Who Is This?

Over lunch, a deacon friend recently recounted the story of his nephew's First Holy Communion.

After a period of great anticipation and excitement, the day had finally arrived. With family having traveled from near and far, this occasion had guided them to the local parish church that, through the years, had been witness to many sacramental moments. And with the Saturday evening vigil Mass about to begin, a visiting priest decided that this First Communion would be different. Different, that is, with respect to order. Rather than calling this anxious eight-year old forward so that he might be the first to receive Our Lord, the priest instead decided that this first communicant would receive last.

Having prayed the Eucharistic prayer, the time for distribution of Holy Communion had arrived. After the last adult had received, the priest called the child forward. As I was told, this call resulted in a clarifying moment not soon to be forgotten. For during the boy's ascent toward the altar, a penetrating silence enveloped the parishioners who would normally be rustling for the parish bulletin or car keys. But now with every eye focused upon the priest and first communicant, a great scene unfolded. With the priest holding the Host for all to see, he asked this question of the child:

"Who is this?"

And immediately a loud and firm response was given that echoed through the pews:

"That's Jesus."

Interesting response? Perhaps. But from my perspective, I have always felt that the faith of children inspires great awe. Generally unafraid to cut directly to the point and to say exactly what they mean, they often express the truth of a situation more often than we sophisticated adults. For clarification, may we turn to Matthew's Gospel (18:1-5):

"At the time the disciples approached Jesus and said, 'Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" He called a child over, placed it in their midst, and said, "Amen, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever receives one child such as this in my name receives me."

A couple of years ago, I had the privilege of serving Mass for a high-ranking archbishop. Immediately following the consecration, I could hear him quietly recite the Jesus Prayer:

"Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, have mercy on me, a sinner."

I was deeply moved by these words of faith and utter dependence. With the Lord now present in the Eucharistic Bread and Wine, what better words than these exist to describe one's faith that the Lord is truly present- and that we are lacking and in need of Him? 

In reflecting upon that moment, I have concluded that more often than we should, we adults find it difficult to accept the miracles that are very present in our lives. Through the years, I cannot tell you the number of people I have encountered who have pointedly told me that if I were able to "show them a miracle, then they would most certainly believe." Most often, my response is that they should look into the eyes of their spouse and children, and then into the eyes of their closest friends. What (or Who) has brought this about? And if even that does not convince them, I invite them to come and attend Mass. After all, what on earth is more miraculous than the Eucharist, where Jesus makes Himself fully present in the Host in order that He might give Himself to us?

But their response is: "I can't see Him."

And mine: "Really?"