On June 7, more than three thousand Catholics (and some non-Catholics) walked in a mile long Eucharistic Procession from Minnesota into La Crosse, Wisconsin by way of this city’s Cameron Street Bridge, which spans the Mississippi River, the natural border between the North Star State and the Dairy State. At the peak of the bridge, Bishop Robert Barron of Winona-Rochester, MN, stopped, turned back to the west, and blessed his diocese with the Monstrance. He returned to the east, blessed the city and Diocese of La Crosse, and commenced down the bridge to the Wisconsin side of the Mississippi River. Like many of those who attended, I brought my family to take part.
As the procession continued from this benediction, I caught sight of what I thought might be trouble. A white pickup truck made an abrupt stop, pulling over to the side of the bridge near where the canopy sheltering the Blessed Sacrament was passing, and the driver got out. But about that time, a cameraman from a local television station was filming the event, and so I figured the pickup driver was a part of that crew. No trouble, after all….
I continued moving forward with the procession, passing the man, so he was soon out of my sight. It wasn’t until the next day, when my kids and my nieces and nephews recounted how the pickup driver walked to the side of the road, knelt on the highway, and prayed for a short time, before making the sign of the cross, returned to his truck, and continued on his way.
The Diocese of La Crosse’s June 7 procession and Mass was remarkable. Did each of the thousands of participants have an encounter similar to my witnessing the spontaneous piety of a passerby? Furthermore, what if we multiply such remarkable stories for the 60 days that the Perpetual Pilgrims escort Christ in the Blessed Sacrament on the roads—and there are four such routes—then the number of encounters between Christ and his people in the United States would likely add up to…too many to count! Surely, the disciples on the road to Emmaus would be impressed!
Let me return to my pickup driver. His reaction to seeing our Lord in procession has changed my way of thinking about this summer’s National Eucharistic Pilgrimage—a part of the USCCB’s endeavor to revive Eucharistic belief, celebration, and living through four nationwide processions that will converge in Indianapolis on July 16. And by “changed my way of thinking,” I don’t mean that I am now a supporter of processions and the concept of the Eucharistic Revival—Adoremus has been enthusiastic about them from the start—but that I’ve come to an ever-greater appreciation of the power of the Eucharistic procession.
When the Eucharistic Revival was first announced, many thought that it was principally about new and better catechesis on the Eucharist, or that it was an endeavor to begin or emphasize Eucharistic devotions, such as adoration, holy hours—or processions. And while each of these aspects are a part of the Revival, the core of the Revival lays—or should lay—upon the altar of sacrifice at the Mass.
Catechesis, preaching, and teaching are meant to lead from the source of our faith—Christ—back to an encounter with him—he who is the summit. And Eucharistic devotions ought to emerge from the celebration of the Eucharist at Mass. Pope Benedict XVI said as much when he wrote that “the eucharistic celebration…is itself the Church’s supreme act of adoration” (Sacramentum Caritatis, 66). The Mass, then, stands at the heart of our Eucharistic faith. For in it, Christ not only presents himself body, blood, soul, and divinity—such a great gift to us!—but also carries out his sacrifice that unites himself to the Father, in the Spirit, upon the cross, for the life of the world—an even greater gift than his presence among us.
If the Mass is the heart of our Eucharistic faith, and thus Eucharistic devotions are secondary, two possible conclusions may result. The first says that extra-liturgical Eucharistic devotions—adoration and processions—ought to be downplayed so that they don’t eclipse the true center, the Mass. The second says that these same devotions ought to be properly celebrated so that, rather than overshadowing the Mass, they illuminate it and draw us back to it. It is this second conclusion that most bishops promote. It is also what Adoremus itself works toward. And it is this dynamic that I found on full display in our recent diocesan celebrations.
For while the Mass remains the source and summit of our Eucharistic faith, it has its limitations—at least, since God himself cannot be contained, there are limitations placed upon it from the nature of our finite world. That is, the celebration of the Eucharist happens at a fixed point (an altar and church), at a given time (Sunday mornings especially), with those who choose to attend (a specific assembly). But a Eucharistic procession extends the source, going out into the streets, and leads others from various corners of our city and country up to the summit. What is contained by space and time, overflows. What is limited to a small group, expands. What speaks to those in attendance, evangelizes.
Or, as Elizabeth Kitzhaber, a young Catholic who participated in the June 7 procession, said in a National Catholic Register story on the event: “A lot of people are forgetting about how true the Eucharist is. And a public event like this helps spread this truth more quickly! One by one takes longer, but through these big gatherings, more people’s hearts are touched and then they are able to go out and spread the truth to more people.”
Our three-year period of Eucharistic Revival, it seems, works for these same ends. The Eucharist is our source and summit, and the celebration of the Eucharistic sacrifice at Mass roots all other endeavors. But catechesis, devotion, and a life transformed extend and amplify the Mass. May the endeavors of so many youth, laity, clergy, and bishops—strengthened by the grace of the sacraments—find fruitful grace hidden in the accidents of bread and wine in the years ahead.
