Holy Week Retreat-in-Pl ace 2020
Communion:
An Ever Present Realit y by Fr. Meinrad Miller Koinonia: the idea of common ownership. After the disciples, Peter and Andrew, James and John encountered Jesus, they knew that what held them together, what they held in common, was not a fleet of fishing boats. Rather the very life of Jesus, his flesh and blood, ran through their veins.
Behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.
- Matthew 28:16
From this idea St. Benedict named the kind of monks who follow him as cenobites – those who live the life of Koinonia. What binds us together are not just lofty ideas, but the very life of Jesus fills us with strength. This term, while applied to monks, applies to every Christian. Today, we are all called to live this communion.
This is why we call the Great Sacrament, the Body and Blood of Christ, Holy Communion. Pope Benedict XVI in his Easter Vigil Homily in 2011, said this communion is not something that is added later, but was present with God from creation in his covenants. In this way, communion between God and man does not appear as something extra, something added later to a world already fully created. The Covenant, communion between God and man, is inbuilt at the deepest level of creation. As I prepared to profess my first vows as a Benedictine monk, on July 11, 1986, Fr. Timothy Fry, long-time chair of the English Department at St. Benedict’s College, and later editor of the monumental RB1980, an edition of the Rule to commemorate St. Benedict’s 1500th birthday in 1980, told me to read Hebrews 11. That text beautifully recounts the faith of the ancients. On the day of my profession, as Fr. Timothy, along with the other monks, welcomed me into the community, he said words to me that I will always cherish, “Remember your covenant.” Over the years the words of Fr. Timothy and Pope Benedict became a key for me: The Covenant, communion between God and man, is inbuilt at the deepest level of creation. The source and summit of that life is the Eucharist. COVID-19 reminds us that, in every age, it is tempting to forget about God, to think that God has forgotten us. But Jesus’ closing words in Matthew’s Gospel still echo in our hearts: (Mt 28:16) Behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age. Before Jesus enters Jerusalem to suffer and to die for us, he teaches the disciples three times of his true mission. The first two times he simply says that he will go to Jerusalem, and that 24
Kansas Monks
the Son of man will go to Jerusalem, both times predicting his passion, death and resurrection. But I would like to focus on the third prediction of his passion, from Matthew 20:18-19: Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death, and hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and scourged and crucified, and he will be raised on the third day. Something radically changes here. No longer is Jesus just speaking of himself, but he is saying that we also will go up with him and share in this greatest event of all human history. We participate, even now, in that one perfect sacrifice of Jesus. Again recall that Jesus, on Holy Thursday and in each Mass, asks us to enter very deeply into the mystery of his covenant: Then he took a cup, gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, “Drink from it, all of you, for this is my blood of the covenant, which will be shed on behalf of many for the forgiveness of sins. (Mt 26:27-28) At the Last Supper, Jesus both gives himself to us in the Holy Sacrament of the altar, and he also, in John 13, teaches us about humility and service: He...took off his outer garment...and tied it around his waist. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and dry them...He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Master, are you going to wash my feet?” Jesus answered and said to him, “What I am doing, you do not understand now, but you will understand later.” Peter said to him, “You will never wash my feet.” In the weariness of our journey, Jesus stoops to wash our feet. He through whom all things came into being, stoops to wash our feet. He who is God from God, light from light stoops down to wash our feet. Like Peter, it seems impossible that God should even know who I am, let alone wash my feet. This teaching of Jesus was not lost on Christians through the ages. St. Benedict’s chapter on welcoming guests recalls a beautiful tradition: The abbot shall pour water on the hands of the guests, and the abbot with the entire community shall wash their feet. After the washing they will recite this verse: God, we have received your mercy in the midst of your temple (Ps 48:10). When I do something good for another, I think that I am giving God’s mercy. But St. Benedict clearly states that when we have washed the feet of guests, it is we who receive mercy. We are blessed by imitating Christ.
