Our Lady of Lourdes Church and School

This weekend our parish celebrates the joy of ninety-one young people approaching the altar and participating fully in Eucharist with us for the first time. Traditionally we usually refer to this wonderful occasion of grace as “First Communion”.

Every time we celebrate “First Communion” in a parish, I am reminded of my own first communion. I suspect I am not alone in this. I’d like to say that I can remember the wonderfully spiritual moment that was, but my memories - such as they are at this point in my life - are less spiritual, but not less human for all that. I remember being dressed in a special outfit of clothes that my mother put a lot of time and energy into selecting. They were days when fasting was important and so first communion was held at the early morning mass so that we young ones didn’t have to fast too long into the day. All of us who were making first communion were made to look as angelic as humanly possible, and we’ve never even come close to looking so angelic again since. Girls wore white dresses. Boys wore shirts and ties. We were warned against letting the sacred host touch our teeth (it was considered disrespectful to ‘bite Jesus’). I suppose the thing is that remembering such brings back a whole range of memories and the emotions that accompany such memories. But as a people of faith, it is incumbent upon us to not only enter into the emotional memory of our faith journey, but to also to engage the realities of what it means to be raised, to be nurtured and to nurture one another into the eucharistic life of our community. In a real sense this is an opportunity for everyone who mentors or who accompanies others in the journey of faith development to reflect on how we participate in the mentoring and leadership of Jesus himself, the Good Shepherd.

For some, Sunday Eucharist is seen as a troublesome obligation that has a certain quaintness to it, but which has little meaningful connection with our lives and our modern priorities. As we have become busier, even the traditional commitment to family that was primarily lived out on Sundays with the anchor of Sunday Mass grounding us for the week, has been eroded. Other family activities have encroached upon, and sometimes have even supplanted, Sunday Eucharist. It’s not uncommon for families to find themselves torn in different directions by different activities, all good in themselves, but nonetheless bringing pressure and difficulties to family life. I honestly don’t envy those who struggle with this challenge from week to week. Of course I have my own personal bias, but it is a bias grounded in experience and in personal choice concerning values to be nurtured and enshrined in life for the greater good of ourselves and of those who are nearest and dearest to us.

Our participation in Eucharist is a direct response to the invitation of the Good Shepherd to “do this in memory of me”. The Passover which he shared with his disciples became for us the sacred meal of thanksgiving, celebrated in the context of the passover sacrifice that Jesus became for all of us. Our sharing in this meal is our participation in the life and mission of Jesus Christ, the Good Shepherd himself. We consider our participation to be the fundamental expression of our commitment to the way of life into which Jesus invites us… a way of life that seeks to imitate him in his compassion for others, in his commitment to the marginalized and weakest members of society, in his willingness to be for others the friend, the companion and the model of all that the Father calls us to be with and for one another. To enter into this reality is both a mystery to be explored and a challenge to be lived. I can appreciate why it can seem attractive to get involved instead in other activities that aren’t as difficult to understand nor as demanding in terms of commitment.

For Catholics, we have  a particular understanding that when we participate in Eucharist we are making a commitment to an entire way of life that isn’t grounded in the personal choices of what suits me in any given moment, but rather is grounded in the reality of the context of which I am a part. There is more to life than myself and my own desires, and participation in the Eucharist is an affirmation that while individuality has its place, relationship with those whom I love, and with those whom I am called to love is a profoundly human and necessary part of life. “Love one another” is not a disembodied idea for a Eucharistic people. It is a mandate of the one we call our Savior, and we are the less for it when we forget to engage the mystery it holds for us.