Tonight when we move to the Table to celebrate the
Eucharist, when all of the bread and wine on that Table have been consecrated,
when I reach down and pick up that Easter host and break it in half I will
say:
“Behold what we are” and you will
respond “May we become what we receive.”
“Behold what we are” “May we become what we receive.”
These
words can be traced all the way back to St. Augustine, who, sometime in the 4th
and 5th centuries, preached a sermon on the Eucharist. In this sermon, St Augustine says: “one of
the deep truths of Christian faith: through our participation in the sacraments
(particularly in baptism and Eucharist), we are transformed into the Body of
Christ, given for the world.” In broken bread and wine outpoured, we glimpse
Christ’s broken body on the cross and see the lengths to which God is willing
to go for each and everyone of us – an intimate love beyond measure. “Behold
what we are: May we become what we receive.”
So that’s great for liturgy. John over there on the piano might wonder
why we are not using one of the beautiful fraction anthems on this first
Eucharist of Easter. Others might prefer
that we stick with “Alleluia Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us. Therefore let us keep the feast
Alleluia.” Just for a minute though
let’s stop and think
‘What does it mean to see what we are, and to
become what we receive in our lives?”
What did St Augustine mean when he said we are transformed into the Body
of Christ? Are we meant to become a
broken loaf of bread and some wine? The bread goes stale, and the wine sours if
left out for too long, so that doesn't make much sense. But then again, aren’t the bread and wine
more for us than what we see?
As Episcopalians we often talk about the Real
Presence of Christ in the Eucharist.
After consecration, we hold that the left over bread and wine are no
longer just bread and wine. We treat
them as holy, set aside for particular reverence. When we pour out the wine, we pour it into a
basin that goes directly to the ground and does not mingle with other waste
water. Unused consecrated bread is held
in a place set aside, so that it is easily recognized. Or it is buried as we would bury a body that
has died.
I am
quite certain that each one of us has a slightly different understanding of
what the “Real presence of Christ” means, but honestly I don’t think that is
the point. The point is that every time we receive the Eucharist, we are transformed -- or at least we should be transformed – just a little
more fully into the Image of God in which we were created, so that the divine
love that made us and that flows through us can become more fully expressed in the world.
Those words at the Fraction, “Behold what we
see. May we become what we receive” ask
us to look deeper at what we see- this bread and wine, the offering of Jesus,
the person of Jesus, this invitation to wholeness in Jesus, and become what we
see through our incorporating that wholeness and love in the world around
us. At the core of this becoming is a relationship, - a relationship with
Christ - so profound that we can’t live the same anymore because of it.
This act of sharing God’s Love starts with
awareness. Awareness of the Gifts we
receive at this Table and the gratitude that we have for that gift of sustenance,
resiliency, consolation, and hope. And
in our gratitude we are sent on our way into the world to live differently
because of what we’ve received – whether in person or virtually through the
prayer for spiritual Communion -, a reception that fundamentally changes us
because we now see and know ourselves differently due to the action of Christ’s
birth, life, death, and resurrection. The deepest mystery is how will we act -
how we are to live because of what we see and receive?
As Christians, I believe we are called to live
differently in the world, which means how we make choices in life, matters.
The needs around us are incredibly high, isolation and loneliness are our
constant companions for months now. Incomes
and housing are unequal, good jobs are difficult with or without a pandemic,
security seems more uncertain than it did in the past. How do we support the
wholeness of God's vision for the world?
I think, we start with what’s in-front of us. When
we see poverty, racism, sexism, any phobia, or any boundary that keeps us apart
from one another, we ask questions about why this still happens, and we stand
with those who are disposed -- because in standing with them, we are acting to
support the whole. When we start to take
our grand-kids fears seriously when they tell us that climate change is the
thing which keeps them awake at night, because in listening to their fears we
start to act on how to work for a better world for all. When we listen and
learn how to have conversations differently about mental health, removing the
stigma and shame, we act to opening the door to healing and wholeness. When we
begin to recognize the inequity built into a society formed on the backs of
people of color and to the benefit of those who are white then we can begin to
heal the wounds.
We start, slowly, to bring wholeness to our
communities through building human relationships, Christ centered relationships
because, you see, this is the key, Christ came, lived, loved, and died as one
of us to make us whole again -- to bring us back to wholeness through a
relationship with him. Every one of us,
both here and outside this church, deserve wholeness, it's a fundamental human
right. And the practice of wholeness starts right here, at this altar, today.
“Behold
what we are: May we become what we receive”
How
different our lives become when we believe that every little act of
faithfulness, every gesture of love, every word of forgiveness, every gift for
the good of someone else, every little bit of joy and peace will multiply and
multiply as long as there are people to receive it. In the Eucharistic prayer
the priest takes the bread, blesses the bread, breaks the bread, and gives the
bread. That is the promise of the
Eucharist: that as we know ourselves to be taken, blessed, broken, and given,
we will become bread for the world. And our lives will feed and bless those
around us in more ways than we can ask or imagine. Amen
