s ongoing creation of me, I am wonderfully made: He uses the good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly, the patient and impatient parts of me, the selfish and the unselfish, the vitriolic and the serene. He shapes and reshapes, molds and remolds.  Where is all of this coming from,  you ask? Well, on July  2, three days before going on retreat, I returned from three weeks vocation work in Trinidad, but my suitcase with everything in it that I needed for retreat went to Canada. The ticket agent tagged it with the wrong tag, I discovered when nothing showed up in Newark. Nothing showed up on the 3^rd or 4^th of July either, as promised. So I purchased some items I could not go without and borrowed clothes from someone who wears an extra large (my size is medium).  I get a few miles from the retreat center, stop at an oasis service station and decide that I am not going to look like a ragamuffin. So I purchased a couple of medium-size tee shirts. I return to NJ on the 12^th of July. Still no suitcase. Toronto, Canada wants proof that I travelled on July 2^nd! Customs will not release the luggage!  So the worst of me surfaces—the vitriolic part of me, a raging anger, patience turned ugly.  Where were the graces of a six-day retreat. I felt anything but holy, believe me. But, yes, I am wonderfully made.  The Lord reminded me, when I complained of how sinful I was, that the instruments He uses always need purification. “I needed to purify Peter in his denials, Thomas in his doubting, James and John in their search for privilege, all of the apostles in their fear of persecution, opposition and martyrdom….I purified them with the fire of imperfection, sinful inclinations, selfishness, pride, insecurity, and false ambitions. That is the fuel for  the decomposition—the “burning bush” that never is really  burned."  The purifying fire of God's love and forgiveness does not destroy, God reminded me. And, yes, He uses my sinfulness to reshape me, remold me, recreate me into His image. Hope never fades.