Wouldn’t you like to have a time machine? You could go back in time to North Africa and watch them build the pyramids. Or forward in time to ride on the first star ship that blasts off to Alpha Centauri. And the people: wouldn’t it be something to meet Abraham Lincoln? Or even Jesus? That would be something. But time machines exist only in the realm of science fiction. Or do they? According to our prayer, every time as we prepare to receive communion we warp time for just a moment. We echo the words that John the Baptist spoke two thousand years ago: “Behold, the lamb of God.” As we break the bread and share the cup we are not being nostalgic, having a happy memory of the long ago and far away. No, we repeat the words of the Baptist because in faith we trust that Jesus is here right now just as surely as he was on Jordan’s bank. Behold, we are nourished by the real presence of Jesus as we pray around his altar. Behold, his holy word brings us the blessed assurance that God is with us. Behold, wherever two or three are gathered in his name, there he is in our midst. The centuries fall away. The past and the future are joined in the eternal now. No matter the harsh realities of our day and time, Jesus is here with us bringing forgiveness, bringing healing, bringing good news. Behold the lamb of God.
Jesus is not only with us in some sacred precinct that is divorced from the stuff that we go through every day. On the contrary, because we as Christians have gone through the waters of baptism, Jesus is with us in every step we take, every move we make. We have been transformed into his body, into his ongoing presence in the world. St. Augustine captures that truth in a prayer he appends to the Baptist’s “Behold the Lamb of God” — “Behold who you are.” As a baptized people we have been re-made into the body of Christ and as a Eucharistic people we share a common identity as the body of Christ around the table of the Lord. That is what St. Paul means when he says in the first epistle to the Corinthians: “You have been sanctified in Christ Jesus.” Our sanctification doesn’t come about because we say our prayers, or go to church, or pay our tithes, or keep the commandments. We have been sanctified because the grace of God has acted in us. We are the body of Christ because God has chosen us. The words of the prophet Isaiah which we take to apply to Jesus as the “servant of the Lord” apply to us who have been transformed into his body. “The Lord formed me as his servant from the womb… and I am made glorious in the sight of the Lord.” We are a people who have been sanctified from the womb, from the first moment of our existence. Every single human being has been made glorious in the sight of God in the very act of creation. There aren’t any throw-away children. There can’t be any lost generation. We can’t write anyone off. “It is too little,” the prophet goes on, “for you to be my servant… I will make you a light to the nations.” We are made for glory, for wonder. When the world looks at us it is seeing the most precious thing on earth. Not gold, not diamonds, but you and I are most valuable, are made glorious, are a light to the nations. Can’t no one or nothing take that away from us. Behold who you are, the body of Christ.
However, St Augustine puts an addendum on that prayer: “Behold the Lamb of God. Behold who you are. Become who you receive.” Church, although we are fearfully, wonderfully made, we don’t always act like it. We sometimes act contrary to our nature as the Body of Christ so we must work at becoming who God made us to be. We sully and stain the divine image in which God created us. We have some unfinished business yet. In the epistle Paul puts it this way: “you have been sanctified in Christ Jesus,” yes, but we are still “called to be holy,” called to act in ways that reflect who we are. We are already the body of Christ but we do not yet reflect fully our divine call to holiness. Let’s think about that for a minute. If you were to list your resolution on what you hoped to become this new year – richer, thinner, kinder, smarter, cuter, whatever – probably “holier” wasn’t on the list. We associate holiness with the goody-two-shoes, with candles and incense, with monks and chants and the like. Sure the Pope should be holy but me? I’m just an ordinary schmuck. Holiness is not a category one associates with the mean streets of Chicago. Yet, St. Paul says that “all those everywhere who call upon the name of the Lord Jesus” are called to be holy. The Church teaches that there is a universal call to holiness. That should make us realize that our definition of holiness must be off. The holy people are not those who never make mistakes, though that might be nice. The holy people are not those who pray without ceasing, though that is desirable. The holy people are not those who keep all the commandments, though that seems like a good idea. No, holiness is not a moral or ethical or even religious quality. To be holy means one thing above all others. The holy people are those who point beyond themselves toward God. We become holy once we realize it’s not about me, it’s about God.
Holiness is not doing so-called spiritual things but doing all things spiritually. The holy people are those who go to work every day because they need to care for the responsibilities God has given them. The holy people are those who are faithful in marriage because God has chosen for them a partner to share life with. The holy people are those who keep at their school work because they want to develop their God-given gifts to the full. The holy people are those who involve themselves in building up their church or their city because God has blessed them with time, talent and treasure to share. The holy people are those who give each day as a gift to God because God has given so much to them. Church, the holy people are those acknowledge it’s not about me, it’s about what God can do with the likes of me.
