Jo was my first carebound communicant. Her son was godparent to one of my sons. I had been in and out of her house for years. She had moved into assisted living and could no longer go to mass. I volunteered to take her communion.
Jo was a good person to teach me how to make communion calls. She was easy to talk with. She clearly loved the Lord. We soon began sharing more than chit-chat conversation.
Then, one day, she was clearly troubled when I walked in. She didn’t take but a few minutes to let me know what the trouble was. “Mary, this isn’t right. It isn’t right for you to bring communion to me. I need to go to church. That is where I need to receive communion.”
I knew that she couldn’t go to church. What should I do? I must have said a prayer, because the words that came out of my mouth were just the right ones. I said, “Jo, all your life you have gone to see Jesus at his house, the church. Now, it is Jesus’ turn to come see you at your house.”
Jo was very quiet. Her eyes welled up with tears—as did mine. The silence was deep. We rested in it. Then Jo said, “I guess you are right. I never thought of it as Jesus coming to my house to visit me.”
I have used that story numerous times through the years, and it never fails to touch someone who is now carebound, especially if they are uncomfortable at the thought of receiving communion at home. There is great truth in the wonder that in carebound ministry, God himself makes personal house calls!
Yet, it is also true that God makes personal house calls with me each time i receive communion. God, who made heaven and earth, comes to be “under the roof” of my soul. He comes inside.
Jesus and the Centurion
Today’s Gospel is the story of Jesus and the centurion. A centurion was a Roman soldier who was in charge of 100 troops. As such, he was a man of authority: middle-management himself, he gave orders and received them. He understood obedience. It was what made an army run.
The centurion also understood and respected Jewish culture. If Jesus had entered the centurion’s home, he would have been ritually “impure.” While there was a remedy for that, it took time and trouble. Respectful of Jesus, the centurion did not want him to have to go through that trouble. He just wanted his servant to be healed. So, the centurion said, “I am not worthy that you should come under my roof, but only say the word and my servant will be healed.”
Jesus, surprised and pleased, healed the servant and said, “In no one in Israel have I found such faith.”
These Words in the Mass
When the mass wording was changed several years ago, the wording of “O Lord, I am not worthy that you should come under my roof” was a change I struggled with for a while. The old wording of, “O Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word, and I shall be healed,” was beautiful and easy for me to put my heart into. There was an intimacy to it.
I have come to see that the wording and meaning at that point of the mass is not about intimacy. Intimacy comes later, once I have received communion. This part of the mass is about respect for God and a reminder that God is God and I am not. It is a moment for me to have the awe that Jo and I had that day in her room.
God comes. God comes “under my roof” every time I receive communion. Our Catholic catechism says, “In the most blessed sacrament of the Eucharist, the body and blood, together with the soul and divinity of our Lord, Jesus Christ…is truly, really, and substantially contained.” (CCC 1374)
God comes, EVEN THOUGH I am not worthy to receive him. True, I need to clean up the house of my soul as best I can and keep it clean with frequent confession, with regular examination of conscience, with my efforts to live “Love God, love others.” But no matter how hard I try, I cannot make myself worthy to receive God under my roof.
That is the function of Jesus. That is his mission in coming under my roof. He comes to make me more like him. He comes to remind me he is my Savior and my Lord.
These Words for Advent
At first this seemed an unlikely Gospel for the second day of Advent. It comes from in the middle–from the eighth chapter of Matthew. Jesus has just come down from the mountain where he preached the Sermon on the Mount. He is traveling back to Capernaum, which was his home base in the early days of his ministry. Crowds are following him. Surely, he must have been thinking, “I’m tired! I’ll be glad to get some rest.” On the edge of town, the centurion meets him. Since he was stationed in Capernaum with the task of keeping order, he likely already knew of Jesus. Perhaps he had even been told by some of his troops who kept an eye on crowds that the Sermon on the Mount was breaking up. Perhaps that’s what put him on the edge of town to wait for Jesus.
Thinking of that—how busy Jesus had been and yet the needs that met him as he went home—makes me think this is the PERFECT reading for Monday of the first week of Advent. We know Advent is a season to prepare for Christmas, but….well, December is such a busy month.
It brings me up stark short to see that Jesus would not have hesitated to enter under the centurion’s roof—even though he was tired and it meant he had extra spiritual work to do before he could go to synagogue.
I pause and think, “Jesus does not hesitate to enter under my roof—the roof of my soul—even though I am not worthy. How busy am I in December? How do I make room for Jesus to come—to fully come? How do I clean my soul for Christmas? How do I decorate my soul for the festive visits God makes to me with every communion?
Prayer
Our psalm response today is, “I rejoiced when I heard them say, let us go up to the house of the Lord.” Lord, my soul is your house. I am a temple of the Holy Spirit. You come to me with every communion. ” Lord, I am not worthy that you should come under my roof, but only say the word, and my soul shall be healed.”
