I loved Holy Communion. I even studied to be a priest so
that I could draw nearer the mystery of the Eucharist, the two-fold
offering of divine grace and human response.
The
Eucharist is the central Christian rite. Christ bestows his Holy Spirit
as a gift of grace. He sends his Shakti down upon this human work of
bread, this ferment of wine, and transforms them into his flesh and
blood. How should we respond? By offering worship. And offering ourselves back to the giver in his service.
I used to think I needed a church, an altar, a golden grail, an unleavened host, a priestly ordination.
Then I discovered that my flesh already is the Bread of Life.
My blood is the Wine of Eden's vineyard. There is no Sin that I have
fallen in. And every man, woman, or child was ordained to the priesthood
of wonder the moment they were merely born on earth, where pain and
beauty meet at the center of eight billion crosses.
The
church is my body, the alter my breastbone, the two-fold offering my
inhalation and exhalation, the rising and falling of my chest. This very
breath is the Holy Spirit, poured into the grail of my heart. I do not
take a breath. It is given.
What may I offer in return?
My exhalation. In effortless surrender, I become hollow, an empty cup
again. Simply to breathe out is to follow the example of Christ's
kinosis, his self-emptying (Philippians 2:7). Here is the Good News:
when you are completely empty, God fills you.
The
sacrament of breathing embodies, in most intimate microcosm, the essence
of all rites: the Vedic yagya, the Dharma wheel of sacrifice and
sustenance, the mutual exchange of Yin and Yang, the cosmic mystery of
Fall and redemption, descent and return.
A perfect prayer
descends into my chest without a word spoken. I simply witness in
wonder and gratitude. All day long, breath pours down and is offered up,
what incense!, an ebbing flowing tide of divine nearness, drawing the
heart into the silence of the Godhead.
Give us this day
our daily breath. Let the sacrament continue through the darkest hours.
"I sleep, but my heart is awake" (Song of Solomon, 5:2).
To breathe is to pray without ceasing (1 Thessalonians 5:16). Moment by
moment, breathe the Spirit into flesh. Let it burst into flame on the
altar of your heart, becoming earth, ashes, dust. And moment by moment,
breathe out the offering of your body in return, a propitious sacrifice.
Jesus said, "Watch and pray" (Mat 26:41). To pray is to
breathe. Watch and pray this breath. You will become the Presence of
God.
Painting: Dante Rossetti's Grail Maiden
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