Dedication of St. John Lateran; 40 Hours, November 9, 2003

Again today as last Sunday, the usual Sunday liturgical pattern has been interrupted, invaded by the other liturgical cycle derived from our calendar. And so, after November 2nd’s All Souls Day last week, we are celebrating the feast of the dedication of a Roman Church, the Lateran. This is because this building is the Pope’s own church, unlike the more celebrated Saint Peter’s, which is the church for the whole world.

The Scriptures nicely fall in line with the coincidence of our parish Forty Hours Devotion. This is so on account of the fact the both the feast of a dedication of a church and the 40 Hours devotion have to do with the fact that there is a building, a temple, in which God resides. In the Old Testament there was one and only temple, and it was in Jerusalem. God dwelt in this structure in the inner chamber known as the Holy of Holies. It was a closed room, a cloister, in which no man was allowed entry, except for the high priest–and he only once a year. This was the room that housed the Ark of the Covenant which contained the tablets of the Ten Commandments. Isaiah was given a mystical vision of this interior of the temple in which he saw the awesome majesty of God, the incense that shielded the view of His presence from mortals, and in which he heard the ineffable strains of the chanting of the Sanctus by the angels. The Gospel just heard makes reference to the temple as it still existed in the days of our Lord. The signal event that forever changed the significance of the temple was the death of Jesus on the cross, for–as you remember–the curtain that divided that inner chamber of God’s presence, the Holy of Holies–was torn from top to bottom at the moment of our Lord’s death. The meaning of this is that the temple was no longer to be the dwelling of God on earth. God had come in Jesus now, and His presence would remain among men through his sacred humanity. As had been prophesied, the temple was destroyed in the year 70 A.D. by the invading Romans, and the Jews were without the divine Presence–unless they would find it in Christ Jesus.

Since Jesus is God become man, God’s Presence continues, it survives for us in the form of the Holy Eucharist, which is hid body, His permanent ‘temple.’ When we build church buildings we ought to be building a temple for the Lord God, Jesus in the Eucharist. (The fact that Catholics are tending to make churches into gathering halls, like some Christian sects, is symbolic of a denial of the very heart of the Church’s doctrine of the incarnation and Blessed Sacrament. But, no more of this theme today, lest we divert from our immediate purpose.)

The Presence of Jesus, true God and true man in the Blessed Sacrament! There is no other theme so sublime for us to ponder here on earth than that. I have been heartened by the greater participation of our people for coming to the church in adoration this year for the 40 hours devotion. Of course, I made no small fuss about last year’s poor turn out. It has been a pure joy for me, and for many, to come to the church and to bathe in the light of the divine Presence. It’s hard to say which is more apt, to assert that we come to Jesus more to give to Him His due worship, or to say that we come to derive from Him so many spiritual benefits. Is it the giving or the receiving that is greater? I must do the giving, if for no other reason than to make some payment on my debts, that is, my sins. This is the reparation. It’s better to give my time to the Lord now, sweety, than in purgatory, painfully. On the other hand, there is so much to be gained for the refreshment of my soul in merely opening my heart to the Lord and letting Him fill it, that I think this must be the greater thing. In any case, there is a wonderful act of commerce here, the rendering of praise and adoration and reparation, and the wonderfully consoling graces that he pours out from his Sacred Heart.

When coming to the church to make these visits to the Blessed Sacrament, many things catch my attention. Not only the august divine majesty, but also several attending details that point to His Presence: the candles, the incense, the flowers, the linens, the marble, all lovely things put in service of King Jesus of the Holy Eucharist.

It is not my custom, as you know, to read poetry in my sermons, but in preparing for some thing else, I came across this poem of Father Faber. It’s poetry of a certain kind that is not in vogue perhaps, too sentimental for modern sophistication perhaps, but I was delighted by it in view of my own thoughts in visiting the Blessed Sacrament these days of adoration. I want to read it to you, begging your indulgence for this rare excursion into poetry that addresses these accouterments about the altar:

Read Faber’s Holy Communion, pg. 259

After this Mass until 3 p.m. closing this afternoon... Hope you’ll be here.