Have you given a gift, or received a gift, with those words? They are spoken in different ways: maybe with shyness, or firm commitment, or deep feeling. The same words can accompany a smile or tears, light moments or most profound ones. The eyes of the giver can speak volumes: generosity, care, hope, love. Rings are given this way; heirlooms; roses; trinkets. Sometimes the sentiment is not voiced but still felt deeply even after the giver is no longer present. The item may be commonplace or rare, but what matters about the gift is that it carries something — esteem, gratitude, love — from the heart of the giver.
About 38 years ago, I was in my third year of seminary at Rome’s North American College. Living a couple floors up was James, just ordained a deacon. We were friendly nodding acquaintances but had little regular interaction. So I was surprised by James’ knock on my door one afternoon. After pleasantries, he held out a package. “Here, I want you to have this.” Inside was the NAC deacon stole.
I don’t know if the custom still exists, but at the time, the NAC deacon stole was handed on year by year to someone in third year from a deacon about to return home. The newly ordained deacon made the selection of the next recipient solely at his own discretion, but with two understandings: first, that the stole was given for a year, in stewardship, to be handed on in turn; and second, that the recipient was to be a man of quiet perseverance and often understated potential. I dutifully handed on the stole when I left NAC in 1987 — apparently a sound choice, since that man is now a bishop — but that band of cloth unexpectedly entrusted to me for a time helped me to know and believe in myself in a new and better way.
A significant gift, especially a surprise, tends to inspire not only gratitude but responsibility. Recognizing that it is not ours by right, but by the kindness of another who sees something they value in us, makes us more careful to treat gifts well, to preserve them, to honor the giver by how we use the gift.
Such is the gift of our faith — the call to be the Body of Christ in the world, to receive and hand on the life of Jesus through the Church. Like that stole, the communion that is the Church is entrusted to us with a past history and a future mission. It precedes us with its rich past, and it is entrusted to us in stewardship to be handed on to those who follow. We honor the Giver by how we use the gift.
Eucharistic love is not given to keep as a possession, but to hand on so those around us, and those after us, may know and believe in themselves in a new and better way.
Though the words before we receive Communion are “The Body of Christ,” we can rightly hear Jesus say to us at that moment: “Here, I want you to have this.” The Eucharist is the supreme Gift of Jesus, given with divine and human love. The paten and chalice, containing the Body and Blood of the Lord, are vessels meant not to retain but to distribute. Eucharistic love is not given to keep as a possession, but to hand on so those around us, and those after us, may know and believe in themselves in a new and better way. In this very giving, we also receive, and we become more fully ourselves in the Body.
In the same action of Communion, Jesus is entrusting the mystery of the Church to us — the Scriptures, the sacraments, the people, the buildings, the contributions of time, talent and treasure. We can walk into our parish churches, into our schools, into Bible studies and meetings, into offices and youth groups, into the homes of those who are building the domestic Church in their families, and hear Christ handing on each of these gifts: “Here, I want you to have this.”
But there is more. Our opportunities to sacrifice, our questions, our uncertainties, our decisions: these are also gifts to us, though harder to recognize and not always neatly wrapped. Through them, too, we can come to know and believe in ourselves and one another in new and better ways.
As we enter deliberately into pastoral planning for the next phase of the Diocese of St. Cloud, we will experience change. We will know uncertainty. We will likely leave behind some things that have become familiar and dear to us, and be invited by the Spirit to accept unanticipated blessings, not always neatly wrapped. We will have a range of feelings, individually and as communities. Those we barely know may knock on our doors with gifts we did not expect.
In the Eucharist, no matter when or where it is offered, the Church becomes itself: the Body of Christ. This Gift has a past, at Calvary; it has a future, the Wedding Feast of the Lamb; and it is Jesus’ Presence in every Now. The next time you receive Communion, remember all that is contained in the Gift the Lord is entrusting to us. Listen for the timeless message under the words: “This is my Body, which is for you. Here, I want you to have this.”
Father Tom Knoblach is the pastor of Sacred Heart in Sauk Rapids and Annunciation in Mayhew Lake. He also serves as vicar for heath care ethics and vicar for clergy for the Diocese of St. Cloud.