Solemnity of Corpus Christi

I recall attending a retreat, and the presenter spoke about how we Catholics tend not to think in terms of having a personal relationship with our Lord. He said that our liturgical prayer, which is communal in nature, gives us a clear sense that we are not in this alone—we together are a Body of Christ. We get that, but what about a personal relationship?

Let’s face it: in the age of social media, mere contact through the computer qualifies as a relationship. But doesn’t a meaningful relationship demand a certain amount of personal sacrifice from both parties? Doesn’t it demand that each makes time for the other, is there for the other, conveys a desire to know the other and to make one’s self known? Doesn’t a personal relationship call for trust and willingness to be vulnerable?

Sometimes we can think God is so far away and so different than ourselves, that a relationship is not a reality. What we celebrate today tells us the beautiful dimension of our faith, manifest in the Eucharist, revealing to us that God doesn’t want to be distant and other. He came to us as tender infant wrapped in swaddling clothes, and today comes to us in the delicate, humble and altogether simple form of bread, allowing us to hold him to and to make a home for him within ourselves.

He makes himself vulnerable to us, but a true relationship demands our willingness to also be vulnerable. Maybe it’s fair to say that it’s part of what keeps our relationships from thriving. Even as we desire so much to be known, we also fear it. We fear being vulnerable, we fear being hurt, whether it’s with friends, a spouse or even God. We fear that if any of these see us for who we really are, they may not like what they see, and that it would give way to rejection. Fear, indeed, holds us back and keeps us from being truly alive and loved.

But God says to us, You needn’t fear. I see you in your brokenness, I know our failures and mistakes, and I love you no less because of any of it. It’s St. John, in his First Letter, who so beautifully tells us, “Beloved…love is of God…(and) God is love….There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear because fear has to do with punishment, and so one who fears is not yet perfect in love” (1 John 4:7,8,18).

May that assurance draw us out, because it’s in allowing ourselves to be vulnerable and thus to be known, that we then come to greater self-awareness and freedom. But even more, may the pledge of love that comes to us dressed as bread, penetrate our hearts and open our eyes to the beautiful truth. As St. Paul once said, “At present we see indistinctly, as in a mirror, but then face to face. At present I know partially; then I shall know fully, as I am fully known” (1 Cor 13:12).

This solemnity calls us to rejoice in the fact that the God who created the heavens, the universe and all it holds, comes to us and makes Himself vulnerable. His Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity—is made manifest for a reason: to be in personal relationship with us, to love us. The fact is, it doesn’t get much more personal than this.