In January of 2020, I, along with two other women, was asked to present a talk for the parents of children who were enrolled in our parish’s catechesis program. The subject was prayer. I remember very little of the specifics of what we presented, but I do recall one thing very clearly. I remember telling the parents that understanding the Scriptures was a gift, one which I personally did not possess, and would therefore consult companion guides as I faithfully studied the daily liturgical readings.
In March of that same year, churches closed, and the whole world was collectively shaken. Then a curious thing happened to me (and countless others). I don’t know exactly when, and I don’t know exactly how, but I went from reading Scripture . . . to receiving Scripture. The word of God for me became, in a sense, the daily Eucharist that I had become deprived of.
Years ago, my mother told me that when she read Scripture certain words would appear to be highlighted for her, or pop up off the page; it was an experience which I did not share at the time, nor fully understand. I am sure my mom didn’t mean that certain words were literally underlined in yellow or that they were actually floating in the air; but whatever her experience, I now understand the gist. The word of God is living and effective, and while our baptism makes us capable of accepting its truth, unless the Holy Spirit infuses its meaning into our hearts, we will not receive it. The life-giving grace that flows from the living word of God is not something we can take. It is something that must be given to us. What, then, does God call us to do until that time comes? He calls us to faithfully persevere in trying.
There are so many ingredients that go into bringing two people together in a solid marriage; it is a miracle that solid marriages exist at all! First, one must be attracted to the other person. Then, one must learn about the other person to see if they are of good moral character. Then one must decide if that other person’s interests, personality traits, hobbies, habits, beliefs, and way of doing things are all compatible with one’s own. Assuming one gets past all these hurdles and decides “It’s a yes for me,” there is still one last major obstacle left that the person is powerless to do anything about: the other person in the relationship must also discern all these things for themselves! Unless that other person reciprocates and gives of themselves in the same way, there is no relationship. Such is the vital and indispensable importance of the role of the Spirit in our understanding of Scripture.
So why does the Holy Spirit wait to shed His light of understanding? After all, in 2020, I had already been plugging away at the Scriptures for a number of years. Would it not have made more sense for the Lord to throw me a bone a little sooner? Maybe not. Maybe I would not have understood the connection between the Word and the Eucharist had I not received the gift of the one precisely at the moment I was deprived of the other. For the first time in my life, I did not view the Liturgy of the Word as the part of the Mass that was okay to zone out through until getting to the “important” part. The Word is Jesus, and therefore when we receive it, we receive Jesus Himself.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word WAS God. (Jn. 1:1)
Of course, in no way is this to minimize the Eucharist. The Eucharist is 100% Christ: body, blood, soul and divinity; it is the life-giving food for the soul, without which we cannot have eternal life.
I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my Flesh for the life of the world.
It’s just that believing Jesus is present in the Eucharist and experiencing His presence each time we receive Him are two different things. The former places us in a disposition to break out of a routine, disinterested, and doubtful reception of the Sacred Host; the latter is a gift that comes from the Holy Spirit, just like the understanding of Scripture. I would love to say I experience an explosion of grace each time I receive the Eucharist, but I cannot. I simply must keep plugging away, choosing to believe in something my senses tell me is impossible. I am not particularly amazed by the Eucharistic miracles that have been reported (such as bleeding hosts), because while I believe them, the Holy Spirit simply has not given me the gift to understand them. I still need a “companion guide” to explain it to me. But that’s okay. I already know what the Spirit can do when one perseveres in being faithful to Him. If He is waiting to grant me that grace, I trust that it is for a good reason.
The Apostles were graced with the understanding of the Scriptures and the comprehension of Jesus in the Eucharist. They were so in tune with the Lord that they could clearly hear and understand His direction, whether it came by way of an angel or by way of the Spirit Himself. But let’s realize one thing. While those graces were freely given, that is not to say they did not come with a price. That price was Jesus crucified, and therefore, His holy apostles would partake in that same “dying to self” from that day forth. Theirs was a life of sacrifice, of suffering.
If our goal is likewise to share in Christ’s glory, then we must know this: there is no other way to obtain it than by partaking in His suffering too. Perhaps there is a good reason that Jesus has us wait to receive His gifts, after all. Perhaps it is simply that He is gentle. Perhaps instead of being in quite such a rush to receive what we have coming, for now, let’s just be grateful for what God has already given us, and let’s trust that He knows what He is doing. Paradoxically, it is patient gratitude and trust that, in the end, usher in His grace.
Finally, let’s not avoid His grace for fear of the cross that we may be made to carry. For one thing, right now Jesus is preparing our hearts so that we face whatever is coming with peace—and even with joy! And for another thing, His love far outweighs the weight of any difficulties we must bear, such that when we one day look back, we would willingly do it all over again for the sake of our sanctification and for the salvation of souls.
Author’s Note: Excerpt from The Safe Haven: Scriptural Reflections for the Heart and Home (Season of Easter). To purchase, visit Amazon or The Catholic Company, where all other volumes currently in print are also available.
Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash
