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
