What Is Holy Communion?

There are no more poignant passages—certainly tragic—almost heart-rending—than the one where Our Blessed Lord is looking at the skyline of Jerusalem and He is grieving for its inhabitants.

“Poor Jerusalem—that it does not recognize the time of its visitation.” In other words—this city of Jerusalem, dear to God, dear to its own people, does not recognize when the Messiah has finally come. They have missed it—His Message—His Salvation—His promise of Heaven. And He grieves not so much because this is all going to end so tragically for them. He is not grieving because Rome having had enough of these Jews’ endless rebellions—was going to come into Jerusalem and put an end to it all—and level the city—and they did—and not one stone was left on another.

And when you hear of the Wailing Wall that all the tourists go see—that’s all that Rome left standing.

But Jesus was not grieving for that, but because His People having eyes could not see—having ears could not hear—and the Messiah for Whom they had waited for two thousand years was in their midst and they refused to recognize Him. Indeed—they rejected Him.

He was grieving for the loss of these countless souls who would never get the opportunity to learn from Him or love Him and be one with Him.

The tears welled up in His eyes because they would never be able to feed on the Food He was about to give them—never be able to nourish themselves on His Divine nourishment—never be able to consume the Bread of Life—His very Body and Blood.

And the saddest consequence of all would be that the Heaven—offered to them—and available to them by means of His Body and Blood—would be denied them.

Oh, there might be other ways they could get to heaven, but we don’t know how, and the most beautiful and mysterious and surest way was not to be theirs.

I am talking of course of our own reception of Holy Communion—where we take into our bodies and therefore into our souls, the true Body and Blood of the true Savior—Our Lord Jesus Christ.

He becomes our food, and in our receiving Him into ourselves—we become transformed in Him, and become one with Him.

That is what “Communion” means in Latin—“oneness with, union with”. And the union is with the Savior—the union is with Jesus—the union is with God Himself. I say this at every First Communion that I have celebrated in the last 30 years, but the aphorism that “we are what we eat” is so true when it comes to Holy Communion.

If the calcium and protein and carbohydrates that we consume in our food becomes our bones and muscles and nerves—how much more wonderfully that the Bread of Life—the Body of Christ—becomes the substance of our very souls so that those souls will resemble more and more closely Him Who is our God.

This is what people who do not receive Holy Communion miss—the daily or at least weekly nourishment to be strong in God—to be strong with God. It is the Bread of Life, the Body of Christ in Holy Communion that helps us in our struggles through this sometimes difficult life.

Holy Communion Keeps Us Strong
When everything and everyone seems to be against us and wants to make us weak and wants to bring us down, it is Holy Communion—Jesus within—that keeps us strong. When we are tempted to sin or to despair—it is Holy Communion—Jesus within—that keeps us strong and resilient. When we are ill and infirm and just feel awful and afraid, it is Holy Communion—Jesus within—that encourages us.

And then at the end of our lives, because we have spent our whole lives being transformed in Him, He recognizes Himself in us—“Ah this is one of my children.” This is what Holy Communion does for us—it is our union with Jesus, and therefore our passport to heaven.

Holy Communion happens only at Catholic Mass—not in any protestant or evangelical church—or in the churches who call themselves Christian as distinct from Catholic. Simply put—they do not have the Bread of Life.

Only at the moment the priest says, “This is My Body and this is My Blood” does the bread and wine—by a most marvelous miracle called “Transubstantiation”—change whole and entire into the Body and Blood of Jesus—whole and entire. There is no bread left on that altar—there is no wine left on that altar. And you will notice in the Latin Mass that the Consecration is whispered. It is the Ancient Church’s sense that this Consecration is so incredible—so huge—so mysterious—that it cannot be said loud enough or sung beautifully enough—so the Church always said, “Whisper… you are in the presence of God!” Well the Mass is where we get the Bread of Life. At the Mass, the sacrifice of the Cross from two thousand years ago is made present on our altar—in an un-bloody way. When we eat His Body and drink His Blood—we take part in that very sacrifice and God offers us heaven on earth—every time.

Do you see why we have Mass twenty-some times a week here? Because it is so wonderful for us! And do you see why Jesus wept for all the people who would never eat His Body and drink His blood and who would therefore die in their sins? What a tragedy.

I had a dream last night—someone was outside of Church and they were talking about Church rules and I overheard them to say in reference to some sacrament or other, “No, at this church you don’t have to make your First Communion.” And in the dream I said, “Yes you do have to make your first communion! And your second and third and millionth! How will you ever get to heaven without the nourishment that comes from the receiving the Body Christ?” It is not lucky bread—or little white chips. It is not some silly rule invented by some silly priest—it is God Himself—and without God—we cannot get to heaven.

We must receive Holy Communion worthily—We must fast from food for an hour—we must be in the state of grace—meaning we should have gone to confession for any serious sins.

And if you are not married in Church—you know you cannot receive Holy Communion. Let me explain that. Catholics must be married by a priest in Church—otherwise they are not considered married. For Catholics, Civil marriage in Court does not count—for Catholics other ministers in other religions do not count. To be considered married in the eyes of God, Catholics must swear before God and before the altar with a priest as witness that they will faithfully take care of each other and their children for the rest of their lives. If they do not do that—in Church—they are not married and therefore, for the obvious reasons, they cannot live together. And until they are married in Church they cannot receive Holy Communion. Talk to us if you are in that situation.

But if Jesus wept at the prospect of His people not being able to receive Him—because they could not receive Holy Communion—imagine His joy when we do receive Him—and receive often.

He will say to us, “Well done good and faithful servants, come into your rest.”

Preparing for a Good Death

The devotion to Our Lord of the Good Death is a beautiful and good tradition like praying to St. Joseph.

Yes, it speaks of death, as something that all of us must endure—but something that becomes the doorway to Eternal Life.

Our Faith teaches us that no one escapes death which is the ultimate punishment for the sin of Adam and Eve. In fact, Our Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, Himself suffered death—not for His own sake—but for our sake— that we would be saved from eternal death in hell with Satan.

The sad fact is that death is a terrible ordeal that we must endure. We all ask ourselves—every time that death occurs in our families: What will my death be like? Will it be scary? Will it be painful? Will it come quickly? Will it come slowly? Will I be conscious? Will it be instantaneous? Is it like traveling through space? When I come out the other side—who will be there to greet me? God? Jesus, Mary? The saints and Angels? My grandparents and ancestors?

And I am sure that the thought of death is even worse for people who are not Catholic and who do not believe in God. But thanks be to God who has told us of a world beyond this world—of a life beyond this life—that is happy and holy and beautiful and will last forever. And, thanks be to God, He has given us the way to get there—Jesus, the Church and the Sacraments.

Do this and we shall be saved. And that is where we get the devotion of the Good Death. A Good Death that would prevent us from going to hell—even if we might need some purification in Purgatory.

Three Beautiful Gifts
That is why it is so important to call for the priest when someone you love is seriously ill in the hospital or at home. Because the priest will come and he will give the person—as much as possible—three beautiful gifts that will ensure a Good Death.

Now when the priest walks in, he determines if the person is able to go to confession. If so, then Father will hear their confession in order to forgive their sins. This is very important, because if someone is conscious of serious sin—mortal sin— they must be absolved of that sin in order to receive the grace of any of the other sacraments. Then the priest gives the Holy Oils which are the Sacrament par excellence of the sick and the dying. They give the greatest possible amount of grace to the person’s soul. The grace from this sacrament gives us the strength and the courage we need just at the moment our souls are separating from our bodies.
After the Our Father is said, then Holy Communion is given to the dying person. This last Holy Communion is called Viaticum. It is no less than the Body of Christ and is the most wonderful food we can take on this journey from here to there. Now, I will be honest, these days, because of the advances of medical science, most people are too ill to receive either Confession or Holy Communion. By the time the priest is called, they can only passively receive the Oils of the Sick.

However—and this is so beautiful—if when the priest comes to us, and we are in a coma and cannot go to confession, and if before we went into the coma we were sorry for our sins, at least because we were afraid of going to hell (this is called imperfect contrition) then the Sacrament of the Sick, the Holy Oils, takes away our sins—as if it were confession! Our imperfect contrition is made perfect—And we are again in God’s good graces. And this even for mortal sins! And what is more—the priest gives us a Plenary Indulgence—a special gift from Our Lord (through the Church) that removes—as far as we can tell—of any time in Purgatory. I often hope that at the end of my life someone loves me enough to call for the priest so that I will receive all these graces and forgiveness from God.

And this is what we mean by a Good Death: A Good Death means that at the very end of our life on this earth, despite all our sins and weaknesses, despite all the ways in which we have hurt our neighbor and offended our God, a Good Death means that Jesus will be there with us—to hold our hand, stroke our brow, kiss our cheeks—to forgive us, console us, and encourage us. How beautiful—and how Catholic—that we should want no more of this life than to have a good death—because that means, then, an eternity of happiness with God.

A Crucifix Carved With Love

By Fr. Anthony Brankin

I am sure you have noticed the beautiful Shrine to Our Lord by the side altar. It is, of course, temporary, but that crucifix of Jesus is considered a miraculous image of Christ since countless prayers have been answered—and countless bodies healed and countless souls saved by prayers to the crucified Christ as portrayed here so beautifully and innocently.

This cross is so different from the silly, slick, plastic crosses we have to buy today, the one mass-produced in China—whose bodies of Jesus are so odd and twisty—so pink and pouty—so like He is dancing through the lilies at His feet! (What must those poor pagan Chinese factory workers who make these crosses for Americans think of our religion that we worship a God who looks so infantile and weak. Wow!) Well this cross was carved by hand by a village artist, perhaps 200 or 300 years ago. No, the artist never went to art school, but he surely believed deeply—very deeply. Just look at the love and compassion in Jesus’ half closed eyes, His mouth barely open. The one who fashioned this Jesus obviously loved His Lord very much. You can be sure that each stroke or chip, or cut of art was accompanied by a prayer. And the loin cloth—like Italian and Spanish statues (Latin) where the statue has real clothing is a little bigger than we usually see because the artist was trying to protect Jesus’ modesty even more.

This crucifix will soon be going home to Cotiro, Michoacan, Mexico, but I am sure the Image of Our Lord crucified will remain with us for a long time.