Decades

The decahedral vaulted nave
of Saint Gereon Church in Cologne has ten sides,
which makes it just like one decade,
and one of a kind in my experience.

Now once I mention decades it would be perfectly laudable if you were to assume that I am speaking of the Most Holy Rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary.  Indeed, the mysteries associated with the ten-counts of Hail Mary should be foremost in our minds in this month that we began by crowning Our Lady in the church.  But my reference is less pious, and honestly less impressive than the mysteries of our salvation in the life of the Divine Son of the Holy Virgin.

Before we kicked off the Month of Our Lady here last weekend with First Holy Communion and the May Procession, I slipped away to the southern Shenandoah Valley to the scene of my undergraduate education.   That effort was completed four decades ago, and I spent a few days enjoying the beauty of the place and the company of classmates and faculty in my reunion.  All the attention was heaped on the classes marking fifty and twenty-five years, but the keynote speaker for the kickoff was one of us, so we got the spotlight for a minute.  He was both affectionate and brutal, calling us out on a few things of which we might not choose to boast.  He did, however, ratify my recollection that classes were really hard.

Four decades is nothing to sneeze at and was a good reason to travel, but how about five?  Later this week I will slip away for an overnight in Wheeling, West Virginia, for the golden jubilee of priestly ordination for Bishop Mark Brennan.  Originally a Washington priest, he served as Vocations Director here when I first applied as a tentative and possible future priest.  That’s a pretty important role in the unfolding of my vocation, and like many of my peers I remain quite fond of him.  Now, you might suggest that a trip to Wheeling is hardly a posh vacation, but don’t forget that my dad’s family is from there and I am happy to have the occasion to revisit the place of many happy memories of my grandparents.  My hotel will be across the creek from the campus where my parents first met.   

Four decades and five, now how about two?  Later this month our own Father Larry Swink will achieve the twenty-year mark since he was ordained a priest of Jesus Christ.  A local boy in the truest sense – he grew up just up the road – it is good that he is at home now here with us.  Be alert for an opportunity to celebrate his priesthood later this month; Saint Bernadette is the best at throwing a party, but we are still pulling it together.

Four, five, and two decades, no small measure of time and life.  This is the function of the decades of the rosary, too, which mark out the events in the life of Our Lord at the same time they measure the minutes and meaning of our own.  Every day and every life reveal the love of God in the working out of His Divine will, our salvation, so the distinction between types of decades fruitfully blurs.

The gratitude that is the fruit of such reflective counting brings us back around to the beginning of the lives for which we are grateful, and on this Mother’s Day there is no more fitting gift and celebration than to offer a Rosary for our Mom and her intentions.  Five decades cannot be better spent.

Monsignor Smith

Priority

The first communion on the road

Which came first? is the opening line in an ancient riddle.   This weekend, first things come to mind.  It is the most beautiful weekend of the year as the seasons announce life coming back to the earth, and our children present themselves to receive for the first time the Author of Life Himself.  It is the time of First Holy Communion.

This is a great and glorious instant in the lives of our first communicants and their families, but that very first-ness brings both excitement and promise – promise of more, promise of second and third and beyond.  There is a lot of first-ness to be found in our relationship with Jesus.

The first thing the Church did, back before she even knew herself to be the Church, back when she became the Church, in fact how she became the Church, was to celebrate the Eucharist.  The disciples who had encountered the risen Lord on the first day of the week, then again eight days later, continued to worship God on this new day in a new way.  Not with Sabbath-worship on the seventh day, but with thanksgiving to God, and the breaking of the bread, on the first day.

The Sacred Scriptures describe this first action of grace, so they themselves clearly come later, that is, not first.  Communion with Jesus is the root and foundation of the Church, first when He passed through locked doors to say and give “Peace to you,” then as the Apostles anointed with the Spirit took bread and did this in memory of Him, saying, “This is my body.”

It is clear that to be in the Church, to live the life of grace, we need that communion – our bodies to be in union with this glorious body. This must come first, before we can even hope or attempt to do “what Jesus would do.”  Before the doing, before the imitating, there must be something else there, first.

This firstness is not, of course, something that the Church could make or take, but that Christ himself must and did give.  The firstness of this giving is essential to the communion, for it cannot be earned or bought or won.  Communion is necessarily something for us to receive, and the first foot forward is that of Him who gives.  Look at the faces of the children who come.  They bring nothing but their receptivity to what they He will give, and to Him Who gives.   Having received they return, their eyes alight with the gift to Whom they give their own flesh.

Also this month we celebrate the first giving of flesh, as we mark or devotion to our mother Mary, who gave her flesh to Him who became flesh and dwells among us.  This first giving is the first first communion, as God Himself, the Eternal Word, took flesh, and dwelt in the tabernacle, the Tower of Ivory that is His most pure mother.  For the unique response to the giving God is likewise to give, which makes room for that great first giving.  No one has done it better, but we all strive to imitate what she did, to give our flesh to be one with His flesh, to renew what she did first.

It is my hope that giving these first Communions to these receptive and rejoicing communicants is to kindle not nostalgia for something that was and will be no more, but delight and desire for what is coming into being, and what will be done.   Not only I, but parents, and grandparents, neighbors, friends, and cousins, all watch and see and smile, knowing the momentousness of this meeting, the union of heaven and earth in an innocent soul.

It is my hope that this also be their desire, as well as mine: to enjoy that same moment, not the firstness, but the communion.  That desire itself is a gift, given freely and without prejudice, nurtured in all who would receive, who would take the gift by giving themselves, giving their flesh to Him whose flesh gives life; to know, to enjoy, to experience this same second that comes second, flowing forth from the gift of God, who came first.

Monsignor Smith