The gospel reading today (Luke 7:1-10) is not, by itself, a Eucharistic passage, but the centurion’s words: “Lord… I am not worthy that you enter under my roof” are echoed at every Eucharistic celebration everywhere in the world. Indeed, the other two readings —Paul’s letter and the response to the Psalm— render the tone of today’s liturgy clearly Eucharistic.
Even if the centurion’s words were not meant by him in a Eucharistic sense, they do reveal a depth of faith that, we are told, amazed Jesus. The man was a pagan and an officer of an army of occupation. Yet as a gentile he had undertaken the building of a synagogue for the Jews. Even so, this Roman officer does not consider himself worthy to receive a Jew under his roof.
As we transpose his setting to ours today, it raises two questions. One is about our own respect for people of other faiths, and even of our own faith. The gospel passage went beyond tolerance to actually facilitating their different faith life. The other question is the way we approach God: as entitled to God’s action on our behalf; or realizing that we have no real claim that would make us worthy. Do we let the centurion’s words, which we echo before communion, sink into us and help us approach communion more aware of our not being entitled to it? After all, we partake in the Eucharist not because we are so good, but because God is so good.
A second comment is about Paul’s letter (1 Corinthians 11:7-26, 33). His words reveal a very different setting for the celebration of the Eucharist than we celebrate today. Back then, one component of a get-together included an actual meal, one at which abuses were evident: unequal food distribution, not waiting for one another, and even drinking to excess. It is encouraging to recognize how much the situation has changed, at least in that one respect. But the disregard for others manifested in those no longer existing abuses was also a manifestation of approaching the gathering as “my celebration” and not as “our celebration”. As we take comfort in the disappearance of those concrete abuses, I am not sure we can say that we are always free from the “my celebration” syndrome. When I see people absorbed in their otherwise commendable private devotions during the celebration of the Eucharist, I must wonder whether we are not still bringing our own “food” to the gathering. Who among us has not observed people leaving Mass after communion, but before the end of the liturgy? Is this “not waiting for one another” that Paul admonishes against in verse 33? Is this not yet a further sign that Mass, for some, is taken as “my celebration” (or obligation?) and not as “our celebration”?
If, as the Psalm’s response (Psalm 40) challenges us, we “proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes again”, then we must respect, indeed facilitate, other people’s expression of their faith, even when it diverges from our own. We also must remain conscious that, as we attend the Eucharistic celebration with others of our own faith, we cannot act as if it were “my celebration”, instead of “our celebration”.
May God Bless You and Grant You His Peace!