Quiet, and blessed silence (Sunday VIII of Ordered time)

I shall continue with my description of the Mass next Sunday. But while still on the subject of the Consecration during the Eucharistic prayer of the Mass, I thought I’d talk this weekend about reverence for the Blessed Sacrament.

Let’s look at our foundations. I have been talking about building a relationship of marital give-and-take with Christ to the extent that Christ gives Himself entirely for us as the Church and each one of us individually… and then we make an equally personal donation of ourselves to Him. And then, with the institution of the Mass, Christ literally and practically puts Himself into our hands. And this is how…

Christ tells us in the Gospel that the only way that we can break the bonds of mortality and live forever is by eating Him. This confused His Jewish hearers, who asked themselves (as per the Apostle S. John’s account) what this apparent madness could mean. They are probably concerned about cannibalism, which Judaism along with almost every other human tradition abhors. And during that episode of the gospel, and at that very point, many of Christ’s followers left Him. He looked at His Apostles and asked if they would leave also. S. Peter stood up and declared that there was nowhere else for them to go. And the Catholic Church has always stood behind the Apostle.

How do we eat Christ? A Catholic will answer that without missing a beat: in the Eucharist. And if receiving Holy Communion means eating Christ, the consecrated bread upon the altar is Christ Himself. And the consecrated bread that goes into the tabernacle at the end of Mass is Christ Himself. If Christ is king of all things, and Lord of lords, that makes our churches into throne-rooms.

If we were to peek into His Majesty King Charles’ throne room in one of his palaces when the king was present, what should we find? Respectful courtiers perhaps, and detailed and quasi-ritual ceremonial, and undoubtedly a general hush? This wouldn’t surprise us. And if somebody were for some reason to draw a curtain before the throne of the king, everybody in the room would still know that he was there, although they couldn’t see him, and not cease from the customary honours. They wouldn’t at once begin to talk loudly or turn on some music, or look at their phones instead.

And yet, we have forgotten to treat our churches similarly. There are some quite simple means of demonstrating respect for the Holy One in His churches, especially when He is exposed for veneration during the Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament: (i) we could take care to not turn our backs upon the tabernacle in the sanctuaries, if we can help it, (ii) we could attempt to maintain silence for as much as possible in His presence, and (iii) we could pay some respect to others in church who are struggling to pray in that presence of Christ. If we could manage at least these, we could perhaps show a greater courtesy to the presence of the Him Who loves us, and has given Himself thus into our hands in our churches.


Our readings at Mass this weekend have to do with moral instruction, and the first reading just makes me laugh, because it’s so blunt. We know that some people can and will change their ways under the influence of grace, but we all know that other people are more ingrained in their bad habits and careless manner. And some of us can be quite obtuse and annoying to be around. The Wisdom books, such as this Sirach/Ecclesiasticus, say wonderful things like, A fool reveals himself when he talks. And today’s reading is like that: we demonstrate our personal faults when we speak, we demonstrate our mind by what we say and do.

“The sieve shaken, nothing is left but refuse; so thou wilt find a man’s poverty in his thought. Pottery is tested in the furnace, man in the crucible of suffering. Good fruit comes from a tree well dressed, and a man will be in word what he is in thought; do not give thy opinion of a man till he has spoken; there lies the proof.”

Book of Ecclesiasticus, 27: 5-8 [link]

And so, according to that last line of the reading – even if famous people, politicians and celebrities do not agree – we should be very careful about writing autobiographies and giving interviews. Similarly, we could say that the cleverest (or most pious) of men and women have concealed themselves in monasteries and hermitages. And that this is the reason why several church communities still have the good sense to appoint their bishops not from the chattering classes of clergy but from the monasteries.

For wisdom is gained in silence and listening, rather than in speech, and as the Lord says in our gospel reading today, a foolish man will lead everybody who follows him into the pit he’s digging for himself. Once more, blindness here refers to spiritual blindness, so that the ungodly and impious man will make all who look up to him godly and impious, for the student becomes his teacher (as Christ here says). And that’s how we shall be able to tell who a good teacher is – from his students, and from his students’ students. For rot spreads easily, and produces rotten fruit.

To end on a pleasant note: for centuries, the Church has identified saintly men and women who have produced good fruit in abundance, often with miracles added on, often in the silence of the monasteries and convents, whose wisdom has come down to us either in their writing or in the stories written about them by their confreres. They are models for us, good teachers who show us the good way to Christ, and how to trace the narrow road with all its joys and sorrows that will eventually place us in the eternal embrace of Christ.

“And He told them this parable, ‘Can one blind man lead another? Will not both fall into the ditch together? A disciple is no better than his master; he will be fully perfect if he is as his master is. How is it that thou canst see the speck of dust which is in thy brother’s eye, and art not aware of the beam which is in thy own? By what right wilt thou say to thy brother, Brother, let me rid thy eye of that speck, when thou canst not see the beam that is in thy own? Thou hypocrite, take the beam out of thy own eye first, and so thou shalt have clear sight to rid thy brother’s of the speck. There is no sound tree that will yield withered fruit, no withered tree that will yield sound fruit. Each tree is known by its proper fruit; figs are not plucked from thorns, nor grapes gathered from brier bushes. A good man utters what is good from his heart’s store of goodness; the wicked man, from his heart’s store of wickedness, can utter nothing but what is evil; it is from the heart’s overflow that the mouth speaks.'”

Gospel of S. Luke, 6: 39-45 [link]

Published by Father Kevin

Catholic priest, English Diocese of Nottingham.

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