My first Christmas as a Catholic was something to be treasured. I prepared for it by returning to Mount Melleray Abbey where the Holy Spirit first affected me. I spent seven days during Advent there, attending the daily cycle of prayer from Vigils at 04:30 to Compline at 20:00. With plenty of time for meditation and prayer, it raised more questions than it answered; but that was all to the good as I was able to work through those questions on my return. At a season of gift giving it was understandable, and perhaps predictable, that one of the questions for contemplation should be the gifts I have received in coming to the Church. As Advent turned suddenly into the Feast of the Nativity and the Octave of Christmas, two gifts have made this Christmas completely different from any of the preceding fifty-four in my life: the Church and the Eucharist.
“I believe in one Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church”, says the Nicene Creed. In order to understand what this means I have gone to Scripture (the Gospel of John Chapter 17 and Matthew Chapter 28), but that gave me evidence rather than understanding. I have gained greater understanding of the Catholic Church, particularly this Christmas, through comparison with the Church of England. It was an object lesson in what the Catholic Church gives me and all the Faithful. The Catholic Vigil Mass I attended on Christmas Eve was deeply reverent and wholly satisfying. It was a spiritual experience centred on God and the meaning of the feast day, not the feast day itself.
On Christmas morning I attended a Church of England service with my mother along with about thirty other parishioners in her village church. The Anglican Church has kept Christ at the heart of Christmas in an increasingly secular world and I was impressed by watching people take Holy Communion kneeling at the altar rail. I had forgotten that that is how it is traditionally done. It seems to be a more humble way in which to receive the Host and Most Precious Blood and I wish that we did the same. However, it was quite an odd service; for instance, the Creed had been altered almost beyond recognition (I would not have recognised it had the paragraph not had “The Creed” printed above it on the service sheet). C of E services seem to be oddly empty to me. There is always a big ‘something’ missing from them.
What really stuck out for me was the different messages preached by the two celebrants, drawn from the fact of Christ’s birth.
The Anglican vicar accentuated that, because Jesus was born in a stable, we should take this as a sign that we should care for all those who are, like the Holy Family, refugees, homeless and on the edge of society. The great miracle of Christmas, she claimed, is that a baby born into these circumstances becomes the Messiah, Lord of All Things. Which is all to the good and fair enough, but I could not help but compare this with the less temporal message I heard at mass on Christmas Eve: that at the Nativity we commemorate that Jesus is born in every one of us. The priest’s homily was a description of the inexpressible spiritual reality of the Feast of the Nativity. He proclaimed three great truths: the historical fact that God was incarnated in Jesus, that He will come again in Glory and that he is present in every one of us. The good reminder of the poor and vulnerable (whom we should remember every day anyway) seemed pallid alongside the joyful, optimistic and profound celebration of Christ’s threefold arrival.
“The Eucharist is the source and summit of Christian life” (Lumen Gentium 11, Catechism of the Catholic Church 1324). Before I was confirmed at Easter Vigil 2019, I had to watch others receiving the Holy Communion while I received a blessing. It was painful. A deep physical longing to enter into full communion that I can only liken to homesickness. Being able to receive the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ this Christmastide has been like being able to drink cool water when you are aching with thirst. I could not have done this without first being reconciled with God and the Church. Shortly after returning from Mount Melleray, I attended the Advent Penitential Service at which I was able to make a full confession and receive absolution.
The way I understand it, Protestantism will get me all the way up Calvary with Christ as far as Golgotha. Then leave me there. The crucifixion means nothing without the resurrection. The Eucharist is the “source and summit” of ecclesial life because it is centred on the journey from Golgotha and the Cross to the empty tomb three days later. To help me and my weak faith on the way, I have a plethora of plaster statues, beads and crucifixes at home, around my neck and in the church. Most powerfully, I am offered Reconciliation. I could not go to the mass and partake of the Eucharistic feast if it were not for a priest in the confessional. Hearing my deepest sorrows and most secret shame, he gave advice and assured me of God’s love for me. Over Christmas I heard several examples of people who are struggling with guilt and shame. Guilt is a spiritual whirlpool; if you get stuck in it then you will inevitably be dragged under. The Catholic Church, through the sacraments of the Eucharist and Reconciliation, provides a way to break free of guilt and the effects of my sin. This is the way out of the spiral current of sin and guilt.
Without the Sacrament of Reconciliation, I could not have taken part in the Eucharist. Without the Eucharist I would not have been able to experience the spiritual significance of Christmas in the way that I have done.
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