We call the Eucharist the Source and Summit of our Catholic faith. It is the source, the river of Life flowing from Christ’s pierced side. This river is the fount of all the graces we could ever want to walk the path of the Way, the Truth and the Life. It is also the summit, the peak of communion with God. It is Heaven, toward which every effort and sacrifice is directed.
A source of fresh water, a pristine spring and the summit of a mountain are among the most beautiful sights on earth. They remind me of God and his Fatherly embrace. For our seminary vacation this summer, we spent the first couple weeks of July hiking the Appalachian Mountains of New Hampshire. We’ve seen many breath-taking springs and even more breath-taking summits in these past weeks.
As a grand finale to all the hiking, on July 23rd I joined a team of four Legionary brothers on a 25-mile trek across the Presidential Range. This is a range that contains the highest summits in the White Mountain region, 11 mountains in all, peaking with Mt Washington (6,288 ft high) in the middle. I definitely got my taste of summits on that day– as well as sore knees– and I also learned something about the Eucharist.
Climbing a mountain is one of my favorite pastimes. I love the challenge, the view, and the time with my fellow Legionaries; but it isn’t always fun, and it definitely isn’t a walk in the park. As we cleared the tree-line on our first mountain that day, we came across a sign that warned us that the terrain ahead “hosted” some of the roughest recorded weather conditions in the world and that a number of people had actually succumbed from exposure. Beyond that point it was so windy that sometimes we had to grab onto the rocks or hide in the clefts just to stay on our feet. The fog was so dense that we couldn’t see any more than 30 feet, just enough to see the marker right in front of us. It was freezing cold.
There we were on the highest mountains in the Northeast, with some of the most spectacular views, and we couldn’t see a thing. We could barely see each other, and it was so windy, that all we could think of was getting over the summit of each mountain and back down to shelter. Don’t we often experience something similar during Mass? We are there at the source and summit of our faith and life, and often times we can’t see anything and only feel the violent winds of our surroundings attempting to throw us off the summit. Sometimes we feel like just getting done with Mass rather than enjoying the Wedding Feast of the Lamb. But that is ok. Climb the summit anyway. The summit is still the summit whether you see and feel it or not.
We got to the top of Mt Washington just before 1:00 in the afternoon after hiking for five hours. We were freezing cold and exhausted, but the upward climb was basically done. The wind finally died down, but the fog was still just as thick. It felt so good to get to the top. We had five peaks under our belt and six to go, but the highest one was under our feet.
After about an hour of descending to the lower mountains on the second half of the range, we finally got below the cloud line and saw for the first time the beautiful Mt. Washington Valley. We looked behind at a long, winding trail of mountains that we had just climbed. They were bathed in the setting sun. It was a view to remember, and we soaked it in as if it would never end. The time would come again on our hike when we got below the tree line and would again not be able to see the view, but right then, we saw the summits in all their splendor. Again, I thought to myself, often it is too foggy or windy to appreciate the Eucharist, but there are moments like that when the clouds lift, and God gives us the grace to see Him in all his beauty. We need to savor those moments. “It is good that we are here! (Mt 17)” But like the apostles on the mount of the Transfiguration, we can’t stay there forever. The journey isn’t over.
The last seven miles lay ahead, and they were much harder than we expected. It was below the tree-line, muddy and steep. We couldn’t see where we were and had to trust the signs and just keep moving forward to the end. Sound familiar? Persevere in your relation with Christ in the Eucharist.
We don’t make the summit beautiful. It is always beautiful, even if we can’t see it. I am glad we climbed the heights, even those on which, in spite of their spectacular view, we couldn’t see anything. The same with the Mass. Love it. Climb the summit of the altar even when the wind and fog make it impossible. You won’t regret it. For sure you will be sore after the journey of life, striving to stay close to him in the Eucharist. It won’t be easy, but persevere, and your joy will be complete when one day you drive off, looking back at the entire range as the sun is setting. You will see its golden rays bathing the sides of 11 peaks that you have conquered. Then you will say in your heart: “It was worth it.”
