The Holy Father, Francis, holding up the Holy God of Israel.The Lord greets every pilgrim with silence when he enters an adoration chapel in a Catholic parish. Though no words are exchanged, be assured that the Incarnate Word gazes upon you. He who was, who is, and is to come rests on the altar in the monstrance, the Bread of Life, ready to hear and keep you company. There are so many things you want to shout at Him–mostly what’s wrong with the world, why are things crumbling?–but your jaw remains shut because He has already said everything by being the sole sound uttered from the Father.
Other travelers may accompany you in this holy space. Some kneel alongside you, some march right before the Lord and lay before Him as prostrate cruciform temples. Each of us knows that we have a load to bear and our crosses oftentimes feel more than ample. So we come and carry these with the Lord who has conquered the world in them. After all, His yoke is easy, the burden light. The hustle and bustle of the world passes away and dissolves into the stillness of the eternal.
After a while,you start to feel like an Apostle in the Garden of Gethsemane. The Lord’s words of “Would you not watch with me one hour?” become relevant in your drowsiness, aching, and exhaustion. You wonder what the significance is in this Sacrament. Why are we all gathering in a room looking at what at first glance may seem to be a bejeweled wafer? Who is this Jesus? What is He? Should I just go home? Why am I praying?
Then enter the words of St. John the Baptist that are echoed in the Mass: “Behold, the Lamb of God. Behold Him who takes away the sins of the world!” Those questions cease. For the Lamb, Himself food and drink asks us to dine on Him. And if we sup on Him, then we carry Him, and are as He is–eternal. This Sacrament is indeed Blessed for the Good Shepherd, in laying down his life for we sheep feeds us with Calvary’s Sacrifice.
Ghent altarpiece, reflecting attitudes of St. John 1:29 and Revelation 4:8, 5:13.What Love floods your heart at that moment. Not that you conjured sentimental feelings, but that by His piercing stare in the blank host, you see that His Body, broken for you eliminated the sins that troubled you. The ancient proclamation of “O happy fault that earned for us so great, so glorious a Redeemer!” rings throughout your soul, and you begin to realize that not all is lost. That you were created good. You are called to take the hand of the Lord and share Him. The load of the world could make you fall, but as Christ fell with his Holy Cross, so will you. His strength is made perfect in our weakness.
And if you come when the chapel is about to close for the evening, you see Christ as He ascended in the priest’s uplifting of the Sacrament in Benediction. He left us on earth in blessing, hands outstretched. He greets us now likewise. The Everlasting Arms are always open. The hymn of St. Thomas, then, is apt when we sing:
Down in adoration falling,
This great Sacrament we hail;
Over ancient forms of worship
Newer rites of grace prevail;
Faith will tell us Christ is present,
When our human senses fail.
To the everlasting Father,
And the Son who made us free,
And the Spirit, God proceeding
From them Each eternally,
Be salvation, honor, blessing,
Might and endless majesty.
Amen and amen. Come to the chapel. Join us wounded gathering our strength. Here, beads rustle in hand, pages turn while candles are burning, yet in the silence Immanuel eases our yearning, God with us.
The Rowdy Hobbit 