Recently, during my peregrination around Sydney spruiking the International Eucharistic Congress, which we will host in 2028, I have had a number of conversations that repeat the same refrain: “I don’t know why I bother turning up sometimes.”
It seems to be a widely felt sentiment: people query why they should make the effort to attend Mass when there are so many other pressing demands upon our time.
This attitude is perhaps understandable – as a man with a young family, I can well appreciate the effort required to marshal children to a particular location at a set time on a given day, especially if the prospect upon arrival is a dull homily, uninspiring liturgy and a moribund local community.
Yet, upon reflection, that attitude nevertheless loses sight of the reality at hand.
After all, if we begin to find our husbands, wives, friends, parents, children or siblings a bit tedious – as we no doubt sometimes do – does that then mean that the most reasonable, considered response is to decide they are not worth the effort?
Hardly.
I would like to think of our continuing commitment to weekly Mass in the same way that Christ characterised his commitment to us: “Lo, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:20)
I am sure Jesus often finds us dull, scandalous, irresponsible and irreformable.
But he sticks with us through it all.
Ultimately, our response to the ‘obligation’ to attend Mass on a given Sunday boils down to what we think is actually taking place while we are there.
There is an essential otherworldliness to the church, a transcendent dimension amidst the imminent: what you see is decidedly not what you get.
To be present at Mass is to be present with the disciples at the Last Supper on that fateful Thursday, to kneel at the foot of the Cross on Good Friday, and to stare in wonder at the empty tomb with the women on Easter Sunday.
Through the celebration of the Mass, we truly participate in those events in a metaphysical, sacramental way.
The Mass unites us in time and space, with God and with one another, in a unique way that is simply not possible anywhere else.
Through the power of the Holy Spirit, we are joined with all those who have gone before us and who will come after us.
In receiving the Eucharist, the Body of Christ, we are united, not only with all our brothers and sisters in the faith scattered throughout the world, but also with those in heaven and those in purgatory.
The last three Popes have made great efforts to emphasise this ‘cosmic character’ of the Eucharist.
The Mass unites all generations of Christians: past, present and future, and brings together not only the whole Church, but ultimately the whole of creation. This is represented in the gifts of bread and wine offered to God by the community through the hands of the priest: “fruit of the earth and work of human hands.”
At Mass and in the Eucharist, we are made aware that the promised kingdom to come is not only something to look forward to, but a current reality in which we can participate here and now. We can be ‘knee-deep’ in heaven this Sunday, if we choose to.
In light of that fact, who wouldn’t want to attend Mass?
It may well take effort, but it is worth it, in order that we might be present with Jesus at his last meal, offer ourselves up along with him on the cross, and ultimately join him in his resurrection.
In that special moment of encounter following our reception of the Eucharist, we are praying for the strength and grace to truly become what we have truly received: the Body of Christ.
And that, frankly, sounds much more enthralling than any other invitation I have received in a month of Sundays.
If you would like more information on the Eucharistic Congress in 2028, or to be added to the mailing list for updates, please email: iec2028@sydneycatholic.org
