Even the demons believe… in the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist

It was almost 15 years ago. I was At Old St. Mary’s here in D.C. celebrating Mass in the Latin (Extraordinary Form). It was a solemn high Mass. I don’t suppose I thought it any different than most Sunday’s but something quite amazing was about to happen.

As you may know the ancient Latin Mass is celebrated “ad orientem” (towards the Liturgical East). Priest and people all face one direction. What this means practically for the celebrant is that the people are behind him. It was time for the consecration. The priest is directed to bow low, his forearms on the altar table the host between his fingers.

As directed I said the venerable words of Consecration in a low but distinct voice, Hoc est enim Corpus meum (For this is my Body). The bells rang as I genuflected.

But behind me a disturbance of some sort, a shaking or rustling in the front pews behind me to my right. And then a moaning or grumbling. What was that? It did not really sound human, more like the grumbling of a large animal such as a boar or a bear, along with a plaintive moan that did not seem human. I elevated the host and wondered, “What was that?” Then silence. I could not turn to look easily for that is awkward for the celebrant in the ancient Latin Mass. But still I thought, What was that?

But it was time for the consecration of the chalice. Again, bowing low and pronouncing clearly and distinctly but in a low voice: Hic est enim calix sanguinis mei, novi et æterni testamenti; mysterium fidei; qui pro vobis et pro multis effundetur in remissionem pecatorum. Haec quotiescumque feceritis in mei memoriam facietis (for this is the cup of my Blood, of the new and eternal covenant; the mystery of faith; which will for the many be shed unto the remission of sins. When so ever you do this, you do it in my memory).

Then, I heard another sound this time an undeniable moan and then a shriek as some one cried out: “Leave me alone Jesus! Why do you torture me!” Suddenly a scuffling as some one ran out with the groaning sound of having been injured. The back doors swung open, then closed. Then silence.

Realization – I could not turn to look for I was raising the Chalice high over my head. But I knew in an instant that some poor demon-tormented soul had encountered Christ in the Eucharistic, and could not endure his real presence displayed for all to see. And the words of Scripture occurred to me: Even Demons believe and tremble (James 2:19).

Repentance – But just as James used those words to rebuke the weak faith of his flock I too had to repent. Why was a demon-troubled man more aware of the true presence and astonished by it than me? He was moved in the negative sense to run. Why was I not more moved in a positive and comparable way? What of the other believers in the pews? I don’t doubt that any of us believed intellectually in the true presence. But there is something very different and far more wonderful in being moved to the depth of your soul! It is so easy for us to be sleepy in the presence of the Divine, forgetful of the miraculous and awesome Presence available to us.

But let the record show that one day, almost 15 years ago, it was made quite plain to me that I held in my hands the Lord of Glory, the King of heaven and earth, the just Judge, and Ruler of the kings of the earth. Is the Lord truly present in the Eucharist? You’d better believe it, even demons believe that!

By Msgr. Charles Pope – Archdiocese of Washington – To read more from Msgr. Pope, click here.

Why Genuflect? Kneeling in Mass and Adoration

When a man is proud, he stands tall; his posture reflects his self-perception. When a good man (one who is not suffering with excessive pride) is in the presence of greatness, he knows to humble himself whether it be in posture or expression.  His instinct is to lower himself and he, in some way, knows to acknowledge the greatness before him and to adjust his heart, and height, downward.  The difficulty with modern culture is that without Kings and Queens, we don’t know what to do with this instinct.  As well, we are taught from our youth to be independent, to question authority, to never consider another as more important than we are – never to bring ourselves low as Jesus did when he washed the disciples feet.

The only place in modern western culture (outside of Church) where we still occasionally kneel is when men propose marriage (though it seems even this noble custom is fading).  Why does a man do this?  Because he knows that this posture expresses reverence and love toward his desired bride.  It communicates that he holds her in high esteem and is willing to lower himself to her judgment, to serve her, to honor her.

So, when we kneel in Church the sentiment expressed in this gesture should be in keeping with all of these good instincts. Stop for a moment and imagine if you were suddenly drawn into the presence of the King of Kings.  What would happen to the heart, soul, and body of any person of good-will? Scripture indicates that even holy men are inclined to fall to the ground in the face of Ultimate Holiness or its representatives. Scripture also points out that eventually “every knee shall bow…” (Romans 14:11) whether now, or at the final judgment.

With these perspectives in mind how should we practice kneeling or genuflection in a way that is consistent with our understanding and desire?

It is pretty simple really.  When we are in a Catholic Church, we are in the presence of  the King of Kings; so, we should act like it. In that light, would a sweeping mindless and lighting fast non-committal bend or quick jerk of the knee toward the floor suffice? The key question for all of us really is, what would we do if we really believed what we were in the presence of God Almighty?

As with everything in our lives, we can use our circumstances, our gifts, our work, or any capability we have to bring us closer to God.  The key is the disposition of our hearts and the commensurate exercise of our will. Here’s a proposed approach for the next time we walk into a Church:

1. Approach the sanctuary slowly – don’t rush in to find a seat – instead enter in to worship.
2. Recognize where you are and focus on that reality.  Look to the tabernacle and acknowledge you are before the King of Kings.
3. Move your body in a way that expresses what is real in your heart and mind – or at least what you desire to be real. Stop and kneel – right knee – all the way down to the floor and pause for a second.  Say a prayer honoring Him – the “glory be” is good prayer, or just say “thank you Lord, help me know and honor you.”  Make the sign of the cross, and slowly rise and then kneel again in the pew to further prepare your heart for your encounter with God.

With respect to norms, the Church provides us with several opportunities to practice reverence and prayer in this way before, during, and after each mass (at least for those who are physically able):

Always Before the Blessed Sacrament:

The Ceremonial of Bishops states it beautifully and simply (CB 69).

“A genuflection, made by bending only the right knee to the ground, signifies adoration, and is therefore reserved for the Blessed Sacrament, whether exposed or reserved in the tabernacle…”

Inaestimabile Donum also reflects on this beautiful expression and the related disposition of the heart (ID 26)

“This venerable practice of genuflecting before the Blessed Sacrament, whether enclosed in the tabernacle or publicly exposed, as a sign of adoration, is to be maintained. This act requires that it be performed in a recollected way. In order that the heart may bow before God in profound reverence, the genuflection must be neither hurried nor careless.” (ID 26)

Before and after Mass – It is the norm to genuflect when passing before the Blessed Sacrament in the tabernacle (every time before mass).  The Ceremonial of Bishops (CB 71) says,

“No one who enters a Church should fail to adore the Blessed Sacrament either by visiting the Blessed Sacrament chapel or at least by Genuflecting. Similarly those who pass before the Blessed sacrament genuflect, except when they are walking in procession.”

The simple act of bending the knee, when turned from an empty motion into one that expresses heartfelt reverence, will properly guide our hearts to worship in a way that is personally fruitful and truly pleasing to Him. As well, it will aid in the proper disposition of our hearts to be better prepared to receive the greats gifts He has in store for us in the mass or adoration.

How do I make mass a more positive experience?

Q. Dear Father John, What is the difference between those who find Mass something to be endured and those who find it deeply nourishing, and what does my experience have to do with my own disposition?

A. The short answer to this question is: don’t worry about your experience of Mass, just focus on the Mass. Read on for the long answer.

Underlying this excellent question is a faulty premise: it assumes that “something to be endured” and “deeply spiritually nourishing” are mutually exclusive. But that is not always the case. This is because the level of the spirit is deeper than the level of emotions. In our consumer society, which keeps our emotions titillated and conditions us to think that true spiritual value should always be accompanied by lovely feelings, the distinction between spirit and emotion is almost unrecognizable for many people. But the distinction is real nonetheless.

Think of a good mother whose young child is very sick with a horrible fever. That mother will sacrifice sleep, meals, recreation, exercise – you name it, she’ll sacrifice it, simply in order to stay with, tend, care for, and comfort that child. After three or four days, the mother will be emotionally and physically exhausted; her feelings will not be lovely, but raw. And yet, in the realm of her spirit, she will be profoundly fulfilled and satisfied, because she knows she is doing all she can for her sick child. The spiritual virtue of self-sacrificial love is located at a deeper place than our feelings and emotions. Sometimes spirit and emotion coincide, like on a wedding day, but not always.

The same two levels are at work in our prayer life. Sometimes we feel God’s presence in an emotional way, and it is gratifying. This is a gift of the Holy Spirit, and we should be grateful. But still, the gratifying feelings are not the substance of our prayer. That takes place at a deeper level, where we are exercising our faith, hope, and Christian love by seeking the face of God, adoring and praising him, and renewing our commitment to follow him – regardless of how we feel. Some days when we pray, we spend the whole time fighting distractions or sleepiness, and we don’t feel God’s presence at all. Yet, that prayer, if it was sincere and if we were struggling to seek God’s face and renew our love for him, was just as valid, just as fruitful, and just as pleasing to God as the one during which our emotions were high. In fact, the more difficult prayer may have been even more pleasing to God, because love in a fallen world is always more evident in sacrifice than in enjoyment.

Mass is the same. We know that the holy sacrifice of the Mass is the pinnacle of worship, the perfect prayer. But that doesn’t mean that we will always feel, emotionally, the exaltation. What matters is not our feelings. What matters is the attitude of our mind and will. If we are making an effort to unite ourselves, at the level of our spirit, to the meaning of each part of the Mass, we are giving glory to God and nourishing our souls (and building up the Church), whether we feel exalted or whether we feel bored, distracted, frustrated, angry, or [insert whatever emotion you like].

Therefore, we must dispose ourselves for Mass by stirring up the spiritual desires of a true Christian: to honor God by saying “yes” to him, just as Christ did on the Cross. These desires are expressed beautifully in all the prayers and rubrics of the sacred liturgy. Uniting the attention of our mind and the intention of our will to those prayers and rubrics is our task. We dispose ourselves for that by striving to live each day as Christ would have us, and by arriving to Mass a few minutes ahead of time to recollect ourselves. We should never think that feeling God’s presence in an emotional way is the only evidence that we have disposed ourselves properly for the celebration. We should not pursue a particular emotional experience at Mass. The Mass is not about us; it is about Christ. If God wants us to feel the exaltation, blessed be God. If not, blessed be God. We go there to worship, confident that, because it is the liturgy, it is the highest objective act of worship we can participate in, regardless of how we feel.

This is already too long, but one other point deserves mentioning. The manner in which the liturgy is celebrated can help us focus on Christ, or it can hinder us. Reverential and beautiful demeanor, music, and accoutrements are effective aids to our worship, and they are also signs of our love for God. Yet, they are not the core of the Mass, and we should not treat them as if they were. The soldiers who attended Masses celebrated on the hoods of jeeps near the battlefields of World War II experienced Christ deeply in spite of their grungy surroundings. They experienced him deeply because their daily lives were more in tune with the eternal truths than the latest gossip. The best preparation for Mass is a day-to-day life spent consciously in pursuit of Christ’s Kingdom.

Yours in Christ, Father John Bartunek, LC