Carmel and the Eucharist

Sister Libby Dahlstrom, O.Carm.

Introduction

About fifteen years ago, I was asked to speak to a group of teachers about the Eucharist. At the time I was working on the lecture, I had a dream one night. When I woke up, I realized that the dream had a lot to do with the Eucharist. I am convinced that the dream also had other psychological implications; however, this dream helped me understand something about the fundamental meaning of the Eucharist. The description of my dream and the meaning I perceived in it will serve as an introduction to this text.

In my dream, there was a little girl who seemed to be mentally disabled. I was helping her to go up the stairs. She climbed up on her knees, and so I sent her down to try again, knowing she would manage better that way. Due to her disability, she couldn’t coordinate her movements well, so she had to go down backward, as she couldn’t turn around. It was a steep staircase, with gaps between the individual steps and a railing, almost like a spiral slide or even a fire escape. Because the steps were quite steep, the girl placed her foot unsteadily on the edge of the step, losing her balance and almost falling, but I always pushed her back to safety, into the middle of the staircase. When she was almost down, I somehow got underneath her and waited to help her on the last step. But actually, I caught her and softened her fall by spreading myself across the steps; she rolled over me and slid down the last few meters until she landed on the ground. At that moment in my dream, I noticed that the girl was not very well dressed. She was very disheveled, so I went to her clothing locker and dressed her in things that, as I hoped, would make her feel better and look better. Just at that moment, the alarm went off, which of course abruptly interrupted my dream.

In the morning, I sat down again to contemplate what I would say in the talk I was preparing. I realized that this dream reveals and emphasizes the depth of the Eucharist and its impact on our lives. What is it actually about? It is about the transformation – transforming each individual into Christ and at the same time the whole community of the Church into Christ's body.

In this respect, I understood the dream as follows: that disabled child symbolizes us – individuals and the community. We all struggle and are weak, handicapped in many ways. What I did in the dream represents the action of Christ: how I sent the girl down and wanted her to try again, helping her, protecting her, and dressing her again. All this was to help this little girl become the best she could be.

Christ transforms us through the Eucharist. The Eucharist is meant to change each individual as well as all of us together as a church, so that we may become the best we can be; that is, to be “another Christ,” to be the body of Christ. Saint Augustine, a bishop of the early Church, made this clear already in the early fifth century. In one of his sermons on the Eucharist, he urged the people: “Behold what you are, and become what you receive.” He reminded his people that by receiving the Eucharist we are meant to become what we have received, after all, what we receive is a mystery that belongs to us. We receive the body of Christ, but in fact, as Saint Paul told us, we are already the body of Christ as the Church. And it is precisely in this reception that we are transformed into the body of Christ ever more perfectly.

Most of this article will focus on certain themes that direct us to the core of the mystery of the Eucharist. Of course, the scope of the text is limited, and there are other related topics that I will not cover. I hope that from the themes I have chosen, it will be clearer how this great mystery is connected to our Carmelite charism and way of life and how essential the Eucharist is in our lives as true Carmelites.

The Eucharist as Food

What does food mean? What words or phrases come to mind when we mention “food”? We know quite a bit about it from our own experience. Food is sometimes a very joyful occasion and sometimes it is not. What makes the difference? What characterizes a happy meal?

Food is intended to nourish our bodies and likewise our spirits. It feeds our spirit because food expresses and simultaneously deepens the bond of love that is already there. Let us reflect on the importance of preparation for a meal and how this preparation impacts its success. Special preparations, made with love, will make the meal something special for the people who gather to share it. Consider food on Thanksgiving Day,1 when small children bring flowers to the table, older folks set the table with china dishes, Aunt Betty bakes her famous pumpkin pie, cousin Sally makes her great sweet dish, etc. The more various family members contribute to the different preparations, the more extraordinary the meal becomes. The celebration of the meal then becomes a celebration of the love that was put into the preparation. The fact that we do not rush through the meal is another factor that creates space for peace and harmony at the table. A meal is an opportunity to express the love that already binds those who share the meal, and in the sharing itself, mutual love is deepened and the bond of love strengthened. On the other hand, when any of the factors contributing to making the meal a happy event is missing, the shared experience of the meal accordingly becomes relatively unhappy. Sharing a meal with others tends to strengthen already existing feelings towards each other. If there is tension and discord in the group, a shared meal can even deepen it. I cannot imagine a more unpleasant social situation than sharing a meal with someone with whom I have recently exchanged harsh words or someone with whom I do not get along. The lack of free time in our culture contributes to making it increasingly difficult to experience such a meal that truly expresses and deepens a bond of love. Our habit of eating on the go, sometimes referred to as the “grab and run” syndrome, clearly rejects the creation of unity. It is evident that eating together expresses and deepens either a bond of love or a divide and tension.

What did “food” mean for the Jews in the Old Testament? They believed that food creates community, that a shared table brings about a shared life. That sharing food creates a bond with the person involved. The Israelites understood the festive meal, especially Passover, as an image of the coming messianic age; they celebrated this meal with joyful anticipation of the future coming of the Messiah and the eternal banquet that all would participate in when the Messiah's kingdom was established. In celebrating the annual Passover meal, they ritualized their own historical experience. They recalled the saving deeds of the Lord, reviving this event through remembrance and celebrating what they had become by the will of the Lord; they looked forward with eager expectation for the future fulfillment. They did not remember that event as we do when recalling a historical event from the history of our land. They remembered it in such a way that its significance was brought into the present. They became participants in its lasting significance. Such a remembrance is called a memorial. The Passover supper reminded them of their ongoing commitment to the Lord; through their participation in this covenant meal, they became what they celebrated: the chosen people of the Lord. Participation in this meal created a bond between them and the Lord. The celebration of the great night was a process that captivated and transformed ordinary people.

Let us reflect on food, as if we were preparing it for family or friends. Let us remember what “food” is and what it can mean, and especially what it represented for the Old Testament Jews in terms of creating unbreakable bonds with those who participate in the meal. Then let us imagine this setting – the setting of a special meal – as the context in which Jesus established the Eucharist. Let us contemplate this truth; what might Jesus have wanted to express about the meaning of the Eucharist by establishing it as food?

The Eucharist: A Celebration of Service and a Call to Service

Another focus of this reflection is the aspect of service. The Eucharist is both a celebration of service and a call to service. It is a celebration of service in this way: Jesus is the servant. He spent his entire life being a servant, and his life was one of complete self-giving to others. Jesus is the perfect embodiment of how God loves. The relationship that bound him to his Abba called him to serve others. Jesus reflected love and gave it concrete form through loving service to God’s people, and he found true peace and happiness in giving himself in generous service. His true freedom and transformation were the result of giving himself in perfect service, even to the point of death.

At the Last Supper, Jesus brings all this together. His entire life of continuous self-giving in unconditional service is summed up in his gift of himself in the Eucharist, and through the celebration of the Eucharist, Jesus continues this self-giving. He brings the whole of his life into the ceremony, condensing and celebrating it; a life that was complete self-giving in relationship with God, and how this relationship led him to loving service to others. At each celebration of the Eucharist, we remember and celebrate Jesus’ servanthood – his total and complete gift or self-sacrifice in love. Jesus was the Lord’s servant par excellence.

However, the Eucharist is more than just a celebration of Jesus’ loving service. It is more than our gathering to remember and give thanks for the fact that he was indeed a servant. Celebrating and remembering, no matter how pious, is not enough. Besides being a celebration of service, the Eucharist is also a call to service directed at those who celebrate. It is the same difference as between parades at the Rose Bowl and the New Orleans Mardi Gras. At the Rose Bowl, people are spectators. They simply watch the floats go by and applaud their beauty and extravagance. A friend of mine from New Orleans was recently at the Rose Bowl, and when she came back, when asked how she liked the parade, she replied: “So boring; we just sat in the bleachers and watched the parade go by.” In contrast, the New Orleans Mardi Gras is something entirely different. Everyone present has a role during the parade, and they passionately embrace it. The roles are varied, but everyone is involved and participates. People on the carnival floats are in costumes and masks and interact with the people on the streets who have come to watch. The interaction consists of the street crowd shouting and demanding beads and other trinkets that people from the floats throw. This exchange and participation of everyone through their roles generates such excitement that the floats almost disappear. It is this active interaction and participation that create the parade. Everyone truly takes part in the event. Another way to understand this is to imagine the difference between watching a sports game and appreciating the qualities of a team from the sidelines versus participating in the team and joining the game. The Eucharist is not merely an acknowledgment of how great our team is; it is about entering into the game and joining in. Theologically speaking, the Eucharist is not just a celebration of Christ as the servant and all the good he accomplished through his loving service and unconditional self-giving. The Eucharist is also – and this is even more important – a call and challenge for us, both as individuals and as a community, to be as Christ is – a servant – and with him, a complete gift – for God and for others.

Taken from the magazine Carmel in the World, 1998, No. 3, pp. 225–231.
Translated from English by Anna Šmilauerová.