I am not worthy to receive you

It was the great convert and great cardinal, the blessed John Henry Newman, who remarked on how magnificent and secure he felt knowing that he lived and slept in a building that contained the sacrament, the body of Jesus Christ. It was especially poignant for him, as someone who had not been raised in the Roman Catholic Church, and had to search and sometimes fight his way into the eternal truths of the faith.

I was reminded of this, and of our clawing ingratitude, when a friend of mine drove me to a restaurant for lunch recently. On the way there, and on the way back, he took one hand off the wheel as he passed a Catholic church and made the sign of the cross. Because Jesus was inside. It wasn’t a church he attended, nor, truth be told, one where the style of worship or character of the priest was to his liking. Irrelevant. The Eucharist is what it is.

It’s a habit we should all form, and one of those glorious gestures that have been cast aside in the head-long rush to be like everyone else, not stand out, not appear too religious or — God forbid — too Catholic. But in a society where trans fats matter more than transubstantiation, it’s vital that we make it plain where we stand and what we believe.

It is Him in the wafer. Yes, of course it’s difficult to believe, but if miracles were easy and common they wouldn’t be miracles. It’s always amazed me that our evangelical brethren who believe in the literal truth of every word of Scripture refuse to believe that same Scripture when some of the most important words are there in front of them.

This is my body, this is my blood. He was direct and plain. Eat this, chew this, consume this. It is me. When some of His followers, Jews with a fierce, absolute resistance to non-kosher food, let alone human flesh and blood, said that this was too much for them, He didn’t rush forward with a, “No, no, I’m just being metaphorical, obviously I don’t mean it, it’s just symbolic.” No, He emphasized what He meant, and lost many devoted members of that earliest of churches.

Yet many modern Christians refuse to believe or obey Jesus, and many Catholics receive that most vital of sacrament without believing it, taking it for granted, in a state of mortal sin, in some perfunctory manner, as though it were no more important than a handshake or a birthday card. It’s not — it’s about eternal life, following rather than editing Christ, and taking part in the most pristine, shining act of wonder and grace allowed us.

Personally, I cannot understand why someone would not want to kneel when being given their Lord and why they would want to be handed the host rather than having a priest, the conduit for the great miracle, place it directly on their tongue, but however it is received, it is Him. Those Christians who argue that Jesus died once for us, and that this is an attempt to repeat the sacrifice, do not understand. First, we were told by Christ Himself to do this. Second, think about when you tell your wife, husband, child or parent that you love them. Does it mean that the love has just begun or that you didn’t love them before? Not at all. It’s part of the love continuum, and the Mass represents the seamless cloak of romance between God and His creatures.

It’s worth remembering this as the New Year speeds past its birth pangs, into the less glamourous, post-holiday realities of January and February. The year 2012 is going to be a difficult one for many if not most of us. A tough economy, foreign conflicts, an increasingly anti-Catholic popular culture and political establishment. His presence — real, real, real — is the permanent thing in the transitory world around us and is the perennial gift, the most precious one of all, given to all of us. Thank the Church, thank the priests, most of all thank God. Lack of gratitude is rude and blindness to truth tragic. Happy New Year. Even though, Lord, I am not worthy to receive you.