One of the most memorable images forever imprinted on my brain of my daughter Tammy's
First Communion is not the sight of impish children dressed in angel-white innocence and
their parents glowing with pleasure over the dramatic transformation.
It is not the scene of the procession, led by my daughter as she waltzes
proudly down the center aisle of the church holding a long-stem white carnation in her
folded hands. Nor is it the memory of her approaching me with a humongous grin and handing
me the flower.
It is not the picture of Tammy standing before the congregation and reading two prayers
of the faithful with perfect pitch and poise (as I recall it).
Neither is it how she squirmed in her seat as she waited in excited anticipation to
finally be able to receive the Eucharistic body and blood of Jesus.
Oh sure, these moments did bring tears to my eyes -- I even cry when she brushes her
teeth nicely -- and each of these First Communion moments will always remain in the photo
album of my memory. But there was another Special Moment that epitomizes what communing
with God is really all about.
From where I sat in the front row, I had a direct, unobstructed view of the priest as
he tipped the chalice from which the boys and girls drank.
And I was in direct hearing of: Yuk! Augh! Euuw! The children were quite
uninhibited as they verbally and facially expressed their opinions of the alcoholic taste
of Christ's blood.
Tongues darted in and out, noses scrunched, eyes tried to squeeze the burning flavor
out through the tear ducts.
I knew what these kids were going through. God still tastes yukky to me sometimes. So
often He gives me a task to do that makes me scrunch my nose.
Who hasn't found that communing with God can taste bitter? Fully partaking of Christ
frequently means reaching out to people we don't care for, such as relatives who are
holding grudges against us or neighbors who are grumps.
God might be asking us to visit the residents of a nursing home. Perhaps, in a fleeting
moment, the idea has occurred to us to take time out of our buisy schedules to cook a meal
for a sick friend. And it's so yukky to say "I'm sorry" or offer forgiveness or
keep our mouths shut or stop keeping our mouths shut.
Yuk! Augh! Euuw! Let someone else drink of this cup.
Yet, similar to when we drink the Eucharistic blood of Jesus, the blessings that flow
from this cup are awesome. Everything God asks us to do is not only beneficial to others,
but also to our own selves. It stimulates our growth. It humbles our pride. It widens our
perspectives.
By responding to God's call -- especially when we don't want to -- we become Eucharist
with Christ.
Tammy froze her face to hide her taste buds' reaction to her first sip of Jesus' blood.
Since then, she has opted to continue partaking of the cup. To her, it's too important to
miss.
When we sit down in our seats after receiving Holy Communion and we cuddle close to
pray together, Tammy has said: "Mommy, I smell Jesus on your breath."
May Jesus be on all of our breaths as we serve Him faithfully.
