I remember my first communion vividly. Well, I mostly remember being disappointed at the presents that I received. I loved being the center of attention for my family and any day they celebrated me was a dream come true. So, you can imagine my excitement when I found out that I got cake AND presents just for going up and eating a wafer; something I wanted to do anyway.
I can't remember whether I really understood that I was receiving Christ body, soul, and divinity on that day or any other day after that. I can't say whether I understood the true implications of such an act. But I can tell you that I was so happy to be getting presents. And presents I did receive.
What a disappointment! Now, I understand how ridiculous and callus I sound. I know that the significance of the act was lost on me the moment that I opened a cross with some blonde, white kid kneeling on it and felt ungrateful. I know that the religious articles that have long since passed from my possession were better spent on somebody else. But I also know how amazing it is that I can remember that day, because there are few other days that I can recall as vividly.
While I do feel dissatisfaction with the fact that I know I wasn't ready for the sacrament I received that day. I don't know if it was for lack of explanation or maybe a lack of belief. I can't say whether I should have spoken with my father more about it or counselled with my catechism teacher. Yet, I can say that when I was ready for the eucharist, I was overwhelmed with gratitude that God had allowed me to partake in it for most of my life; that he granted me access at such a young age. It blows my mind that such a beautiful act is available for so many.
As my family gets older and my children begin to receive the host, I pray that they remember that day as well as I do. I hope that they really understand the fact that they are receiving our Lord when they go up for communion. But most importantly, I hope they aren't disappointed with their presents.
I can't remember whether I really understood that I was receiving Christ body, soul, and divinity on that day or any other day after that. I can't say whether I understood the true implications of such an act. But I can tell you that I was so happy to be getting presents. And presents I did receive.
What a disappointment! Now, I understand how ridiculous and callus I sound. I know that the significance of the act was lost on me the moment that I opened a cross with some blonde, white kid kneeling on it and felt ungrateful. I know that the religious articles that have long since passed from my possession were better spent on somebody else. But I also know how amazing it is that I can remember that day, because there are few other days that I can recall as vividly.
While I do feel dissatisfaction with the fact that I know I wasn't ready for the sacrament I received that day. I don't know if it was for lack of explanation or maybe a lack of belief. I can't say whether I should have spoken with my father more about it or counselled with my catechism teacher. Yet, I can say that when I was ready for the eucharist, I was overwhelmed with gratitude that God had allowed me to partake in it for most of my life; that he granted me access at such a young age. It blows my mind that such a beautiful act is available for so many.
As my family gets older and my children begin to receive the host, I pray that they remember that day as well as I do. I hope that they really understand the fact that they are receiving our Lord when they go up for communion. But most importantly, I hope they aren't disappointed with their presents.