Days after hanging out with 50,000 other Catholics at the
Indianapolis Convention Center for the 10th National Eucharistic Congress, I
was back in Springfield with a much smaller crowd. About 200 of us assembled on
a sticky Monday afternoon to honor the life of Sonya Massey, grieve her loss
and call for accountability.
The gathering in Indy was the highpoint of an effort to
revitalize U.S. Catholics’ faith in the real presence of Jesus in the
Eucharist, the central sacrament of the Catholic Church. For thousands of
people, one of the most anticipated moments was a procession through downtown
Indianapolis behind a bishop carrying a gold vessel containing a consecrated
host, which Catholics believe to be the real presence of Christ. Springfield
residents witnessed something similar here on July 11 leading up to the event
in Indy. These religious processions, while not typically seen at such a large
scale in the U.S., are common in many Catholic cultures, a piety that can serve
to unite communities and teach a central truth of the faith.
Days later, as I arrived at Pleasant Grove Baptist Church, I
joined a tiny stream of people assembling along Martin Luther King Drive. There
were persons familiar to me and many I’d never met. There was no obvious focus
of attention, like a phalanx of priests or golden vessels. There were ordained
ministers among the assembly, and lots of homemade signs witnessing to the
meaning of Sonya’s life. The closest thing we had to a presider was our
neighbor, Tiara Standage, who gathered us with her megaphone and set us in
motion. She reminded us that as we gathered and walked together, we embodied
our belief in the value and dignity of Sonya’s life. Though we assembled as
strangers, by the time the procession reached its destination, we had become a
community, ready to break bread – well okay, buns around hotdogs – together.
Events like the one in Indianapolis are grand and
impressive, and for many people, awe-inspiring. From my perch in our exhibit
booth, I could clearly see the fruits of the event in the lives of the
participants. There was palpable energy and joy; that constant buzzy energy
that you often hear at such large gatherings.
We were in Indy to deepen our faith in the sacramental
presence of the risen Christ in the Eucharist. A sacrament, according to Pope
Paul VI, is “a reality imbued with the hidden presence of God.” Such
sacramentality is central to Catholicism. Eucharist is considered the “source
and summit” of the Catholic faith. For my whole life I’ve plumbed the depths of
that inexhaustible mystery.
Through decades of participation in the Eucharist, I’ve come
to know that the profound meaning of the sacramental sign of the Eucharist does
not stop with a consecrated host. Jesus is real and present to Catholics in
that sacramental form. Jesus is real and present in an infinite number of ways.
True Catholic sacramentality asks that we see God present in all things:
“people, communities, movements, events, places, the world, the cosmos” as one
theologian says.
While I appreciated the consolation and joy the Eucharistic
Congress brought to so many, for me it lacked something that I was better able
to put my finger on as I walked the streets of Springfield among a grieving
crowd, contemplating Sonya’s life and death.
As he was during his life on Earth, Jesus draws close to
those who are vulnerable and marginalized; he cares for those who suffer. Among
those are included Sonya Massey and, yes – the broken man accused of taking her
life.
Each of them, suffered – suffers – the consequences of the
mortal wound of racism. Each of them possesses a soul imbued with an
inalienable wholeness, overflowing with God’s love and grace. We all do. While
it is impossible for me to know, it seems that perhaps, of the two of them,
only Sonya really knew that deep and beautiful truth. Otherwise, how could her
accused killer have possibly done what he did? Does he not know that he, too,
is created in the image and likeness of God?
In the days leading up to the event in Indy, some words
attributed to a revered Benedictine monk kept showing up in my social media
feed.
“What difference does it make if the bread and wine turn
into the Body and Blood of Christ and we don’t?”
This is the challenge that faces the 50,000 of us who
gathered in Indianapolis – and - all of us in Springfield who must now decide
how to persevere on the journey to becoming a community of healing and hope in
the aftermath of the death of one of our sisters, beloved of God.
Sister Beth Murphy, OP, is the communication director for
the Dominican Sisters of Springfield.
