The Liturgy

This past week, pilgrims from all over the United States gathered in Indianapolis for the 10th National Eucharistic Congress. The last congress was held in the Twin Cities of Minnesota in 1941. It was an interesting year, to say the least. Franklin Delano Roosevelt was president; the average cost of a new car was $925; and gas for that new car was priced at only 19 cents per gallon. At the time of the congress, the United States had not yet entered the Second World War, and radio was the dominant broadcast medium. In the history of the Church, Pius XII was the pope, and the Second Vatican Council would not yet be convened for another 22 years.

Last week, 83 years later, despite the heat of a Midwest summer, people gathered to celebrate the Mass, and to worship the Real Presence of Jesus Christ in the Blessed Sacrament in humble adoration. Additionally, for weeks leading up to the congress, thousands processed across the United States, following the Blessed Sacrament exposed in the monstrance and bearing witness to their faith. While I was not able to attend the Congress myself, I was still able to follow parts of it from the comfort of my home via livestream and social media platforms. On the one hand, the technology that made it possible for me and others like me to participate in the congress was a real gift that was not possible in 1941; on the other, I felt like I did during the pandemic when, while having the ability to watch and pray with a live-streamed Mass, something was profoundly missing. That something was my own presence.

Catholic liturgy is rich with physical movement, expressions and gestures that are filled with symbolism — so much so that even the smallest details and the smallest movements carry deep meaning and point us toward God. In the liturgy, we have rites that speak to our bodies, our minds and our spirits; however, throughout history, there has been a great disconnect with the physical and the spiritual, causing people to see the human person as simply a soul imprisoned within a body or a body without a soul. Yet, in the liturgy, we see a profound respect for the unity and reality of both. In this way, the human body is a “sacramental” object, meaning that our bodies reveal and communicate something invisible. That is, our own thoughts, prayers, attitudes, desires and dispositions are communicated by what we do and say, a respect for the body that comes from our belief in the Incarnation. By taking on human nature, Jesus both affirmed its goodness and redeemed it.

This is why the liturgy is both an intensely physical experience and a spiritual experience. The culmination of the Mass — and the highest, most holy expression of our faith — is Holy Communion, where the faithful receive the consecrated species, which is no longer merely bread and wine, but the Body, Blood, soul and divinity of Christ. Thus, when we feed our body with the Body and Blood of Christ, Christ becomes part of us, and we become part of Christ. Yet even beyond this, there are so many liturgical movements and gestures that are highly symbolic. We physicalize our faith when we make the sign of the cross with holy water as we enter a church, a gesture that reminds us that our salvation in Christ comes from our passing through the merciful waters of Baptism. When we stand for the Gospel, genuflect before the tabernacle, or exchange peace with our family, friends and neighbors just before the Lamb of God, we are acknowledging Christ’s presence in the Word, in the Blessed Sacrament and in one another respectively.

In 2022, Pope Francis wrote an apostolic letter to the Church titled “Desiderio desideravi” in which he spoke about the importance of theological reflection and the liturgy. In paragraph 44 of that letter, Francis states: “Every symbol is at the same time both powerful and fragile. If it is not respected, if it is not treated for what it is, it shatters, loses its forces, and becomes insignificant. We no longer have the gaze of St. Francis, who looked at the sun — which he called brother because so he felt it to be — and saw it beautiful and radiant with great splendor, and, full of wonder, he sang that it bears a likeness of You, Most High One.” Pope Francis then continues with an invitation to us to become once again capable of engaging with all the symbols of the liturgy as we learn (and relearn) how to read them and be formed in how to live them.

Thus, for all of us, the question becomes “What’s next?” for us as a Catholic Church. For all those who were at the National Eucharistic Congress this past week, I hope it was an amazing experience and a renewal of your faith, to which you bear witness to your families, friends and parishes. For those who, like me, were able to receive bits and pieces via livestream, join me in thanking God for the ability to do that from both near and far; however, let us never lose sight of what the Eucharist is and means for all of us today — as we celebrate as the Body of Christ, we receive the Body of Christ, and thus we become the Body of Christ in the world.