It’s good to be home! For the past 10 days, I was with a group of our high school students and parents traveling to Rome, Assisi, Venice and Salzburg. Our trip was enjoyable and, for the most part, we traveled well together.
No trip to Europe would be complete without visiting some of the churches there and we did our share of church hopping (in the good sense). After celebrating Mass near the crypt of Pope John Paul II, we enjoyed a tour of the upper basilica of St. Peter’s; we spent time in the Basilica of Maria Maggiore or Mary Major. We stopped in to see the Pantheon— once a great pagan temple, now used as a Church. The two basilicas of Assisi--one dedicated to St. Francis and the other to St. Clare were special moments for us with their vaulted ceilings, Giotto frescoes and crypt churches containing the tombs of those two saints. We went to Mass in Venice where there was no procession, no offertory and where we were disrupted by an intoxicated man vomiting in the back of the Church. We visited St. Mark’s basilica in Venice where we were told to be quiet on numerous occasions. Finally, we stopped in a few churches in Salzburg where hundreds of tourists were snapping pictures against the rules and buying souvenirs. The last church I visited was the best. A small, ancient church built alongside the mountain in Salzburg. It was dimly lit, had rows of votive candles, and a few people praying the rosary.
Suffice it to say that Roman Catholicism has made its mark on European history and culture as evidenced by the numbers of churches in any given city.
But there was one thing that was pretty obvious. Most of these churches have only a small group of faithful parishioners who attend Mass. The Mass we attended in Venice had about 200 people present— all elderly people. The teenagers in attendance with our group were the only youth I could see in the Church. The practice of the faith has dwindled dramatically in many European countries. Basilicas and cathedrals— even less known parish churches— which boast wondrous feats of architecture and works of art— have become little more than museums for tourists and places of worship for a small group of faith worshipers. One has to ask, “what has happened?” “Why have these churches which shaped the history, culture and life of the people fallen into disuse?” Why has much of Europe abandoned its Christian heritage?
There are possibly many answers to that question, but an obvious drawback to an irreligious population is that it is not spiritually fed. It has no moral code which might assist in providing meaningful answers to life’s increasingly complex questions. It pays no heed to doctrine which provides a framework for understanding God and how God has acted in the human family. It has no sense of spiritual community which can provide support at critical moments in life. Finally, it has no real sense of being fed or nurtured, especially through the Sacraments which are given to us for our ongoing journey through life. Without the practice of faith, a society can quickly drift from a sense of its own historical identity and become lost in a kind of ambiguous relativism which leads us to believe that one can believe anything or do anything and still be healthy. Such is the danger of an irreligious society.
The Scripture readings for this Sunday have a common thread running through them which might speak to us about our Christian identity. The readings offer us some hope about the meaning of our lives in relationship to God’s plan for us. They speak to us about how we can become what we are called to be.
In the first reading, the prophet Elijah is downcast. His ministry to the people of Israel has fallen on deaf ears. The people are not interested in hearing what he has to say. They have fallen into pagan practices and have forgotten the God who delivered them from slavery. So, discouraged, he wanders into the desert to die. He sits under a tree and prays for death. Life has lost its meaning for Elijah. He sees no future for himself or for his people. But God answers him in his distress. Not with quick solutions to the problems and questions confronting Elijah but by food which gives Elijah the strength to continue forward. An angel brings him some food and drink and says, “Eat and drink because the journey is going to be long.” God is telling Elijah that he still has work to do. He may be discouraged but God is there to assist and God assists by giving him sustenance for the journey ahead. This provision of food given to Elijah for the journey foreshadows the Eucharist that assists us on the journey through life— a life which can bring frustration, pain, confusion and hopelessness. As a result of the food Elijah receives he is able to walk for 40 days as he continues on his mission.
In the Gospel passage, Jesus reveals to his listeners that he is bread from heaven and that he is sustenance for them and that this food— his body and blood— can provide everything they need on the journey through life. But the people do not understand. They murmur against him, they question his words and some even choose to leave his company. That response might remind us of those who have forgotten about their Christian calling— those who have left the company of faith— those for whom the words of Jesus mean little in these confusing times.
But, connecting these passages, including many others sections of the Scriptures, it is clear that God does provide for us and that this provision has been continuous throughout salvation history. God provided for the people of Israel by sending them bread from heaven— manna in the desert— so that they could continue their journey towards the Promised Land. And, after they were in the Promised Land, God continued giving them bread in the form of patriarchs, kings, judges and prophets who sought to gather the people together under God’s gracious care. And, in the fulness of time, God sends the Son, Jesus, who understands that his very presence of bread from heaven. He is the new manna that assists us on our journey through life. He is, in one person, the combination of every patriarch, judge, king and prophet who ever appeared throughout the Scriptures. In his person, we are forgiven, nourished and lifted up for the journey through life. And, in the Sacrament of the Eucharist, our Church celebrates that ongoing presence of Jesus. The Eucharistic meal is given to us as a continuum of God’s sustenance as we journey through life. When we gather together as a community of faith on the first day of the week in order to be fed with God’s word and in the Sacrament, we are remembering our identity as God’s children and acknowledging that, without that heavenly food, we can easily become weakened and lose our way.
I suspect that this is the great tragedy that has befallen many of our brothers and sisters in Europe. As you see empty churches you are compelled to think about how many people do not receive the Eucharist and therefore do not avail themselves of this spiritual food. By depriving themselves of the gift that has been offered in one form or another through the history of our salvation, people can forget who they are and who they are called to be. Their disconnect from the Eucharist can only serve to isolate them as individuals wandering through the desert without much direction. Of course, this is not only the case with Europeans but with people we ourselves know who have stopped participating in the worship of the Church.
In one church we visited there was a beautiful tabernacle situated off to one side. It was at least 5 feet tall and seemed to be made of gold and silver— it was designed in the shape of a Church with steeples and a large dome. It had one votive candle indicating the presence of the Eucharist. The inscription in Latin said, “Whoever eats this bread will live forever.” How tragic for some to admire the tabernacle but not the gift contained within it.
Let us value the gift that is given to us. The very presence of Jesus in the Eucharist is there for the asking. It can strengthen us and guide us as we make the journey of life together.