THE GREAT COMFORTER

A SERMON FOR THE 4TH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER

Today is the Fourth Sunday after Easter.  Four Sundays already since Our Lord’s glorious Resurrection from the dead, and only a week and a half to go before his equally glorious Ascension into heaven.  Not long now before Our Lord leaves this world to go back to his Father.  These are the twilight times, the last golden days of Our Lord’s earthly visitation, when the Son of God was born of the Virgin Mary, the Divine Word was made flesh, and dwelt amongst us.  In the Gospel he is preparing his apostles for his departure, his return to his Father in heaven.  They know it is getting late and that he cannot stay with them much longer. They are saddened by their master’s imminent departure, and seek to cling to him, like a little boy whose mother has to leave him for a while.  “Abide with me, fast falls the eventide.”  The darkness gathers, and if we are well attuned to the Church’s liturgy, we too will feel that twinge of sadness, that sense of imminent loss.

But make no mistake.  This is no death watch.  Christ has died already.  And on the third day he rose again from the dead.  And so he consoles his disciples that his departure will not be one of sorrow, but that he will rise in glory to the sound of the trumpet.  He consoles them that unless he depart from this world and return to heaven, they will not be able to receive the Holy Ghost:  “It is expedient for you that I go away,” he says. “For if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you; but if I depart, I will send him unto you.”  The disciples had no idea what Our Lord was talking about.  Who was this “Comforter” who would come unto them after Our Lord had left them?  They did not know that Christ was telling them about the coming of the Holy Ghost at Pentecost, that the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity would descend upon them with his sevenfold gifts.

To be honest, the apostles had other things on their mind.  This promise that Our Lord made to them in today’s Gospel was actually not made just before his Ascension.  Christ made these promises in a far different context.  It was in fact the night of the Last Supper. They had just eaten their last meal with their Lord before he was betrayed by one of their own, Judas, to be led away to die on Calvary.  This was not a happy time for the apostles, and it is unlikely they were able to concentrate too clearly on this future promise of a Comforter.  And so, and possibly in part for this very reason, Our Lord gave them another gift that night.  He knew they needed to be comforted now.  Not just later after his Ascension.  But now when all the horror of the Great Night of Darkness was about to descend, here, now, was the need for comfort.

Thus was instituted the great Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist.  “This is my Body,” said Our Lord that same night. "My Body that is given for you. This do in remembrance of me.”  Not content with sending us the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity, the Holy Spirit, the Comforter, Christ left us his own Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity in the Holy Eucharist.  The next day, Christ the Eternal High Priest would sacrifice that same Body and Blood to his Father in heaven.  But first he would establish the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, in which that same Body and Blood would be offered daily on the altars of his Holy Catholic Church throughout the ages.  The very same sacrifice as on Calvary, identical, except for the shedding of blood. The same priest, Christ the High Priest. The same Body and Blood of the same Our Lord Jesus Christ, offering the same sacrifice to the same God in heaven. Bringing with it a continuation of the graces and merits that flowed from his sacred wounds on Good Friday.

This, my dear faithful, is the lesson we have before us today.  Not just a Gospel story.  But the reality of what Christ speaks in the Gospel.  We have here a gift so great that we can never comprehend its magnitude.  A gift from the very height and breadth and depth of the infinite God.  A gift from the Sacred Heart of Jesus.  A gift for you and for many, unto the remission of your sins.

I won’t waste your time by reminding you of how our brethren in the conciliar Church have come to treat this greatest of all gifts.  How they chatter away in their churches, clapping their hands, hugging each other, dancing even, all dressed up in their jeans and t-shirts, ready in the depths of their mortal sins to grab the Host from the painted fingernails of some Eucharistic mini-skirted minister.  I don’t need to remind you of what you have already rejected.  Pray for these poor deluded children of God, for they have no idea of what they do.

But what about us?  Let us not even think about congratulating ourselves just because we do not act like gorillas in the presence of God.  We owe more to him than that.  It takes more than wearing a mantilla to be worthy of receiving this Sacrament.  More than putting on your Sunday best, more even than all your fasting and all your prayers.  It takes everything we have, and then it isn’t enough.  So who then shall approach this altar to receive this gift today?  Who considers himself worthy, good enough, to receive Our Lord in Holy Communion?  But let us call to mind the last words we hear before we approach the Communion table to receive Our Lord on our tongue: “Domine, non sum dignus.”  O Lord, I am not worthy.  None of us is worthy.  But God commands us to approach nevertheless.  “Say but the word, and my soul shall be healed.”  By the very act of receiving Holy Communion we are healed. We must never think lightly of receiving Holy Communion.  But neither must we fear to approach.  

The Church requires only three things for you to receive Holy Communion: that you are a baptized Catholic, that you are fasting according to the rules with which you are all familiar, and that you are in a state of sanctifying grace.  We are very familiar with these rules, and I hope none of us would even think of receiving Holy Communion right after eating, or worse yet, in a state of mortal sin.  And by the way, while we’re on the subject, let me just remind you that some of you may be in danger of committing a mortal sin very soon.   Easter Duty!  It binds under pain of mortal sin, don’t forget!  There are only a few weeks left now for you to perform this Easter Duty of Confession and Communion.  Make sure you take care of this and don’t leave it till the last minute.

Now let me ask you another question.  It’s a good question, and one which we hear often enough.  You probably think you have the answer too, but I’d just like to add a few thoughts to the standard response, and then you can see where it leads you.

The question is “how can I best attend Mass?”  “What is the best way of participating in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass?”  Many of the popes have taught us through the ages that the faithful should not just attend the Mass, passively, like mindless sheep grazing in the pasture. You are exhorted to take part in the Mass.  And here of course comes that standard response I mentioned, namely that the best way of attending Mass is by silently but attentively reading with the priest the words of the missal.  Especially the propers of the Mass which vary according to the feast, and which are in keeping with the spirit of the feast or liturgical season.  I cannot stress to you enough the importance of doing this. For many of you it will be enough. But for others it may be just the springboard from which your soul may rise up to contemplate the very essence of what is happening, the renewal of the Sacrifice of Calvary, the re-opening of the Sacred Heart of Jesus from which all blessings flow.  Use a brief passage to focus on, and then be transported into the presence of God, to the very foot of the Cross.  Just as the Blessed Mother participated in her Son’s Sacrifice on Calvary.  Hers was no passive attendance, just standing there watching and feeling depressed. Our Lady united herself with her Son’s intentions, offering him to God the Father as he himself did.  We can share in the role of the priest in some way, by offering this divine Victim to God the Father.  Be careful here.  The Novus Ordo has taken this concept and exaggerated it in such a way as to increase the role of the people, substituting it for the ordained priest (think of those horrible Offertory processions where some well-meaning elderly couple or scantily clad teenagers bring up the “gifts” to the altar, think of those Eucharistic ministers again, priest facing the people instead of towards God, reception of Holy Communion in the un-anointed hands of the non-ordained). But there is still a way for you to participate in this priesthood, simply by joining the priest in offering Our Divine Saviour to Our Father in heaven.

A sacrifice requires not just a priest but also a victim.  And I hardly need to point out that the Novus Ordo doesn’t pay much attention to this aspect of participation in their New Mass.  But in the true Sacrifice of the Mass, of course the Victim is the Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, the “Salutaris Hostia”, the Victim of Salvation.  But this same Lamb of God tells us “Take up your cross and follow me.” We are called too to be victims on our own crosses, our very own Calvaries.  When we pray the first Sorrowful Mystery of the Rosary, when we reallypray it, do we not dare to say the words of Our Lord, “Please, take this chalice of suffering away from me, nevertheless not my will but thine be done.”  Do we not dare to agree to accept whatever crosses God gives us?  And how are those Crosses?  Do they hurt?  Of course they do.  If they didn’t they wouldn’t be crosses.  It’s always so amazing, isn’t it, how we all recite the Our Father: “Thy will be done”, or the Angelus “Be it done unto me according to thy word,” and then complain when God answers our prayer and those heavy crosses are placed upon our shoulders. But this is one of the most effective ways there are to participate in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.  It’s a real participation.  You are offering yourself as a victim, sharing in the suffering of Our Lord, participating in his Sacrifice.   When the priest turns round to you after the Offertory, and says to you “Orate, fratres”, take a look at the words that follow in the Missal: “Pray, brethren, that my sacrifice and yours, may be acceptable unto God, the Father Almighty.”

Make your attendance at Mass on Sunday the great highlight of your week. Not because of the nice music, the beautiful ceremonies, or because you like the smell of incense, or you get to see your friends.  But because it is your great opportunity actually to take part in the Sacrifice of Redemption, offering Our Lord and your very being itself, to God for the salvation of mankind.  Surely, that beats anything else you do during the course of the week?  This is the gift of the Mass, and when Our Lord departs from this earth on Ascension Thursday, and the Light of the World as represented by the Paschal Candle, is extinguished one last time, this gift abides, on our altars, at the Mass, waiting for you.