The Eucharist

                                                     The Eucharist

“ He was old, tired, and sweaty,pushing his home made cart down the alley, stopping now and then to poke around in somebody’s garbage. 

I wanted to tell him about Eucharist! 

But the look in his eyes, the despair on his face, the hopelessness of somebody’s life in his cart, 

Told me to forget it.

So I smiled, said “Hi” -- and gave him EUCHARIST.

She was so cute, nice little build, a little too much paint, wobbly on her feet as she slid from barstool and on the make. 

“No, thanks, not tonight,” and I gave her EUCHARIST.

She lived alone, her husband dead, her family gone. And she talked at you ,not to you, words, endless words spewed out. 

So I listened - and gave her EUCHARIST.

Downtown is nice. Lights change from red to green, and back again. 

Flashing blues, pinks and oranges. I gulped them in, 

Said “ Thank you, Father,” and made them EUCHARIST.

I laughed at myself, and told myself, “ You, with all your sin, and all your selfishness, I forgive you, I accept you. I love you. “ 

It’s nice, and necessary to give yourself EUCHARIST.

My Father, when will we learn - You cannot talk EUCHARIST - 

you cannot philosophize about it, YOU DO IT. You don’t dogmatize 

EUCHARIST.  Sometimes you laugh it, sometimes you cry it, often you sing it. Sometimes it’s wild peace, then crying hurt, 

often humiliating, never deserved.

You see EUCHARIST in another’s eyes, given it in another’s hand held tight, squeeze it in an embrace. 

You pause EUCHARIST in the middle of a busy day, speak it in another’s ear, listen to it from a person who wants to talk. 

For Eucharist is as simple as being on time and as profound as sympathy.

I give you my supper, I give you my sustenance, I give you my life, 

I give you me, 

I give you EUCHARIST.” 

                                                     R. Voight. 

Tuesday, Holy Week.

Peace.