A little story about Real Presence

A long time ago in an Episcopal Diocese far far away a Bishop lead an Episcopal priest to a parish with the request that he get them back on track with the Book of Common Prayer and celebrating Holy Eucharist.

The priest tried and failed.  People got angry at the priest and his family.  They threw stuff like gossip and opinions at them.  Eucharist was not to become the center and the priest couldn't do what the Bishop wanted.

The Blessed Virgin Mary intervened and took the Episcopal priest and his family away and has taken care of them ever since.

As the years progressed a few more rectors attempted to lead the congregation but did not stay.

Still, when the moon is full and that old congregation awakens its' inner tumultuous past--the name of that priest, and perhaps even his family, now three times removed from the rectorship-- is whispered and even published as one of the  'aborted rectorships'
Why do they need to keep bringing it up?

It must have something to do with Eucharist.

Pope Benedict Eucharistic Adoration
photo from St. Anne's parish

It has to have something to do with Eucharist.


Moral of the story:  Real Presence--what are you doing with it?

Interested in a little more on Real Presence?

The best thing to do--is go and sit and kneel and stand and whatever you need to do--before the Blessed Sacrament.  And if you can't make a visit today--then do it in your heart...like right now.

Football Season

My lovely wife and I attended a high school football game this past Friday night.

Here is what I thought.

Stadiums are planned, contracted, politicized, and built. Turf is grown, mowed, fertilized, or maybe installed, and painted. Goal posts are set. Lights are replaced. Electricity and PA systems are installed. Plumbing and water and sewage is set. Landscaping and trees and flags are readied. Buses pull up--teams dressed in colors and equipment are unloaded. Special shoes and gear and helmets and pads. Bands unload--instruments and music and pit crews and uniforms are all readied. Bus drivers park and sit and wait. Cheerleaders practice their routines. Concession stands are stocked and selling. Parents and fans arrive and begin to take their seats.
All this on opening night-- and not just for the two schools I was watching.
And, weeks before the teams and bands and coaches and parents and families all put in thousands of collective hours and made thousands of different sacrifices and changes in schedules--and not just for the two schools I was watching.

Multiply the above by hundreds and hundreds. Then escalate it into the college and pro ranks....
Then add more money...

All this so--a ball can cross over a goal line?


If only we put as much energy into spending time with our God.

I enjoy the competition and I love the music. I'm not out to stop it.
I was just thinking--what if the approach to our relationship with God even hinted at the hours of preparation, stamina, discipline, and energy?

What would happen if we held band camps and football camps and spring trainings for our souls?
Days of confession and purifying and stretching and praying and receiving Holy Eucharist?

No.
satan wants us to just 'get' by and we fool ourselves thinking that an occasional Our Father and sitting in a pew for an hour is enough.

We put more work into getting that ball across the goal line--for a fleeting moment that really has nothing to do with our salvation.

I ought to conclude at this moment and not even get into the realm of sports in Catholic schools.
Actually there isn't any discussion since Jesus gets cut from the roster every year.

He's the first to go--making way for a brand of elite and entitled sports programs that are 'catholic' in name only--many of them dictating school and parish resources and agendas.


Right--I'm not going to discuss that.

Just Do It.

If a soul kneels to receive and there is no archbishop to see does it matter to God?

**Warning--rant ahead**

So an Archbishop in Scotland has told his 'flock' to stop kneeling for the reception of Holy Communion.

Give me a break.  Really?
If someone kneels--they are what?--drawing attention to themselves?  Maybe.  Or maybe they have an agenda?  Or maybe they just want to have a moment with Christ?
Does it really matter?

Haven't you ever been brought to your knees?
Hasn't it ever hit you what miracle you just received?
Not that it's every time--but occasionally doesn't it just knock you down?
----off your high horse?

What's the big deal if a person approaches God that way?

We've focused so much on the 'gathering of the assembly as the Body of Christ'--that we've lost the reason why we are gathering.
Maybe a little kneeling would help slow us down and not be concerned about the constraints.

Maybe more people who are confecting and distributing Eucharist ought to kneel.

I have heard the argument that standing in western culture is a sign of respect.  I've heard the argument that we are an "Easter" people standing in the midst of the Resurrected Christ present before us.  Yep, I've heard them--and I've stood.  I'm just saying a little kneeling when the Spirit so moves is not a bad thing.

What is the greater issue is that an Archbishop has decided that people must conform to his liturgical mandate.  Really?  Everything else must be going pretty well in his diocese for this to become the focus of the latest liturgical energy.

Now, this blog entry is on the heels of a rather disheartening experience of Eucharist an Episcopal church (remember Jesus in the plastic baggie) -but in all fairness I want to share the following.
One of my holdovers from my Episcopal priest days was the altar rail--There was something humbling about the whole action.
The priest and chalice bearer would distribute Holy Communion from behind the altar rail.  Contrary to popular belief it was still very efficient and you didn't feel like cattle being lead to milking.  And, if you don't want to kneel, then don't--it was never and issue.
One day I stood waiting for an elderly gentleman who was having difficulty kneeling down.  At first I grew impatient and thought "Why doesn't he just stand?"

My heart was opened as I watched him humbly kneel and hold out his worn arthritic hands to receive his savior.  He looked at the Host as I held it, "The Body of Christ."
"Amen" --his eyes welling with tears.