First Communion

Elias is something of a soul keeper for his family. He prays more consistently than everyone else. He was the one who suggested praying the Rosary in the car while they were caught in a sudden downpour. It caused such flooding in the streets that traffic came to a halt for hours. He received first communion this week.

And so candle in hand and dressed in his black and whites with a stiff little bow tie he marched to the altar and for the first time in his life received his Saviour. Not a representation or an icon of it but Jesus Christ in body and blood. The communion host itself looks and tastes only like unleavened bread but the Catholic mass is a miracle taking place in front of her faithful.  And it is this miracle that Elias partakes of in full for the first time in his young life.

His proud parents look on from the sidelines taking pictures. The first thought that enters their heads is the quickness of the passing of time. It seems only a short time ago when they took their baby to church to be baptized. Elias Leon Ocampo Fernandez was once only a name writ on a piece of paper. Now he is a fully grown young child, tall like his mother and a bit on the heavy side. In the class lineup he always stands near the back.

He loves to eat. He has other traits. Not all of them good by any means but he is a prayerful young child and will beat everybody else to saying grace before every meal. And so his name has become the cue that the meal will commence.

Elias! And then he goes, “Bless us oh Lord….”

“Lami!” Was his first comment after communion. He has little inkling of the true divinity of the host. He might have been taught the basic theology behind it. But he has no sufficient capacity for doubt to truly internalize the sacredness of the ritual  itself. Unlike his father who has to confront this miracle both from the dual perspectives of faith and doubt.

The materialists might, for instance, make the claim that on closer inspection the host is still only bread after consecration. If it did change, that change is beyond the measures of science. And it cannot ever be anything but bread. If it is something else that something else exists purely in the sense only of symbol.

And yet Catholics believe otherwise. At the last supper Christ did not say, “This is only a metaphor of me.” Neither did he say, “This is me in spirit.” What he said was “This is my body.” “This is my blood.”

And you would have to believe if you are Catholic. Which only shows that you cannot be a Catholic other than on the basis of faith. And it is faith which often defies the requirements of science and history.

On the other hand, doubt is not a sin. And for some of us, doubt can often come as a test and a blessing. For one cannot truly believe unless one’s belief has been ripened by the deepest and most profound doubts. One believes despite doubt. One sacrifices something by believing. It cannot be any other way.

But the whole charm of faith is that one must believe in the day to day. One’s faith is always subject to the up and down cycles of life. Some days more than others, one believes well. On other days, one can not even think about it. The travails of life push faith to the fringes of one’s attention. It is possible to wake up in the morning to much doubt and yet by nightfall go to sleep with one’s faith not only intact but quite so strong. This is typical. It is not at all impossible.

And much doubt has been cast over the conduct of the church over history. They become part of the narrative of the life of the church as a human institution. And then there is the dynamics of the Catholic church’s social and political position in historical as well as contemporary time. All these pose a big challenge to one’s faith. And yet it is precisely this challenge which makes the act of communion an important ritual act.

To rise from one’s seat and stand up in the line that goes all the way to the altar is an act which constitutes an act of faith. One might bring to the altar one’s baggage of sin and doubt. And yet, one has done the physical act of rising and lining up. Whatever might go on in one’s head and heart, the act has been done. It is an act to redeem one’s self.

And while priests and the church institution itself may not be absolutely chaste and sinless, it is not the church which one receives at the end of the line to the altar. The church merely dispenses. It only mediates. What one receives is Christ in body and blood. After the child Elias receives communion, we can shake hands with the Saviour inside him. We can give Him a small hug.