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We went back to Fishwife (remember that post a bit ago?) with the rest of the kids, my mom, and one of my sisters.
Eduardo wasn’t there.
But the food was great once again, and the service was wonderful.
And yet.
Eduardo wasn’t there.
It almost made me not want to go back unless he’s there.
I think we do that with Mass.
We meet people. We form a bond. We build community. It’s so important and life giving that it becomes a focus for us at Mass.
And it is important.
But it’s not the most important.
The meal is the most important.
The Eucharist.
Yet if we don’t get the welcome or the community or the homily or the music we want (forget what we need), we wrestle with coming back. But even though those things, although important, aren’t the most important.
This is something I have struggled with all my life. I know that the Word and Jesus’ Body and Blood are what matters at Mass. But I feel more fulfilled by the community, the music, and the homily. And those things, again, aren’t bad. But I sometimes allow those things to distract me from where my focus should be. I look for anyone I know at Mass, instead of the One who knows me.
The Word.
The Body and Blood.
It’s okay if it’s a different Mass time. It’s okay if it’s a different parish. A different state. A different country.
The Word is what matters. Christ speaking directly to you.
The Eucharist is what matters. Christ consuming you as you consume Him.
