Sunday, June 14, 2009

Mass in Solitary Confinement

Homily for the Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ, Year B
Exodus 24.3-8 Psalm 116 Hebrews 9.11-15 Mark 14.12-16, 22-26

From 1975 until 1988, the late Archbishop Francis Xavier Nguyen van Thuan lived in a Communist re-education camp in Vietnam. He was arrested shortly after being named Archbishop of Saigon. For nine of the years he was imprisoned, Archbishop Francis was in solitary confinement. After being released, he was often asked whether he had been able to celebrate Mass while he was in prison. For a priest, the Eucharist is the most important thing we do, and to be forced to go for so many years without attending or celebrating Mass can be one of the most painful punishments imaginable. As it turns out, Archbishop Francis was able to celebrate Mass in prison, even in solitary confinement. The day after he was arrested, he was allowed to write to friends to send him the things he needed most, like clothes and toothpaste. He also asked for a little wine, as medicine for his bad stomach. His friends knew what he was really asking for. They sent him some wine in a bottle, marked “stomach medicine,” and they hid some hosts inside a flashlight. After Archbishop Francis received these supplies, each day he would celebrate Mass with three drops of wine in the palm of his hand, and a piece of host from the flashlight container. He also made a tiny tabernacle out of a discarded cigarette carton and was able to pray all day in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament. The Archbishop always celebrated Mass around 3:00 in the afternoon, the hour when Jesus died on the cross. As he ate and drank the Body and Blood of Christ, he became one with Christ in his sufferings, knowing that he would also one day share in Christ’s joys. He says that these Masses in solitary confinement were the most beautiful ones of his whole life.*

Last weekend, three men were ordained to the priesthood for the Archdiocese of Indianapolis: Fr. John Hollowell, Fr. Jeremy Gries, and Fr. Peter Marshall. In two weeks, two more men will be ordained priests for our diocese: soon-to-be Fr. Sean Danda and Fr. Chris Wadelton. And this Friday, June 19, Pope Benedict will inaugurate an International Year for Priests. Much as we have spent the past year focusing on St. Paul, the Holy Father is asking Catholics to spend the coming year focusing on priests, celebrating Christ’s gift of the priesthood, and helping all of us better understand the importance and role of the priest in the life of the Church. At the ordination Mass this past weekend, our own Archbishop Daniel used the story of Archbishop Francis and his Masses in solitary confinement as a model of what it means to be a priest. This story may be an extreme example – it’s certainly not the norm these days – but it does help us understand both the life of the priest and the importance of the Eucharist.

As priests, our lives are centered on the Eucharist – the most important thing we do each day is stand in the person of Christ, joining our voices to His as we say, “This is my body … this is my blood.” During the time he spent in solitary confinement, the only connection Archbishop Francis had with the world was through prayer and the Eucharist. The Eucharist he celebrated on the prison floor, the Blood of Christ held in the palm of his hand, united him on a spiritual and divine level to every Mass celebrated throughout the world. Without the Eucharist, he would have been much more radically alone. As priests, our ministry starts with the Mass, but it doesn’t end there – the Eucharist is just a beginning. After being released from prison, Archbishop Francis worked in the Vatican Council for Peace and Justice, trying to make sure that the unjust imprisonment he endured would not happen to anyone in the future. The particular ministry of each priest is unique. But together with all the faithful, priests strive to be the compassionate Christ to the suffering, the teaching Christ to the young, the blessing Christ to the newly baptized or married, the listening Christ to the lost, and the presence of Christ to the lonely. We start with the Mass – whether in a parish church or in solitary confinement – but then we take Christ into the world – through prayer, through presence, and through service. Would any men like to join us?

* Story from Five Loaves and Two Fish, Archbishop Francois-Xavier Nguyen van Thuan, Washington, DC: Morley Books, 2000 (p. 41-47).

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