I'm Declan, D-E-C-L-A-N.

I think at this mass last week I told you about the kid and I said he was five or six who had come up to me and said, "Hi, I'm Declan, D-E-C-L-A-N." Well, wouldn't you know it, he came up to me this morning. "Hi, I'm Declan, D-E-C-L-A-N." Only he's not five or six. He's three, and he's going to be four on the 18th of December. Precocious kid. I think we have a future Scrabble player on our hands!

Feast of Corpus Christi. Twenty-eight years ago I was helping in a parish in Oakland in a very underprivileged neighborhood. Every Saturday evening the pastor used to throw a very unusual dinner party. He would always have his mom there. She's since gone to Heaven. He would have the black housekeeper, who was kind of the spiritual dynamo of the parish, she always sat at the head of the table. There would be the benefactors who by their generosity kept the parish going. He would invite some of them. And then he would invite whoever.

Maybe during the week there'd be some people walking the street, perhaps practicing the world's oldest profession, and he would invite them. Perhaps there would be a vagrant who had come around looking for a handout, and he would say, "Hey, would you be free to come to dinner on Saturday?" And usually they didn't have to check with their appointment secretary; they would show up. And there we all were.

And I used to look around and think, You know what? This must be a little bit like what it was like to dine with Jesus of Nazareth, because the Scriptures tell us about how he dined with everybody: sinners, pharisees, the whole lot. And the scripture scholars today tell us that if we are to understand the Eucharist, the Body of Christ, Corpus Christi, we need not just to look at the Last Supper, but at Jesus' what's called his table fellowship, the way in which he dined with so many different kinds of people. And so, for example, when I look back at those Saturday evenings, one of the things that was going on, it was thanksgiving. It was thanksgiving to the benefactors, just as whenever we come to mass we say thanks to our Great Benefactor. And Eucharist means thanksgiving. It's also a way of welcoming people, different people of different kinds.

This parish is a very welcoming parish. That has become very evident to me already in my first week here. You know, a secure family is a family that invites others. I think that should tell us something about Eucharistic hospitality. But that's a story for another day. I think the people who came in off the street then, they experienced kind of absolution, forgiveness, if they needed it. And every time we come to the mass we are experiencing a sacrament of forgiveness. And we haven't said that often enough. But what do we say at almost the beginning of the mass? We say, "Lord, have mercy." And then fourthly, and the point I want to talk most about today, the mass is food for the journey.

And I think that's where the readings point us to today. The readings I think were pretty hard to understand and follow. At least I found them so. But in the first reading Moses institutes the first covenant in the blood of the goat that was killed, and then that gives the people strength for their march that is forthcoming, their march through the Sinai desert. And in the Gospel Jesus institutes the Eucharist in the new covenant of His blood. And then it says at the end of the reading the pathos of that moment, they sang a hymn and they went out to the Mount of Olives, literally His last journey from the upper room to the Garden of Gethsemene. For Jesus and for His apostles, that last supper was definitely food for the journey.

There was a hymn many centuries ago, and it was called Esca Viatorum. It was about the Eucharist. And that, for me, is my favorite phrase to describe the mass. It is Esca Viatorum, food for wayfarers, food for vagrants, food for travelers on the roadway of life, for people who are hungry, thirsty, tired, who often find the going tough. And here they find food for the journey.

Now, it was not always thus. This was not the way I was taught about the Eucharist when I was young. There's been a sea change over the last years. When I was young what was stressed was -- and rightly so -- the miracle of the changing of the bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ, how the Eucharist is to be adored. And so there came across the image that only very good people could receive the Eucharist, that it was like a reward for a life well spent, instead of food for the journey.

And so if I were to transport you back in time to the village where I grew up, called Bunnacurry, in County Mayo, Ireland, 55 years ago, if you were to come into our little chapel -- we called it a chapel rather than a church in that part of Ireland. If you were to come into our little chapel on a Sunday, well, first of all, you'd have seen me serving mass. But then when it came to the moment of Communion, you'd have been surprised at the fact that almost nobody received Communion, because it was regarded as only for holy people. So children came and received Communion, and then holy people. And how did you know they were holy people? Well, they sat up in front. Like you. (Laughter.) And so they didn't have far to travel to get to the altar rails. Because there were altar rails in those days.

And then very occasionally someone would come up from the back of the church. And just like if you're watching television and you're watching golf on TV and someone hits a drive, and you see everybody looking like that (indicating), that's how it was following the progress of this soul up the aisle to the rails. And, of course, in our village everybody knew everybody. And often that person who came up was not ranked among the holy people. And so it gave fodder for the gossips afterwards, because we didn't get out much in those days. And so you would hear things like: "Oh, did you see what happened at mass this morning?" "Oh, indeed." "Did you notice who came up the aisle?" "Oh, indeed. Straight up to the altar rails." And there would be great consternation. But, you know, that person had his rights. That person was maybe going through a crisis in their lives, maybe some great heartache or some crossroads, and they realized that they 5 needed the help of the Bread of Life, and they came bravely forward.

But within a few years of that everything had changed. The Second Vatican Council came along, and then Catholics realized what popes had been saying to them for centuries, that even though none of us are worthy, we are all invited. And so people now accept the invitation of Christ to come forward.

You know, the great Thomas Aquinas, the greatest theologian probably of all time, he wrote some of the most wonderful hymns in praise of the miracle of the Eucharist and of the adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. And you old-timers will remember hymns like Pange, Lingua, Gloriosi; Tantum Ergo; Adore te Devote, Latens Deitas; I Adore You Devoutly, Hidden Godhead. But it was also St. Thomas who wrote most eloquently about how everyone was invited. Here's what he wrote in one of his hymns: "To the weak, God gave the plate. To the weak, Christ gave the plate that holds His body. To the sad, He gave the cup that holds His blood, saying, "Recieve this vessel that I offer. Everybody take and eat, everybody take and drink." Yes, you may not be worthy, but you are invited.

And I don't speak here in the abstract, because, for me, in my life, the Eucharist has been literally my salvation. During the years when my health was in jeopardy and my priesthood in doubt, when I couldn't see the far horizon, nor even the near horizon, it was in the sacred silence after Communion that I used to just shut my eyes and maybe be able to say nothing more than, "Lord, help me." And I got the help I needed, and I still do.

So later on you can consult in the bulletin. I put a prayer that I often say after Communion, which is a modern version of the traditional prayer Anima Christi: Lord Jesus, may all that is you live in us: May your body and blood be our food and drink, May your Passion and Death be our strength and life. Lord Jesus, with you by our side enough has been given: May the shelter we seek be the shadow of your Cross. Let us not run from the love which you offer, But hold us safe from the forces of evil. On each of our moments shed your light and your love. Keep calling to us until that day comes when with your saints we may praise you for ever and ever. Amen.

cml