Читать книгу Communion Calls - Frank Campisi - Страница 5

A Call to Ministry

In the mid-1990s, I was “trained” as an Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion (EMOC), or Eucharistic Minister (EM), (and I will use the initials interchangeably hereafter) going through a one-day diocesan-run program at a parish in Woodbury Heights, New Jersey. Our training consisted of how to properly present the host to the communicant, by saying “The Body of Christ,” and the chalice of wine, similarly, “The Blood of Christ.” We learned the proper methods of wiping the cup after its use and making a quarter-point turn with the cup after each communicant drank. After completing the training process, I was commissioned or installed, in my home parish of Saint Mary’s in Williamstown, New Jersey, and I served as scheduled or as needed at Mass. At that time, although trained to do so, we seldom distributed the Precious Blood from the Chalice. Distribution is typically by preference of each pastor, and the choice to not distribute is sometimes a decision from the diocese, such as, in a time of an intense influenza outbreak (which is the case regarding the COVID-19 outbreak in 2020, during which this is being written.) I was comfortable in my role as an EM: going up at Communion time during the Mass, receiving, distributing, returning unconsumed hosts to the altar, and returning to my seat in the pews.

I served the Lord. The job was done. Move on with the rest of the day, the rest of your life.

Don’t get me wrong; I did not take on the role for any selfish reasons. I didn’t do it for attention. I really felt called to be closer to Christ in the Blessed Sacrament. And yes, I know how stupid that sounds as I write it, because how much closer can one become than consuming the Blessed Sacrament? But I mean closer in the sense of acting upon that calling and actually doing something about it. That longing to “do something more” was about to change with just one phone call. It was an ordinary weeknight, and when the phone rang, a very distinct voice greeted me.

“Hello?”

“Frank?”

“Jackie?”

“Yes, can I ask you for a favor?”

“Sure. What do you need?”

Jackie had the most wonderful British accent. I instantly recognized it. Jackie was a fellow EM, who also was a Lector at Mass. Every Scripture passage she read sounded regal and royal; I recall once saying that I could listen to Jackie read the phone book, and I would still be mesmerized. As she spoke, she informed me that she was planning to take a trip to a famous apparition site at Medjugorje in Bosnia/Herzegovina and would need someone to cover her EM duties for the next two weekends. I quickly agree, figuring I could switch from my regularly scheduled 4:30 PM. Mass on Saturdays, to whatever she had been scheduled to serve. She was appreciative of my help, but then asked me a question that left me speechless. “Do you have a large enough pyx to carry up to ten hosts? If not, you can use mine,” she said. A pyx is a small container that is blessed to carry the Communion from the church to an appointed sick call. Sometimes, for parishioners who are unable to attend the service due to illness, injury, age, or homebound request to receive Communion each week by having a minister bring it to them to pray with and receive. I had not even thought about the concept since the EM training several months prior.

I must have not responded soon enough, as I was still trying to wrap my mind around why she was even asking this.

With her regal-sounding accent, she asked, “Are you there?”

I must have mumbled some response as she went on to explain. After the 9:00 AM Mass on Sunday mornings, she visited the local nursing home and rehab center located down the road from the parish church. Here she distributed Holy Communion to residents.

“Would you do that for me, while I am away?”

How could I say no?

I told her that I had no pyx. I had never had a reason to have one before. However, we arranged that I would borrow hers for the time being. She instructed me to remain near the altar just before the Sacrament was to be placed back into the tabernacle, and the deacon or priest would ask how many additional hosts were needed. I was to ask for ten, because although I was only planning on visiting six residents at the facility, a visitor or staff member may ask to receive as well.

In my role of being an EM at Mass, I had never even noticed that there were EMs that remained near the altar until the Blessed Sacrament was reposed, for this purpose. Fulfilling my role, I was happily back at my place, satiated that I had done something, saying thanks to the Lord for allowing me to be that close to Him, probably with my head down in prayer. Yet these others were being sent forth to bring Jesus Christ to those who physically could not be in the assembly. They were truly doing something, and I had been missing it. Now, my eyes were about to be opened to really doing something. Being an EM at Mass is necessary and vital to the flow and pace of the ceremony, but bringing Jesus to someone who physically cannot be present? That is truly doing something as I thought more about it.

My calling to do something more had blossomed into an opportunity to serve both others and the Lord. After taking Jackie’s place for just two weeks, I developed a longing to continue. Through the many visits I would make-- some “one-timers”, others over the course of years-- week after week, month after month, I learned the value of what this ministry provides. While at its core, the EM brings the consecrated Eucharist to the waiting Communicant. However, after many calls, I realized I was just a tiny part of what takes place.

Communion, communication, and community. All words stemming from the same root in Latin, communitatem. A sense of fellowship, and courtesy shared by all. While there are many other terms in relation, the English word common seems to stand out. When an EM takes the Blessed Sacrament from a faith community and brings it to where they are, Jesus allows for any person-- no matter age, ability, or location-- to be connected to a family, to that family, of believers.

Jackie’s request opened my eyes to the role of an EM as a bridge to a part of the community that is not only hungry for the divinity found in the Body of Christ, but also, many times, starving for the humanity found in the visit of the person who brings Jesus to them.