Bishop Gerald Wiesner, O.M.I.

Dear Sisters and Brothers,

Of recent times the media is reminding us that we are living through a time of weakness in our Church. It needs to be said that sexual abuse of minors, especially by clergy and religious, is inexcusable. It must be admitted that wrong has been done and many persons have been seriously wounded, in many instances for life. It must also be admitted that in some instances, secrecy prevailed and the abuse was allowed to continue. This too is wrong.

Fault on the part of the Church needs to be acknowledged and serious effort needs to be made to ensure that the abuse does not continue and that opportunities for victims to find healing be provided. Without announcing peoples’ faults to the world there is need for the Church to be transparent and to cooperate with civil authorities in these matters.

Since 1992 the Canadian Bishops have made constant and serious effort to eliminate this problem and provide proper methods of healing and prevention.

In our diocese we have faithfully followed the directives and have a proper committee in place to deal with issues as they surface.

I am truly sorry for the pain that these matters have caused and, in many instances, the continuing pain many experience through constant reminders. It is at a time like this that we need to renew our faith in the Risen Lord who has conquered all evil, and to renew our prayerful support for one another.

Sincerely in our Lord,

Gerald Wiesner, O.M.I.
Bishop

Bishop’s Letter to Parliament Re: Bill C:384

Mr. Richard Harris
Member of Parliament
206 – 575 Quebec Street
Prince George, BC V2L 1W6

Dear Mr. Harris:

I am writing on behalf of the Roman Catholic Diocese of Prince George, which covers the territory from Fort St. John to and including the Queen Charlotte Islands. I wish to express our position regarding the proposed Bill C-384.

It would appear quite clear that legalizing euthanasia and assisted suicide legalizes the taking of the life of another person. The principles involved are the intrinsic value and sanctity of human life and the relational or interdependent quality of human life which imposes a sense of mutual responsibility. Although a legal distinction is made between euthanasia and assisted suicide, there is no ethical difference. The moral responsibility is the same whether the third party provides the pills or gives an injection.

Catholics believe that life is a gift of God’s love and goodness. We do not have absolute dominion over the gift of life; we are stewards, not owners of life. Consequently, the time and circumstances of our birth and death, and that of others, are not ours to choose. Death is an inevitable part of life and a transition to eternal life.

Euthanasia and assisted suicide have broad and grave consequences. The frail, poor, elderly and others who are vulnerable would be at the mercy of third parties who could exercise pressure on them to see an earlier death as an option. They could even feel compelled to ask for a premature death if it is available. This danger would only increase as health resources decrease.

The role of the physician and the patients’ trust in the physician would be undermined. Palliative care would be marginalized. If assisted suicide or euthanasia were permitted for the terminally ill on the basis of their suffering, their autonomy and their individual self-determination over life itself, how could it be denied to those who are depressed, infirm, frail or suffering for other reasons?

Legitimately euthanasia or assisted suicide, which allows one person to kill another, would diminish respect for human life. It would also erode the basic trust that human life will be protected – a trust that is essential to the functioning of any society.

Thank you, Mr. Harris, for giving attention to our concerns. Thank you for serving our people and country the way you do.

Sincerely yours,

Gerald Wiesner, O.M.I.
Bishop

GW:malj

June 2009

The following is from our bishop’s message at solemn vespers on June 18, 2009, the Feast of the Sacred Heart and the beginning of the Year of the Priest inaugurated by Pope Benedict XVI

We gather this evening to mark the beginning of the Year of the Priest. Our Holy Father planned this year as an opportunity for all to ponder once more with awe and gratitude the work of our Lord in instituting the priesthood and linking it so intimately with the Eucharist. It is a time for us to discover in a new way the importance of the priesthood and of every priest. In a particular way it is a time for us as priests to renew the consciousness of our identity, who we really are and who it is that we are called to be. It is also a time for us to reinvigorate the missionary zeal that flows from our intimacy with our Lord.

The Holy Father has selected as the title for the year, “The Faithfulness of Christ and the Faithfulness of the Priest”. In the letter to the Philippians (2:6-11) there is a clear picture of the faithfulness of Christ, a faithfulness on which we are to base our priesthood, a faithfulness that we are to try to exemplify in our priesthood. We see in this reading an invitation to have the same dispositions that Jesus showed and to try to make that present in the world today. Jesus emptied himself and it is in this self emptying that he reveals what God is like. He takes the form of a slave. It is in this that we see the form of our God who serves and it is this that we are invited to exemplify.

We are called to be priests who are faithful after the faithfulness or Christ; we have to identify our person with our ministry. In Jesus his person and his ministry coincide. So, too, our whole life is to be given to our ministry. Our vocation is our life, our life in our vocation. Speaking to priests, Father Karl Rahner, the great theologian of the last century, said that the candle on the candlestick that we are in the Church is to burn away with its own heat. This is what we are called to be and to try to reinforce this year.

As priests we need to remember that we make up one priestly people together with the laity. We are to promote the dignity and the role of the laity in the church’s mission. We need to listen to the laity and give brotherly consideration to the wishes of the laity, to acknowledge their experience and competence to share their mission and recognize the many and varied gifts of the laity. As the Holy Father said, we are not just to collaborate with the laity but be co-responsible with them for the mission of the church.

We are to be witnesses to the gospel. Pope Paul VI said that society responds more to witnessing than to teaching; and if it responds to teaching it is because the teachers also witness.  We have to ask ourselves, as priests, are we truly influenced by the Word of God? Do we really extend the Word of God by our being, by our actions, by who we are? Jesus called the Twelve in Mark’s gospel first of all to be his companions. As Scripture scholars remind us, and it is evident in the gospel, they had to be with Jesus for a rather lengthy period of time before he sent them out to preach. And so it is with us. We are called to be his companions; we are called to be with him in such a way that who we are reflects him to the world around us.

The Year of the Priest is not only a year for us to renew our faithfulness to Christ but it is also a time for all the Church to help priests respond to our call, for all of the faithful to help us renew and grow in our faithfulness to Christ. It is a year wherein faith communities are called to help priests respond to our call, to help us as priests to grow in our relationship, in our ministry, in order that we might have a greater zeal as we carry out the mission of Jesus.

The Year of the Priest is also a time for all of us to reflect with heartfelt gratitude on the immense gift that priests present not only for the Church but for the world. Here we think of priests, faithful to the Word, quietly presenting Christ’s words, Christ’s actions each day. I think of priests striving to be one with the Lord in their thoughts, their will, their sentiments and their style of life. I think of priests in their apostolic labors, their tireless and hidden service, their unusual charity, constantly at the disposition of God’s people and the message of Christ. I think of their faithful ministering of God’s life in the sacraments and especially in the Eucharist. We are being invited to ponder that reality and to help priests deepen all of that within their being. And for all of us as faithful people we are being called to cooperate with the priests in bringing about the mission of Jesus.

The Year of the Priest is a year for all of us in the faith community. In the words of Pope Benedict it is a year “meant to deepen the commitment of all priests to interior renewal for the sake of a more forceful and incisive witness to the gospel in today’s world.” That’s our job, that’s what is laid before us. We begin this year in that spirit, seeking the gift that it is and seeing the responsibility that is ours in making this year what it is intended to be. We also resolve to live it out in order that we might become more committed to the proclamation of the gospel so that God’s reign might prevail more faithfully in the world.

March 2009

The following is the introduction talk Bishop Gerald Wiesner gave at a Spiritual Development Day for Holy Spirit Roman Catholic Schools Association in Lethbridge, Alberta on March 16, 2009. The theme of the day was “Living our Baptismal Call”.

An integral part of our being as Catholic Christians is a consciousness of our baptismal call and the living out of this in our everyday lives. Our baptismal call, the living out of this call is a fundamental part of who we are. It is not something added on to us, it is not a garment we can put on and take off at random, it is quite simply who we are. Before reflecting more specifically on the Living of our Baptismal Call I would like to spend some time pondering aspects of our being, basic realities of who we are as human beings, created by God, and how these aspects permeate our entire being.

Ten “words” that make us whole

History has never been one of my fortes and I am not particularly fond of it, but recently I became aware of the Code of Hammurabi, one of the most famous of all early law codes, which both stabilized and promulgated the standards by which the king intended to order society. Until Hammurabi, law was essentially the whim of the king; laws could be created by him at any moment.

Hammurabi, king of Babylon, made a giant leap forward in the history of public jurisprudence. He bound himself and the citizens to 272 statutes, which he had inscribed on a pillar more than 14 feet high for all his kingdom to see. This Code brought order and stability to the land. For the first time, royal decree ceased to be arbitrary. For the first time, people were allowed to know the laws under which they would be governed and judged.

About four hundred years later, Moses, who had led the Hebrew people out of slavery in Egypt, gave the little band of wanderers another set of “laws” to live by. These laws, however, embodied the mind of God for them; they carried them into a society unique for its adherence not to the laws of Moses – subject to change by any ruler to follow – but to the law of God. They did not emerge out of human whim and fancy. They were irrevocable and unchangeable. They were to be written on the mind and in the heart of the Hebrew community for all time to come.

These laws were meant to be principles to live by rather than minutely defined prescriptions to be followed. These laws were clearly meant to shape a way of living, a lifestyle, an attitude of mind, a spirit of human community, a people.

The Ten Commandments were not made to be argued in a court of law. In fact, most of the items defined in the Ten Commandments were not legally enforceable at all. Many of them could not even be discovered in fact. How did anyone prosecute for “coveting”? How did anyone punish someone for not “remembering” to keep holy the Sabbath? How could anyone tell if, in the heart of a person, a “strange” god or two might not be lurking?

The point is that the Tend Commandments are laws of the heart, not laws of the commonwealth. They are laws that are intended to lead to the fullness of life, not simply to the well-ordered life.

Aristotle insists that the perfect life is one where we contemplate the best, most worthy things, the things of the highest merit. He argues that the perfect life commits us to dedicate ourselves to what it is that is worth thinking about. The Ten Commandments tell us what is worth thinking about in life. These are the things that last, that become spiritual ground on which our lives rest that become the path we walk on the journey to wholeness, from the smallest to the most expansive of human endeavor.

These are not so much new laws as they are a new vision of what it is to be a human community, a people of God. It is noteworthy that only once in Scripture are the Sinai Tablets called “commandments”. In fact in all other references they are referred to as the Decalogue – “the ten words”. It is these ten words, which over the years developed into ten ideas or concepts or ideals or propositions that make the twelve tribes of Israel a different kind of “people”. They are words about praise, human responsibility, justice, creation, the value of life, the nature of relationships, honesty, truth, desire and simplicity of life.

Written in the second person singular, “You shall”, and “You shall not”, the words are meant to be a whole new way of going about life for us all. We are told this time, not what the king expects, but what God expects – and we are each responsible for sculpting our lives in that mold. The Ten Commandments are, then, an adventure in human growth. We are not so much convicted by them as we are to be transformed by them. They are indicators, guidelines, lamp posts, light houses, to lead us to the fullness of life. They are invitations given to us by God to lead us to the peace, joy and happiness that God desires for us.

We need to realize that the commandments are about more than commandments. The commandments are not about restrictions; they are about things that make us whole. They are about the will of a loving God, that the love that sustains the universe should never die. Sometimes we fail to realize that the law and love are two sides of the same reality. Law teaches us how to love and so the love of the Creator demands the giving of the law. Thomas Merton wrote: “To say that I am made in the image of God is to say that love is the reason for my existence, for God is love.”

To live life with our arms open

Realizing how in our very being we are constantly called to more we can look at what that spells out to be in our ordinary everyday life.

The human being is a creature-in-search whose eternal compass is set to the interminable question, “For what?” For what are we really searching in life? Where should we go to seek it? How will we know when we have found it?

The questions ring across time, through great literature, in popular music, behind every major work of art. Every culture, every spirituality, every wisdom figure in every arena of life concentrates on finding the answer to the secret of living, the endpoint of life. Whatever the magnet that draws them on, whatever the tradition that guides them, these seekers walk the same way, they beat a single path and eventually they come to the same conclusion.

A Chinese proverb teaches: “The meaning of life is to see”.

The ancient rule of St. Benedict instructs persons “to listen”.

The philosopher Marcel Proust writes: “The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes”.

In other words it is not so much where we go in life that matters; it is the way we immerse ourselves in it, open ourselves to it, see beyond its trappings wherever we are that measures the quality of the journey.

We are put here to love, not for the sake of the other alone, but for our own sakes as well. To dare to love another as a person, rather than as an idea, is to turn ourselves over to be shaped and reshaped in life. The people who love us do for us what we cannot do for ourselves. They release the best in us; they shoulder us through the rough times in life; they stretch us beyond the confines of our own experiences to wider vision, to truer vistas. They show us the face of our creating, caring God on earth.

Perhaps the deepest spiritual understanding we can muster here is that human love is the only proof we have of the love of God. It is also the only arms God has with which to love us here and now, clearly and warmly, joyfully and achingly. Sometimes, alas, it is only our arms that God has to love others.

To be human it is necessary to think again about what matters in life. We must always ask why what is, is. To be human is to listen to the rest of the world with a tender heart, and learn to live life with our arms open and our souls pierced with a sense of responsibility for everything that is.

It is said that most of life is a fluke. It is not nearly as rational, as strategized, as planned as we love to think it is. As John Lennon was fond of saying, “Life is what happens while you are making other plans”. The problem is that we insist on trying to impose form and shape, plan and design on everything we do. Just letting things happen is not a comfortable skill for most people. Control is what we want. Certainty is what we like.

But there is a place in the soul for learning to leap. There is a particular virtue to darkness, to just allowing things to happen rather than wrenching them to our own specifications, for being willing to do things differently for a change, for avoiding terminal caution, for simply falling into the arms of God for a day or two instead of having to run the universe all by ourselves.

Being able to take life as it comes, to enjoy a change of plans, to break the routine, to try different things, to break out of the rut we put ourselves in so we can become the rest of ourselves, to build our wings on the way down is the spice that is missing in a routine-ized world.

As we journey in life it is interesting to see how we search for joy and despise suffering. Yet, suffering is a natural part of life with much to teach us and much to give us. Suffering gives us freedom and new opportunities. Joy gives us rest on the long road of life and an appreciation for heart-stopping beauty in the midst of the worldly. Most important of all is that suffering and joy come from the same place. Whatever is giving us the greatest happiness right now is the only thing that can really cause us great pain. Whatever is causing us suffering right now is the place beyond which we must now move in order to be able to live life joyfully again. Suffering and joy move us from end point to end point in life. They are the finger of God beckoning us to grow beyond where we are right now so that new and wonderful things can happen to us again, still, yet.

Work is the priesthood of the human race

One of the most demanding, but often overlooked, dimensions of the creation story is that when creation was finished it wasn’t really finished at all. Instead, God committed the rest of the process to us. What humans do on this earth either continues creation or obstructs it. It all depends on the way we look at life, the way we see our role in the ongoing creation of the world.

Work is our contribution to creation. It relates us to the rest of the world. It fulfills our responsibility to the future. God left us a world intact, a world with enough for everyone. The contemplative question of the time is what kind of world are we leaving to those who come after us?

If I could deviate for a moment from sharing directly on the theme of work, I would like to share a picture of the world that we are living in. If the earth’s population were a village of 100 people, there would be

• 62 Asians, 12 Europeans, 8 Africans and only 13 from the Americas.
• 70 of them would be non-white
• 67 would be non-Christian
• 14 could not read
• 21 would be undernourished
• 1 of them would have a college education
• 2 of them would own a computer
• 59 percent of the entire wealth of that village would be held by only 6 people, and all of them would be white, male and from the United States of America

The world is tilting and tipping and is terribly out of kilter. As Christians we must acknowledge that God pronounces all of creation “good”, not just some of it good, some better, some best. How are we leaving the world for those who come after us?

The contemplative sits out to shape the world in the image of God. Order, cleanliness, care of the environment brings the glory of God into the stuff of the moment, the character of the little piece of the planet for which we are responsible. The ideal state, the contemplative knows, is not to avoid work. The first thing Genesis requires of Adam and Eve is that they “till the garden and keep it”. Long before they sin they are commanded to work. In the Judeo-Christian tradition work is not punishment for sin.

Work is the mark of the conscientiously human. We do not live to outgrow work. We live to work well, to work with purpose, to work with honesty and quality and artistry. The floors the contemplative caretaker mops have never been better mopped. The class the contemplative teacher prepares brings the very best of life in the student. The computer programs the contemplative person creates make life more possible for everyone. The persons the contemplative administrator serves get all the care that God has given us.

The contemplative is overcome by the notion of tilling the garden and keeping it. Work does not distract us from God; it brings the reign of God closer than it was before we came. Work doesn’t take us away from God; it continues the work of God through us. Work is the priesthood of the human race. It turns the ordinary into the grandeur of God. Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote: “The world is charged with the grandeur of God. Our work enhances that grandeur of God in the world.”

Regret is the sand trap of the soul

As we look at our performance we should never brood over past mistakes and failures as this will only fill our minds with grief, regret and depression. Regret claims to be insight. But how can it be spiritual insight to deny the good of what has been for the sake of what was not? No, regret is not insight. In fact it is the sand trap of the soul. It fails to understand that there are many ways to the fullness of life, all of them different, all of them unique.

Regret is a temptation. It entices us to lust for what never was in the past rather than to bring new energy to our changing present. It is a misuse of the aging process. One of the functions, one of the gifts, of aging is to become comfortable with the self we are, rather than to mourn what we are not. When we devalue it, we bring everything we are and were into question, into doubt. We doubt the God who made us and walks with us all the way to the end.

There are banquets in our lives

Longing, too, is part of life. The only question is, “What do we long for?” Nobody is ever completely happy, completely satisfied. That’s not because we are failures; it’s because we are built that way. We’re supposed to want more, or why would we ever want God enough to go through life with a restless eye, watching. We need to be grateful for our longings. They are what take us to the next step in life and there are many steps to be walked before we are whole, before we are finally home. Someplace along the way in life we all need to long for God, for what really counts. The hard thing, the good thing, is that life itself will teach us that.

As we journey we need to stop and thank God – consciously – for the good things of the day. We spend so much time wanting things to be better that we fail to see our real gifts. There are banquets in our life and we don’t enjoy them because we are always grasping for something more: the perfect schedule, the perfect work, the perfect friend, the perfect community. We have to realize that God’s gifts are all around us, that joy is an attitude of the mind, an awareness that my life is basically good.

The following is an exercise I would like to suggest. Try saying this silently to everyone and everything you see for 30 days and see what happens to your soul: “I wish you happiness now and whatever will bring happiness to you in the future”. If it is said to the sky, we would have to stop polluting. If we said it when we see the ponds and lakes and streams, we would have to stop using them as garbage dumps and sewers. If we said it to small children, we would have to stop abusing them, even in the name of training. If we said it to colleagues and other persons, we would have to stop stoking the fires of enmity and competition around us. Beauty and human warmth would take root in us like a clear, hot June day. We would change.

“I wish you happiness now and whatever will bring happiness to you in the future.”
Most Rev. Gerald Wiesner, O.M.I.

March 2008

As we prepare to celebrate Holy Thursday and Easter, and as we continue to prepare for the celebration of the International Eucharistic Congress in Canada, it is well for us to continue to reflect more deeply and intimately on our celebration of the Eucharist.

When the Gospel of John introduces the washing of the feet it does so by saying, “Having loved his own who were in the world he loved them to the end”.

We are “his own”; we are the ones he knows and loves. “He loved them to the end”. This means that he loved them (us) fully and completely. Jesus’ love for his own will be demonstrated in the foot washing, but it will receive its full and final expression in his gift of life, which is present in the Eucharist.

It is in our celebration of the Eucharist that we hear the Lord’s request of us, “Do this in memory of me”. As we listen to this request of Jesus in our regard, we are faced with questions:

• What are we to think was Jesus’ deepest desire in asking this of us?
• How deeply and earnestly does he want us to do this?
• Why did he want us to do this?
• What should be our disposition as we “do this in memory” of him?

One way of beginning to answer the questions is to look at what it is we do when we celebrate the Eucharist.

To begin the Eucharist involves blessing. To bless is to “say good things about”.

In every Eucharist we bless God, we say good things about God. This is our response to all that God has shared with us about God’s very self. We bless God, and this includes everything God has created.

Blessing God is acknowledging God, praising, rejoicing, glorifying, sanctifying God. Notice how we pray in the Eucharistic Prayer:

• “We come to you Father with praise and thanksgiving through Jesus Christ your Son”
• “Father, you are holy indeed, and all creation rightly gives you praise”
• “God of power and might, we praise you through your Son, Jesus Christ, who comes in your name”

In all of this we bless the Father through Jesus.

When we do this in memory of Jesus, it is Jesus who prays; it is Jesus who blesses the Father for us and with us. We join Jesus in his prayer of blessing the Father. As we think of this, is it any wonder that Jesus invites us to do this in memory of him?

The Eucharist involves thanksgiving; thanksgiving for the fact that God has become our partner, thanksgiving that our God has entered into an intimate covenant with us, a bond of intimate friendship with us.

We are remembering the magnificent deeds of God, especially those done in Jesus. We also remember the deeds done in the church, in the community and in our own personal lives.

For all of this we give thanks. Again, notice some of the ways in which we pray.

“Father, calling to mind the death your Son endured for our salvation, his glorious resurrection and ascension into heaven, and ready to greet him when he comes again, we offer you in thanksgiving this holy and living sacrifice.”

Notice what we offer in thanksgiving. We pray further,

“We come to you Father, with praise and thanksgiving, through Jesus Christ your Son.”

Many of the prefaces begin,

“Father, all powerful and ever living God, we do well always and everywhere to give you thanks.”

It involves petition, begging. We ask for the Spirit to build up the church, the People of God.

We ask the Father to send the Spirit, first of all as a sign of the Father’s acceptance of us. We ask the Father to transform the gift, to transform the people who receive the gifts, and to transform them into the church, the community, the union of one heart and one soul.

The Spirit brings forgiveness, peace, the pledge of future life.

And so we pray:

• “And so, Father, we bring you these gifts. We ask you to make them holy by the power
  of your Spirit …”
• “Have mercy on us all; make us worthy to share eternal life with Mary, the virgin Mother of God …”
• “Grant that we, who are nourished by his body and blood, may be filled with his Holy Spirit, and become one body, one spirit in Christ.”
• “Lord, remember those whom we offer this sacrifice … those who take part in this offering … those who have died in the peace of Christ.”

As we pray in this way we need to remind ourselves of the true nature of this prayer.

The church teaches us that “the liturgy is rightly seen as an exercise of the priestly office of Jesus Christ.” In other words, all the while we are praying in this way, it is really Jesus who is praying.

In the Gospel of John we hear Jesus promise, “I will do whatever you ask in my name … if in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it”.

In our prayer we are praying with Jesus and in Jesus’ name. In our prayer Jesus is praising the Father for us and with us. Jesus is thanking the Father for all the blessings we receive, and asking the Father for all we need.

When the church speaks of us praying at Mass it says, “Offering the immaculate victim, not only through the hands of the priest but also together with him, they should learn to offer themselves.” By this we are reminded that in virtue of our baptismal priesthood, we offer the immaculate victim to the Father.

We are empowered to pray along with Jesus, to offer Jesus and ourselves to the Father. Jesus makes his prayer our prayer. What does the Father do with Jesus’ prayer?

We are also reminded by the church that the very nature of the liturgy is such that it demands full participation. More than that, in virtue of our baptism we have the right, the duty to celebrate the liturgy.

It is in light of all of this that we need to ponder carefully and prayerfully.

In the Eucharist Jesus is bringing us the saving grace of his passion, death, resurrection and Spirit. Jesus is praying to the Father on our behalf and with us, offering praise, thanks and petition.

It is in the midst of all of this that Jesus says to us gently, earnestly, with deep desire and eager longing, “Do this is memory of me”.

December 2007

During the course of the past year the Canadian Church has been preparing to celebrate the 49th International Eucharistic Congress in Quebec City on June 15-21, 2008. In anticipation of the international event many celebrations are being held. What this occasion provides for each of us is the opportunity to review, renew and deepen our awareness of and our faith in the Holy Eucharist.

When the Second Vatican Council speaks of how Christ continues to carry on his mission in the world, it speaks of his presence in the Church, especially in her liturgical celebrations. It shares more specifically the various ways of Christ’s presence stating, “Lastly, he is present when the Church prays and sings, for he has promised ‘where two or three gather together in my name there I am in the midst of them’ (Matthew 18:20)” (S.C.#7).

Several documents following the Second Vatican Council affirm the same in clarified forms. In 1973 the Sacred Congregation For Divine Worship affirmed, “In the celebration of Mass the principal forms of Christ’s presence in his Church are manifested progressively. First, he is present in the assembly of the faithful gathered together in his name.”

What an understanding of this does is lead us to a greater awareness of the existence and quality of the community in the celebration of the Eucharist.

Reflection on this leads us to chapter 11 of the first letter to the Corinthians, the first written record we have of the Eucharist in the New Testament. Paul was at Ephesus at this time and he received a message from Corinth that described several problematic situations in the Church, among them was the gathering for the Eucharist.

The problem that Paul addressed was that they did not have community when they came together. There are divisions among them. Not everyone was treated equally. There are “haves” and “have nots”. The best food was served to some while others received much less.

What Paul asks is “Where is the community? Why is the Eucharist of the community even started when there is no community?” Everyone should feel welcome and should have a place. It is only when you have this kind of community that you have what you need for the Eucharist.

There was a parish that wanted to renew its appreciation and practice of the Sacrament of Reconciliation; they were asking themselves about what could be done. In their reflection they came to the conclusion that before they could touch the Sacrament of Reconciliation they needed to establish a reconciling community. For one year the homilies and bulletins reflected on reconciliation. Emphasis was placed on visiting neighbors, the sick, spending time with teenagers, the divorced and remarried, the marginalized, alienated and prisoners.

After a year of this they began to look at the Sacrament of Reconciliation as a community. They decided to have community celebrations with individual confession. Generally they agreed that never before had they experienced such rich celebrations of the Sacrament of Reconciliation.

A good community is one where there is unity. Jesus the Lord is the one who makes us one. It is a gospel person who makes us one. The good news of community is filled with the spirit of compassion. In the gospel-inspired community everyone is important; no one is unimportant.

I have to ask myself “Have I caught the message of the gospel? Do I say ‘Brother Leper,’ Sister Prostitute’?” The gospel message doesn’t mean I have to like everyone. God likes them. God loves them and so must I. In the community we are to have prolongation of the mission of Jesus. The gospel is a message of forgiveness; it tells people that they are good, accepted in their weakness. The gospel community is alive in Jesus.

When there is disunity the community is not alive in Christ. As we realize our own sinfulness we will reach out in compassion to others. It is not too difficult to see that the greater the participation is in all of this, the greater will be the community and the greater will be the meaning of the Eucharist.

Eucharistic spirituality is a spirituality of acceptance. The Lord accepts us and we are to accept one another.

Consider oneself as a Eucharistic minister. In this position one is a sacrament of Jesus. Through the Eucharistic minister the Lord is saying to people, “Here I am”. This greeting is given to the little lady with the black veil praying her rosary, to the 280-pound truck driver with his hands behind his back, taught in Grade 2 not to chew the host, to the teenager with his hair standing up, his belt low on his waist and chewing gum.

The Lord never says: “take the gum out of your mouth, put the rosary away, concentrate on prayer.” Rather the Lord says, “Good to see you; glad you are here; welcome!” What the Eucharistic minister is to show is the love of God, the compassion of God. Jesus is big enough to take care of himself and needs us only to reveal his love and goodness.

The parable of the great banquet invites us to reflect further on the community of God’s people (Luke 14:16-23). Like all gospel parables, it is a story that reveals the nature of God, as Jesus knew him. The householder is one of the elite of a small town; he prepares a banquet and invites his peers, the elite. When they refuse to come, in anger the householder sends the servants out into the streets and lanes of the town to bring in the poor, crippled, blind and lame.

The arrival of the poor and physically disabled does not fill the banquet hall. The householder is faced with the option of either calling off the banquet or inviting more people. He decides on the latter and sends the servants to bring in everyone they find on the roads and lanes. To be more specific, the tax collectors, public sinners, prostitutes, marginalized, the people nobody wants.

The banquet hall at last is filled and the householder sits down to the meal with this group of people. In the culture of first century Palestine, sharing a meal was the sign of identification with those at table. Thus, if the householder joins in the meal, he is identifying himself with the marginalized, the ones considered to be no good, the public sinners. That is why the religious authorities and even the disciples of John the Baptist were so horrified when Jesus ate with tax collectors and prostitutes. The fact that the parable makes clear is that everyone, no matter who they are, is invited to the banquet; and not only invited, but in some cases, urged to come.

In the parable the householder, the symbol of God the Father, completely joins the company. This is what God actually does in the Incarnation of his Beloved Son. In completely identifying with sinners, God becomes the opposite of who he is by divine right and dignity. God becomes a human being just as human beings are, sinners in desperate need of forgiveness and healing. Evidently God wills, at any cost, to share his inner life with us. God calls us into communion with God and with one another.

All of this shows us that the Gospel is not about earning the love of God, because we already have it. It is a matter of receiving it and of being grateful. Everyone needs God. It is not a question of being worthy or not. The issue is: will we, like those last invited to the great banquet, come in and sit down with the One who is hosting the party? Will we accept the divine hospitality and join in the banquet with God and the other guests? Will we gather as the community of God’s people, called together by God as sisters and brothers of our Lord, and together with him celebrate the mystery of the Eucharist, which makes us one?

In the Eucharist we share the Body and Blood of Christ, which makes us one. How necessary it is that we be free of all divisions, that we truly be community, since the Lord is inviting us to be one with him and with one another.

“How very good and pleasant it is when kindred live together in unity! It is like precious oil on the head, running down upon the beard, on the beard of Aaron … It is like the dew of Hermon, which falls on the mountains of Zion. For there the Lord ordained his blessing, life forevermore” (Psalm 133:1-3).