He makes Himself so utterly nothing for us, that He does not keep even His appearance. He hides His divinity, His blessed and beautiful Person, under the veils of bread and wine, and in that state He abandons Himself so utterly to our power that we can do what we will with Him. The life of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament is a life of total self-abnegation. He does not even protect Himself from ill-treatment, from the contempt and scoffing sneer of the unbeliever, from the mockery of silly children, nor from the horrible sacrileges committed against Him by bad Catholics. He can suffer all that, and does so without a murmur, in order that He may approach us, and that we may receive Him in such a manner as shall be the best for our comfort, for our joy, for our soul's peace. We know by experience, I hope, what a good, happy communion is. Is it not the moment of supreme happiness, and of such happiness that nothing else is like it in the world? Then we cry Lord, now that Thou art mine and I am Thine, I am all blessed. There is no chord in the heart that does not vibrate with thrills of love at the presence of Jesus. He makes us feel then, more than we can express, how much He loves us; and cold must be the heart that does not respond with some emotion to the sweetness of His loving embrace.
The love of our dear Saviour for men is more ardent, more constant, more, shall I say, anxious than our love can ever be; and the reason is, because His love is wholly unselfish. The life of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament proves it. He does nothing there apparently for Himself, nor takes any thought of Himself that we can divine. It is for us that He lives so. For our love He has given up all.
You may say that it was by dying for us that He proved His love the best, as He Himself said, "Greater love hath no man than that he should lay down his life for his friend." Yes; but do you not see that it is just in the Blessed Sacrament that He brings that proof home to us? It is a memorial of His passion and death. He has linked the two together, so that they make only one act. The sacrifice of the Mass, in which the bread and wine are consecrated into His body and blood, and the sacrifice of Calvary, are one essential act.
It was in the night in which He was betrayed that He instituted it. On this night. What did He say? "This is My body which is given for you. This is My blood which shall be shed for you. Do this for a commemoration of Me"—of Me, upon whom the shadows of death are already falling—of Me, who even now begin to be sorrowful and sad at heart, knowing that My hour is come—of Me, who to-morrow will be spit upon, and scourged, and crowned with thorns, and nailed to a cruel cross, and suffer the bitter agonies of a horrible death for you, My beloved—you for whom I came into the world—you for whom I live—you for whom I die. "A little while I leave you, and a little while I come unto you. Remember that, when we shall meet again. When I come to you in Holy Communion, then you will receive One who you know loved you to the end. I will come to you, and be the surest pledge of what I have done for you, and how much I have loved you."
Holy Communion is one of the most powerful means of sanctification granted to us. What shall the presence of the All-Holy be unable to do? What other light and grace could we desire both to detect and shun all evil, and to delight in what is pure and true? Oh! when Jesus comes to the willing heart, and finds a welcome there, all is easy. No tempest of passion or of doubt is to be feared when the Master is with us. My dear brethren, this world is very foolish when it sneers at the sanctification of the soul, or bids us follow its guidance in getting rid of the power or shame of sin, and in our strivings after higher and better things. Little it knows about the true progress of the soul. Jesus, the Eternal Wisdom, is the sole teacher. A fervent communion with Him will do what the world cannot do. It will make us holy. It will make our souls sacred to God—more sacred to Him than the altar before which we bow, or the precious vessels upon it that hold His Body and Blood. If you would confirm that sanctity, come often to the source of sanctity. Come so often that He may be said to abide with you; then will you surely live and die a saint.
In the next place, Communion is an act which possesses a peculiar significance for the forgiven sinner. It should have. It was sin that made Him die, and Communion is a memorial of His death. But why is it that a contrite sinner, burdened with the memory of the many outrages he has committed against Jesus Christ by his bad life, by his cursing, his profanation of the Holy Name, his drunkenness and debaucheries, his lies and thefts, his dark crimes, it may be, that make even his brother men shun him as they would a poisonous reptile—why is it, I ask, that even such an one, coming, heartily sorry, to Confession, ready and eager to amend his life and do better, and so receives absolution, should have such a strange longing, as all forgiven sinners do have, to get Communion, and that as soon as possible? One would think they would rather fear to approach Him, and dread to be confronted with the awful memorial of their crucified and so cruelly offended Lord. Not so. Their hearts are Christian after all; and He draws them to Him closer and closer by the strong cords of love the moment they turn to Him. True, He appoints His priest to forgive them in His name. But that does not satisfy the desire with which He desires to be reconciled with them in person. "Come to Me," He cries from the altar; "come to Me now. My poor lost one. Come, get My kiss of peace. Come, we have been separated too long. I have been watching you. I have heard you praying. I saw you go into the confessional. I heard you tell your sins. I saw the tears course down your cheeks. I felt every throb of your heart. My hand, too, gave you absolution and full forgiveness for all. You went there one of the devil's own. Now you are Mine. Come, now, take Me to your heart. We will be friends again, and I shall have only one reproach to make you; Oh! why have you stayed so long away?" The forgiven sinner knows Jesus is saying all this. Do you wonder that he goes home from confession a happy man; that he counts the hours until he can come back, and thinks the time long until he can go up to the Holy Table, and there clasp his long-forgotten and neglected Lord to his bosom? Oh! the earnest, upturned face, radiant with joy, which makes the priest's hand tremble with sympathetic emotion as he gives him the Holy Sacrament. You have seen friends long separated and divided come together and make up. You know what a touching scene it is. There are smiles upon your lips and sparkling tears in your eyes at the same moment. So it is often here when Jesus meets and makes up with old hardened sinners. Blessed, a million times blessed, be the kind and loving heart of Jesus, which, once laid open by the spear, is never shut to any one who will enter in and abide there.
Holy Communion is a Feast of Thanksgiving. That is the meaning of the word Eucharist—thanksgiving. It is one of the names of the Blessed Sacrament. You remember that when Jesus first broke the bread on this night He gave thanks. He meant that we also should use it as a worthy and precious thank-offering for all He has done for us; for having created us; for having redeemed us; for having died for us; for His great love in this Holy Sacrament; for all the benefits with which He has crowned our lives. Who is there that can approach here without crying out with the Psalmist, "What shall I render to the Lord for all that He has rendered to me? I will take the chalice of salvation, and call upon the name of the Lord." [Footnote 24]
[Footnote 24: Ps. cxv. 3, 4.]
[USCCB: Ps. cxv. 12, 13.]
No word of thanks at your Communion—not a grateful thought in your heart? Oh! how is this? Have you really come back to make up with Him, or have you come—O horrible thought!—only like Judas to betray Him? Does He say to you as He said to that lost disciple, "Friend, dost thou betray the Son of Man with a kiss?"