As thousands of Catholics from around the United States prepare for the National Eucharistic Congress this week, I wonder how the experience will translate into the lived experience of worshiping communities “back home.” As Christians, we must be willing to be formed by Eucharist into who and whose we are called to be. And while all we do is a response to God’s invitation and self-gift, there is still some work to be done on our end.
In his recent book, Fire of Life, Water of Love: Exploring the Meaning and the Beauty of the Easter Vigil, Goffredo Boselli writes: “A community capable of celebrating cannot be improvised; it is developed over time through education, patience, and attention.”[1]
To be clear, improvisation in this sense does not mean changing the words or ritual actions to somehow make them more appealing. Rather, improvisation in this sense suggests an apathetic passiveness. But this is nothing new. Romano Guardini addressed this reality more than fifty years ago, noting that “participation…must be practiced.”[2] Guardini continues,
There is a much-aired opinion that only the prayer and religious act rising involuntarily from within are genuine. This is erroneous. Prayer and religious action are life. But life consists only partly in spontaneous actions; most of life is service and conscious effort, both at least important as impulsive activity.[3]
How do we balance this spontaneity and consciousness? How do we practice participation in the liturgy? At the risk of sounding naïve and overly simplistic, I believe creation narratives model an approach through intentionality, integration, and cooperation. Our liturgical acts must be intentional, integrated, and in cooperation with the ongoing salvific work of God.
Intentionality
In the very first words of Genesis, we learn that the act of creation is intentional. From the beginning when the earth was without shape or form, with only darkness and wind sweeping over the waters, God chooses to engage the light and water. Specifically, God harnesses the power contained in these everyday elements, transforming them into agents of life: “Let the earth bring forth vegetation: every kind of plant that bears seed and every kind of fruit tree on earth that bears fruit with its seed in it” (Genesis 1:11). Under the right conditions, the ordinary becomes extraordinary. While each is important on their own, it is only when the water and light come together that the proper conditions for life are established.
The same is true for us in liturgy. We each come separately, bearing our own gifts and experiences and hopes and anxieties. But we do not celebrate as isolated individuals. Rather, liturgy is the time we come together in response to God’s invitation. New life is possible because of this assembling. For this reason, the General Instruction of the Roman Missal (GIRM) notes that the primary purpose of the introductory rites at Mass is “to ensure that the faithful who come together as one establish communion” (46). There is something new, something greater, when individuals assemble into community. We must be able to name and recognize this reality if we are to become a community capable of celebrating liturgy.
Integration
In addition to creating the necessary conditions for new life, the arrangement and separation of light and dark allows for a way to mark the passage of time through days and seasons: “Then God said: Let there be lights in the dome of the sky, to separate the day from night. Let them mark the seasons, the days and the year, and serve as lights in the dome of the sky to illuminate the earth. And so it happened.” (Genesis 1:14-15).
The integration of days and seasons might seem to initiate a way of sanctifying time. However, time is already sanctified by the creative act of God. The creation of days and seasons is instead an invitation to participate in the paschal mystery, to unite ourselves in the life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus. We all experience moments of joy and hope and excitement, just as we all experience moments of sadness, abandonment, and loss. But we do not experience these alone. Rather, we are united with the days and seasons of life in Christ. We are united not with time but with a person.
Cooperation
Finally, we must remember that creation is not a historical event relegated to the past. In her brilliant commentary on Genesis, Kathleen O’Connor writes,
More than recording history, Genesis intervenes in history. It speaks of beginnings to incite hope among Israel’s remnant that they too might begin again. The book offers a theology of beginnings to a people flattened by invasions, displacements, and the strong possibility that they will disappear among the prevailing empires. Its overarching purpose is to convince its audience that the Creator of the cosmos and of all that exists is recreating them now.[4]
The act of creation is ongoing, and God invites each of us to participate in the creation and recreation of the world. The kingdom of God is both “here” and “not yet.” While we wait for the fulfillment of the kingdom, we must cooperate with God to create a world rooted in justice and peace. We must work to uphold the voices of people who are too often ignored. We must create space for our brothers and sisters who are underrepresented in our church and world. We must denounce all forms of hatred and violence, including racism and sexism and homophobia and xenophobia. We must be willing to create like God creates – out of love and for love.
National Eucharistic Congress
As thousands of Catholics come together in Indianapolis, Indiana this week for the National Eucharistic Congress, I remain hopeful that participation in the Eucharist will not be reduced to some passive piety. When I titled my book Pope Francis on Eucharist: 100 Daily Mediations for Adoration, Prayer, and Reflection (Liturgical Press, 2023), I was intentional to exclude the word “the” before Eucharistic. I believe the article “the” limits the idea of Eucharist to a noun rather than a lived reality. It is Pope Francis on Eucharist, not Pope Francis on the Eucharistic.
Entering the eucharistic mystery requires intentionality, integration and cooperation. This is the reality of the Incarnation where God literally becomes human so that humans might more intimately know God. As Guardini reminds us, “The true congregation is a gathering of those who belong to Christ, the holy people of God, united by faith and love. Essentially, it is of his making, a piece of new creation, which finds expression in the bearing of its participants.”[5]
This is my prayer this week for all who will participate in the National Eucharistic Congress. I hope it may be a gathering of those who belong to Christ united by faith and love who are willing to participate in the creative work of God.
[1] Goffredo Boselli, Fire of Love, Water of Life: Exploring the Meaning and the Beauty of the Easter Vigil (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2024), 4.
[2] Romano Guardini, Meditations before Mass (Notre Dame, IN: Ave Maria Press, 2024), 27.
[3] Romano Guardini, Meditations before Mass (Notre Dame, IN: Ave Maria Press, 2024), 27.
[4] Kathleen M. O’Connor, Genesis 1-25A (Macon, GA: Smyth & Helwys, 2018), 3.
[5] Romano Guardini, Meditations before Mass (Notre Dame, IN: Ave Maria Press, 2024), 74.