The Work of Our Hands: The Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ
Hi, folks.
Sorry for yet another late posting (it's Friday, 6 PM). I hope the draft that appears below proves worth the wait.
If you appreciate the connections between daily work and the Sacraments of the Church, I think you'll find this homily helpful. If in fact you do, return the favor and let me know how it might be improved between now and my 4 PM Mass tomorrow.
I'm particularly interested in knowing if 1) Is it too long? and 2) Does the lengthy quote from Teihard de Chardin "work?"
Post a comment or e-mail me at jms48@fuse.net.
Thanks for your interest.
JMS
___________________
Homily for the Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ
The Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ.
What’s this feast mean to you?
For most Catholics, it means “going to Mass.”
It means receiving “Holy Communion.”
It also means leaving the busy world behind
and “getting in touch” with the Lord.
But, even more, it means “getting to touch”
the very Body and Blood of Christ
in the Holy Sacrament of the Eucharist.
To our natural eyes, those agricultural products
may still look like bread and wine,
but, through the eyes of faith and the power of the Holy Spirit,
we actually get to see, touch, partake and experience Christ…
not just the spirit of Christ, but the entirety of Christ:
his Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity.
This is what the Sacrament means to those who practice
the ancient faith of the Catholic Church.
And, for most of us,
it takes a lifetime to truly appreciate the depth of meaning
contained within this Sacrament.
But I’m going to take a different approach today.
Instead of focusing on what the Eucharist means,
I want us to focus on what does it do?
What effect does the Sacrament actually have us?
What difference does it make to the world around us?
So, let’s get to it.
First, off, let me say that
we won’t find the answer inside this church.
The answer to what effect the Mass has on us
and the world in which we live
is found outside the church.
And that’s because the worship and honor paid to God inside a church
starts out
long before the pipe organ cranks up
and the opening hymn is sung.
If there is one thing that I hope my preaching over the years
here at St. Al’s
has helped you all to understand
is this:
The honor and worship paid to God
begins in the liturgy of human life,
the prayer of worship begins when men and women
work to produce the bread and wine for the Eucharist—
from planting to harvesting to baking and delivering the agricultural products
to the doors of the church for the celebration of the Mass.
Did you know, by the way, that St. Benedict,
once told his monks:
“Regard all the tools in the monastery workshop
as you would the sacred vessels of the altar.”
What I’m saying here is
there’s a strong connection between
the work of God
and the work of human hands.
That’s why it’s so important that,
when you step into church
you bring with you the tedium of the office cubicle,
and you feel the ache in your muscles from job site,
and the sting of the sun on your skin….
You bring this with you into church,
along with snatches of conversations from the lunch room,
and memories of the games you played while babysitting for the grandkids,
or that argument two days ago with your teenager about cutting the grass.
We bring these experiences with us to Mass,
these aspects of daily work and labor
are part of the offerings we present at the altar.
I’m talking about world where we sweat
and put in our time
and punch the clock
and do fill out our reports
and try to keep the boss and the customers happy
all at the same time.
This offering of our labor is as much a part of the Mass
as the hymns and the prayers and the incense.
Because, you see,
bread and wine are not the only things being transformed
into the Body and Blood of Christ.
We too are being transformed into the Body of Christ.
That’s part of the effect of the powerful prayer we offer to God.
At this Mass,
we are being sanctified.
As is the work of our hands.
As is the world in which we live.
Let me read you something that a Jesuit theologian,
Teihard de Chardin
wrote one morning back in 1917.
At the time he wrote this,
Fr. Chardin was a chaplain in the French army
and on this particular morning, camped out with the troops,
he had no bread or wine with which to offer Mass.
So he climbed a hill and prayed a unique kind of Mass.
Not a Mass on an Altar of Stone,
but what he called a “Mass on the Altar of the World.”
His words are poetic. And powerful:
Over there, on the horizon, the sun has just touched with light
the outmost fringe of the eastern sky.
Once again, beneath this moving sheet of fire,
the living surface of the earth wakes and trembles.
[I have no bread to offer,]
but I will place on [the golden plate], O God,
mystic presence of all those whom the light is now awakening.
I call before me the vast anonymous army of living humanity;
those who embark on their way to office, laboratory and factory
Once upon a time men took into your temple the first fruits of their harvests,
the sheep of their flocks.
But the offering you really want, the offering you mysteriously need…
is nothing less than the world itself….
Receive, O Lord, [the work of our hands[,
this all-embracing host which your whole creation
offers you at this dawn of a new day.
What’s this mean?
It means the Mass is about more than Sunday.
It means that the Sacrament of the Eucharist sanctifies our labor;
it transforms the drudgery of the day
and the work of our hands
into an offering to God.
Somehow, through our measly human efforts,
God sanctifies the world to Himself.
In other words,
if ordinary bread and wine can become a sacrament of Christ,
might the work that you do—day in and day out—
become a type of “secret sacrament?”…
a way to help God transform the world
and save it from the destructive power of evil?
(I’m not the only “priest” here, by the way.
Sometimes people ask me if I’m the only priest at St. Al’s.
And I tell them, no.
There are over 1,300 households in this parish,
that makes over 2,600 priests here at St. Al’s.
On the day of your baptism, you were all anointed with holy oil
and that means you share in the priestly work of Christ.
I offer the sacrifice of the Mass on Sunday.
But you offer the sacrifice of your work, labor and love everyday of the week.)
On, come on, Father! you say,
All I do is type reports,
call on customers
make out pay roll…that’s not “holy stuff.”
Not only that,
there’s a kid over there who takes orders
at the drive-up window
at MacDonald’s.
How’s that going to factor into the salvation of the world?
Well, I’m not sure.
But I think St. Benedict was on to something when he said,
“Handle the tools in the monastery workshop
with the same reverence you handle the chalice at Mass.”
Think of it this way:
If you work in an office,
the wood of your desk is the wood of your cross.
If you work in construction,
the strength in your arms
is the power of your convictions.
If you work in child care,
the face you show the children
reveals the love of Mary our mother.
If you are a nurse,
the healing you administer
is the same power that Jesus used
to cure the leper.
If you work in a bank
or balance books
or handle money
or work for the government,
your patron is Matthew.
(His specialty was revenue,
as in tax revenue.
And he had no trouble recognizing the Lord
as he stood at a counter and waited on customers
on a weekday afternoon.)
If you like to sew or embroider or crochet,
I suggest you read the Book of Acts
and discover how the garments that Tabitha
designed and stitched not only impressed St. Peter,
but the memory of her skill and devotion
continue to give glory to God even down to our own day.
If you work at MacDonald’s
and your arm gets tired of handing sacks of food
through the drive-up hour after hour after hour.
Keep in mind that Jesus fed crowds of people as well.
And you know what?
He got tired while doing it.
And one day he told his disciples that soon, someday soon,
people would realize that it’s not regular bread we need to feed our hunger.
Our real hunger is for God.
And nothing less than the Sacrament of the Body and Blood of Christ
is going to address that hunger.
Which, of course, is why we’re all here today.
And it’s also why, when we leave,
Christ expects us to do something.
He expects us to use…
and continue to use
the work of our hands
to help Him accomplish
the work of His love.
Sorry for yet another late posting (it's Friday, 6 PM). I hope the draft that appears below proves worth the wait.
If you appreciate the connections between daily work and the Sacraments of the Church, I think you'll find this homily helpful. If in fact you do, return the favor and let me know how it might be improved between now and my 4 PM Mass tomorrow.
I'm particularly interested in knowing if 1) Is it too long? and 2) Does the lengthy quote from Teihard de Chardin "work?"
Post a comment or e-mail me at jms48@fuse.net.
Thanks for your interest.
JMS
___________________
Homily for the Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ
The Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ.
What’s this feast mean to you?
For most Catholics, it means “going to Mass.”
It means receiving “Holy Communion.”
It also means leaving the busy world behind
and “getting in touch” with the Lord.
But, even more, it means “getting to touch”
the very Body and Blood of Christ
in the Holy Sacrament of the Eucharist.
To our natural eyes, those agricultural products
may still look like bread and wine,
but, through the eyes of faith and the power of the Holy Spirit,
we actually get to see, touch, partake and experience Christ…
not just the spirit of Christ, but the entirety of Christ:
his Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity.
This is what the Sacrament means to those who practice
the ancient faith of the Catholic Church.
And, for most of us,
it takes a lifetime to truly appreciate the depth of meaning
contained within this Sacrament.
But I’m going to take a different approach today.
Instead of focusing on what the Eucharist means,
I want us to focus on what does it do?
What effect does the Sacrament actually have us?
What difference does it make to the world around us?
So, let’s get to it.
First, off, let me say that
we won’t find the answer inside this church.
The answer to what effect the Mass has on us
and the world in which we live
is found outside the church.
And that’s because the worship and honor paid to God inside a church
starts out
long before the pipe organ cranks up
and the opening hymn is sung.
If there is one thing that I hope my preaching over the years
here at St. Al’s
has helped you all to understand
is this:
The honor and worship paid to God
begins in the liturgy of human life,
the prayer of worship begins when men and women
work to produce the bread and wine for the Eucharist—
from planting to harvesting to baking and delivering the agricultural products
to the doors of the church for the celebration of the Mass.
Did you know, by the way, that St. Benedict,
once told his monks:
“Regard all the tools in the monastery workshop
as you would the sacred vessels of the altar.”
What I’m saying here is
there’s a strong connection between
the work of God
and the work of human hands.
That’s why it’s so important that,
when you step into church
you bring with you the tedium of the office cubicle,
and you feel the ache in your muscles from job site,
and the sting of the sun on your skin….
You bring this with you into church,
along with snatches of conversations from the lunch room,
and memories of the games you played while babysitting for the grandkids,
or that argument two days ago with your teenager about cutting the grass.
We bring these experiences with us to Mass,
these aspects of daily work and labor
are part of the offerings we present at the altar.
I’m talking about world where we sweat
and put in our time
and punch the clock
and do fill out our reports
and try to keep the boss and the customers happy
all at the same time.
This offering of our labor is as much a part of the Mass
as the hymns and the prayers and the incense.
Because, you see,
bread and wine are not the only things being transformed
into the Body and Blood of Christ.
We too are being transformed into the Body of Christ.
That’s part of the effect of the powerful prayer we offer to God.
At this Mass,
we are being sanctified.
As is the work of our hands.
As is the world in which we live.
Let me read you something that a Jesuit theologian,
Teihard de Chardin
wrote one morning back in 1917.
At the time he wrote this,
Fr. Chardin was a chaplain in the French army
and on this particular morning, camped out with the troops,
he had no bread or wine with which to offer Mass.
So he climbed a hill and prayed a unique kind of Mass.
Not a Mass on an Altar of Stone,
but what he called a “Mass on the Altar of the World.”
His words are poetic. And powerful:
Over there, on the horizon, the sun has just touched with light
the outmost fringe of the eastern sky.
Once again, beneath this moving sheet of fire,
the living surface of the earth wakes and trembles.
[I have no bread to offer,]
but I will place on [the golden plate], O God,
mystic presence of all those whom the light is now awakening.
I call before me the vast anonymous army of living humanity;
those who embark on their way to office, laboratory and factory
Once upon a time men took into your temple the first fruits of their harvests,
the sheep of their flocks.
But the offering you really want, the offering you mysteriously need…
is nothing less than the world itself….
Receive, O Lord, [the work of our hands[,
this all-embracing host which your whole creation
offers you at this dawn of a new day.
What’s this mean?
It means the Mass is about more than Sunday.
It means that the Sacrament of the Eucharist sanctifies our labor;
it transforms the drudgery of the day
and the work of our hands
into an offering to God.
Somehow, through our measly human efforts,
God sanctifies the world to Himself.
In other words,
if ordinary bread and wine can become a sacrament of Christ,
might the work that you do—day in and day out—
become a type of “secret sacrament?”…
a way to help God transform the world
and save it from the destructive power of evil?
(I’m not the only “priest” here, by the way.
Sometimes people ask me if I’m the only priest at St. Al’s.
And I tell them, no.
There are over 1,300 households in this parish,
that makes over 2,600 priests here at St. Al’s.
On the day of your baptism, you were all anointed with holy oil
and that means you share in the priestly work of Christ.
I offer the sacrifice of the Mass on Sunday.
But you offer the sacrifice of your work, labor and love everyday of the week.)
On, come on, Father! you say,
All I do is type reports,
call on customers
make out pay roll…that’s not “holy stuff.”
Not only that,
there’s a kid over there who takes orders
at the drive-up window
at MacDonald’s.
How’s that going to factor into the salvation of the world?
Well, I’m not sure.
But I think St. Benedict was on to something when he said,
“Handle the tools in the monastery workshop
with the same reverence you handle the chalice at Mass.”
Think of it this way:
If you work in an office,
the wood of your desk is the wood of your cross.
If you work in construction,
the strength in your arms
is the power of your convictions.
If you work in child care,
the face you show the children
reveals the love of Mary our mother.
If you are a nurse,
the healing you administer
is the same power that Jesus used
to cure the leper.
If you work in a bank
or balance books
or handle money
or work for the government,
your patron is Matthew.
(His specialty was revenue,
as in tax revenue.
And he had no trouble recognizing the Lord
as he stood at a counter and waited on customers
on a weekday afternoon.)
If you like to sew or embroider or crochet,
I suggest you read the Book of Acts
and discover how the garments that Tabitha
designed and stitched not only impressed St. Peter,
but the memory of her skill and devotion
continue to give glory to God even down to our own day.
If you work at MacDonald’s
and your arm gets tired of handing sacks of food
through the drive-up hour after hour after hour.
Keep in mind that Jesus fed crowds of people as well.
And you know what?
He got tired while doing it.
And one day he told his disciples that soon, someday soon,
people would realize that it’s not regular bread we need to feed our hunger.
Our real hunger is for God.
And nothing less than the Sacrament of the Body and Blood of Christ
is going to address that hunger.
Which, of course, is why we’re all here today.
And it’s also why, when we leave,
Christ expects us to do something.
He expects us to use…
and continue to use
the work of our hands
to help Him accomplish
the work of His love.
posted by BlueCollarPreacher at 6:04 PM
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