Great Defender
*Content trigger warning! This post contains references to molestation (NOT by clergy)
Jesus in the Eucharist facilitated two healings for me during the National Eucharistic Congress. Both powerful and both precisely timed by my Heavenly Father, facilitated by a loving Savior, and illuninated by Holy Spirit. I believe that every one of us carries wounds from our ‘families of origin’. I believe that we can also carry wounds from our spiritual ‘family of origin.’ I can remember from an early age being fascinated by Mass. I watched the priest with close attention during the Eucharistic Prayer in particular. At one point in time I actually thought that I was psychic as I was able to ‘predict’ the next words out of Father’s mouth. This was how closely I listened. After my First Communion I remember holding Mass in my dining room with my little Mass book that I had received as a gift (which I recently came across in clearing out our basement). My first wound (and with further reflection, the core wound) was the wound of exclusion. As a girl I was not allowed to become a priest or even an altar server in my day. There was actually a time in my adult life that I pondered leaving the Catholic Church and becoming Episcopalian so that I could enter seminary. My parents had a vibrant social life within the churches they belonged in my early childhood. As Jeff and I joined our church here in Green Bay and welcomed our first child I was certain that our life would mirror my parents with a close knit group of parents. Despite weekly Mass attendance, volunteering, and having our children in the Catholic school, Jeff and I felt like outsiders most of the 19 years we sent our kids through school: the wound of exclusion. Almost seven years ago after my deeper conversion within the faith I was ready to spread my fire to the rest of the congregation. I have been stonewalled in major ways not once but twice: the wounds of exclusion. Some of you may be asking the same question that I have asked myself, “Why did you stay?” In one word: Eucharist. Our faithfulness to weekly Mass allowed my body and soul to recognize my elemental need for Jesus’ life giving food: body, blood, soul, and divinity. What else can explain a spiritual life thriving in the midst of harsh climate? Praying on the second morning of the National Eucharistic Congress I was filled with a profound love, gratitude, and awe of this church for the first time in my life. I could go back to those spaces of woundedness and feel whole without pain, regret, sorrow, or hurt. Jesus had healed my wound of exclusion without my even asking or realizing my deep need. For the first time I fully recognize that I belong, just as I am both to Jesus, and to His church. Jesus had turned exclusion into inclusion, just as He had done for the lepers, for the tax collectors, and for the woman at the well.
This first healing facilitated the second. This was integral to God’s perfect plan. I was so blown away by the grace of finally feeling fully alive within this church that my threshold of trust finally reached the level needed to receive the next healing. Let me tell you, this came out of the blue. While the first healing was facilitated by a Holy Hour of Adoration, the second healing was facilitated in receiving Eucharist during daily Mass. Coming back from communion on Friday, I knelt and entered my prayer room with Jesus as is my custom. Upon opening the door in my mind’s eye, I was transported back 42 to my childhood home in Milwaukee. I knew exactly what moment in my history I had landed at. It was a wounded place that I have tried to heal on my own. I have tried to ignore. I have tried to avoid. It was the moment that I told my parents that my friend’s father had inappropriately touched me on several occasions. This was well before molestation was openly discussed or dealt with in ‘healthy’ ways. My parents reaction was probably pretty typical for the time. They became very angry and forbid me to play with my friend anymore. They wanted to protect me. My nine year old self interpreted their anger as anger with me and that I had done something wrong and I was being punished. The enemy used the open door to plant the seed that this happened to me because there was something wrong with me. On this Friday, having just received Eucharist, while this was the moment in time I entered, it was not the scene that greeted me. God, the Father, along with Mary greeted me. They wrapped their arms around my nine year old self and they told me over and over, “You were just a little girl.” “You were just a little girl.” Such a simple and profound truth that had alluded me up to this moment. Tears washed down my face, relief, and release flooded my very being. I can go back to that space in time now and feel no shame, no hurt, no resentment.
“I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” (John 14:6)
Receiving Jesus in the Eucharist allowed me to encounter my Heavenly Father in a profound moment of healing and grace (with Mary to boot!) Jesus waited 42 years for me in the Eucharist. He waited until my heart was ready to receive the healing He wished to facilitate. He brought me home to Abba so that Abba could take the pain, hurt, and lies away. Jesus waits for each of us in the Eucharist. We all have wounds. We all need His healing.
