The On-going Presence of Christ

Someone recently told me a remarkable story.  It seems that when the Pope went to New York, he was scheduled to say Mass in St. Patrick's Cathedral.  Before anyone was admitted to the Cathedral that morning, the bomb squad brought in their dogs to sniff out any danger that might be present in the church.  As soon as the dogs entered the Cathedral, they began to alert for the presence of a person, and continued to do so, despite the fact that no one could be found in the church.  Finally, the squad had to conclude that the dogs were mistaken -- but those who believed in the Eucharistic Presence of Jesus on the altar reached a different conclusion:  The dogs were reacting to Jesus, truly present with us, just as He promised:  I am with you, even to the consummation of the world.

This story has resonated with me.  Although I always believed in the Eucharistic Presence, now somehow, it seems different to me -- not just a "psychic" presence, as for example, when I feel the presence of a friend or relative who died some years ago -- but rather, a "real" Presence, just as we were always taught.  The grace of this realization actually changed Pope Pius X (1835-1914) in his ministry many years ago.

When he was elected to the papal office, he saw that the way he imagined and wanted and honored a pope was a far cry from what he himself could present.  He saw himself divided, full of shortcomings.  Although he was very committed to the well-being of the Church, he was permeated by weaknesses -- his prayer life was sometimes very tepid, for example.  He was deeply horrified by the election; he could not believe they were serious.  He figured there must have been some mistake.  He worried that he had presented a false image of himself, and that his words made him sound more significant than he truly was.  But then he thought this might be the opportunity to turn his life around.  He thought at first that by daily effort, he could change who he was, and he committed himself to this work, at first in the sense of what people called "a creditable performance."

But then it dawned on him:  The Presence of Christ can achieve anything.  Yesterday, I wrote that the Apostles knew that they were unlettered and ungifted in speech and personal charism -- but they also knew the Power of Jesus Christ present in them and working through them, beyond their personal gifts.  In the same way, Pius X realized that despite his personal weaknesses, a living, paternal Presence extended over the whole church, not as something earned or worked at by him, but in the sense of the Lord's Presence renewed and full of life.  Pius was but the instrument through whom Jesus governed his church. 

And now, the Eucharist appeared to him as the assurance of Christ's Presence to the church.  From that moment on, his prayer centered not on self-improvement, but on communion, centered around the power of this Presence.  Pius' effort was only to remain in the Presence of Christ; he tested everything through the reality of communion with Jesus.  This reality became so actual, so active, so deeply immersed in his mission that he became the "apostle of the Eucharist."  He saw the Power and the Love of Christ as descending from above in a living stream in which he was permitted to share.   Everything that he previously thought and reflected upon became unimportant to him, because nothing to him was more important than the real Presence of Christ with His church.  Instead of a program of self-improvement, he entered into the place of John, the Beloved Disciple who was a close friend of Jesus.  He began to experience in a living way the love of Jesus for the church, for His friends.

I remember as a child being told that before Pius X, people had to wait until their Confirmation to receive the Eucharist for the first time (around 12-13 years of age).  But Pius X was the one who lowered the age of reception to 7 years old, when a child could understand Who is this Jesus that he received in the host.  And I remember even as a young child being grateful to him for allowing me to receive communion in the first grade.

I have a friend whose father was an Episcopal priest.  One day, she was riding her bike past the Catholic church and decided to enter, to see what the church looked like on the inside.  That one visit so moved her that she decided to become a Catholic -- much like the experience of Thomas Merton many years before.  I have to wonder how many people have had that same experience.  When we Catholics grow up hearing about the "Real Presence" of Christ on the altar, it becomes all too familiar for us to believe it in a dynamic way.  Sometimes it takes a dog to teach us the truth!