Thanksgiving After Mass

By Fr. Conor Donnelly

(Proofread)

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

My Lord and my God, I firmly believe that you are here, that you see me, that you hear me. I adore you with profound reverence. I ask your pardon for my sins and grace to make this time of prayer fruitful. My Immaculate Mother, Saint Joseph, my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me.

“Jesus answered them. … ‘For the bread of God is the bread which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.’ ‘Sir,’ they said, ‘give us that bread always’” (John 6:33-34).

The time of thanksgiving after Holy Communion is an ideal time for an intimate exchange of love with Our Lord (Stefano Manelli, Jesus, Our Eucharistic Love: Eucharistic Life Exemplified by the Saints).

St. Teresa of Ávila used to say, “Let us entertain ourselves lovingly with Christ Our Lord.”

Any prayers that you may find in a Missal or a prayer book, or other things that you come across—that help your prayer to be very intimate in those very special moments when Our Lord is present sacramentally in your soul—are things to foster and to cherish.

Our love for Our Lord has to try and be “a love of total self-giving, so that we return Our Lord's love so wholeheartedly, so that there are no longer two of us, but one, so to speak, in soul and body” (ibid.).

It needs to be a love that vivifies and unites—“He in me and I in Him”—so that we may be consumed in the uniqueness and unity of His Love.

“Blessed are they,” we’re told in St. John, “that are called to the wedding banquet of the Lamb” (Rev. 19:9).

Every day in our Thanksgiving after Mass, we can try and foster a sense of treasure. We are spiritual millionaires with the real presence of Our Lord inside us.

Let Thanksgiving after Holy Communion be a small foretaste, while on earth, of the love which we will experience in Paradise. In those moments we can help to see the world we live in, in a different light. We’re looking forward to eternity.

“He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood, there is life in him, and I will raise him on the last day” (John 6:54).

We get a promise of eternal life. It means a promise of eternal happiness; of that eternal happiness where every tear will be wiped away (cf. Rev. 21:4), so that each day we can look forward to the bright promise of immortality. In Heaven, we will be one with Him eternally.

We should in a special way thank Our Lord for coming to us in Holy Communion. The nun who had prepared us for Holy Communion told us that when the priest puts the Host in your tongue or in your hand, and you consume it, you should say, “May the Body of Our Lord Jesus Christ keep my soul to live forever.”

I often remember those words. We thought at the time that it was an obligation under penalty of mortal sin to say those words. But still, it was very good pedagogy, which contained a great truth.

St. Josemaría and many of the other saints talk about having sweet and loving words to say to Our God when He comes to us. Our hearts and our souls should be like Bethany where Our Lord was happy to come because He was well treated; Martha and Mary were hospitable.

St. Cyril of Alexandria says, “He who receives Communion is made holy and is divinized in soul and body in the same way that water set over a fire begins to boil.”

It's very good to teach young children to take care of their piety immediately after receiving Communion and to make a big fuss out of the preparation for the first Holy Communion, and of that particular day, which can have so much meaning for each individual.

“Just as by melting two candles together, one piece of wax results,” said St. Cyril, “so one who receives the Flesh and Blood of Jesus is by this Communion fused with him. The soul discovers that she is in Christ and Christ [is] in her.”

These are special moments. We could ponder fruitfully the relationship of Holy Communion to the Blessed Trinity. Jesus is there working in us, inseparably, with the Father and the Holy Spirit. The Holy Trinity is present.

Many of the saints recommended spending a period, ideally maybe ten minutes, or five minutes, or even more sometimes, for that period of Thanksgiving.

St. Teresa, as we said already, said, “Let us entertain ourselves lovingly with Jesus and not waste the hour that follows Communion. It is an excellent time to talk to God and put before him the matters that concern our soul. As we know that the good Jesus remains within us until our natural warmth has dissolved the bread-like qualities, we should take great care not to lose so beautiful an opportunity to talk to him and to lay our needs before him.”

“The minutes that follow Communion,” said another saint, “are the most precious we have in our lives. They are the minutes best suited on our part for talking to God, and on his part for communicating with us” (Mary Magdalene de’ Pazzi).

St. Louis de Montfort would spend quite a bit of time after his Communion and would not permit any need or assignment to serve as a reason for omitting it. He said, “I would not give up this period of thanksgiving even for a period of Paradise.”

It's good that we plan our Thanksgiving, the have specific prayers that we pray or specific things we go through, changing it from time to time, as we discover new things or rediscover old things, so that we keep the fire burning brightly, and take very good care of those moments. That means that we should, as much as possible, try to do everything so that nothing can take precedence over those minutes. They’re not minutes to be wasted.

St. Paul said to the Corinthians, “Glorify God and bear him in your body” (1 Cor. 6:20). There's no time in which those words, taken literally, apply so well as during the time immediately after receiving Holy Communion. It would be insensitive for someone to receive Communion and then leave the church at once as soon as Mass is over, as soon as they have received Our Lord.

One time, St. Philip Neri told some altar boys with lighted candles to accompany a man who had left the church right after Communion.

When a person receives a guest into their home, they pause to give attention to that guest and take an interest in them. And if that guest is Our Lord, then we will only have reason to be sorry that His bodily presence within us only lasts a short period.

We have to watch ourselves because St. Teresa of Ávila says, “Jesus gives us a hundredfold for the hospitality we show him.” It may be true that we also must answer a hundredfold for neglecting that hospitality.

One of the religious who lived with Padre Pio said he went to Confession one day to the holy friar, and, among other things, confessed to omitting his thanksgiving after Holy Mass, because he had some business to attend to, some assignment. While Padre Pio was lenient in judging the other folks when he heard him confess this omission, his countenance became stern, and he said firmly, “Let us see to it that being unable is not just being unwilling. I have to make my Thanksgiving; otherwise, I pay dearly.”

We could give this matter serious thought and attention. When it comes to something so very precious as this thanksgiving, we could be mindful of the admonition of the Holy Spirit in the Book of Ecclesiastes: “Let not your share of desired good pass you by” (Sir. 14:14).

It's easy for us to be neglectful of these important things. If we prepare well for that time and have a plan, we can use our time well.

St. Vincent of Paul gathered his priests together one time and asked them how they celebrated Mass. Then he said, “Now I can tell you what this entails. You must abandon your country, family, and friends, and go into exile in a strange land, to speak about God, and afterward perhaps, to die miserably.”

He was preparing them for the dangerous mission of saving souls that he was going to send them out to do. For everyone, Christ in Eucharist is the true bread which makes them strong.

When we look at the history of the missionary Church, and the missionaries who went out to fulfill their mission all over the world, we can see that all the great things they did were not just with their human efforts. They brought Our Lord in the Tabernacle, they cherished His presence in their souls, and it was He, through them, that did all sorts of wonderful things.

The Second Vatican Council has said that now we’re all missionaries in the middle of the world (Vatican II, Decree, Apostolicam Actuositatem, Points 2, 10, November 18, 1965; Ad gentes, Points 15, 21, 41, December 7, 1965), so, like the missionaries, we also have to take care of our Eucharistic piety, of our Thanksgiving after Mass.

St. Robert Bellarmine says, “The bread of wheat that nourishes our bodies is not prepared with so much labor only to be contemplated, it is meant to be received. The Bread of Life, the Bread of the angels, is not offered only for our adoration and homage, but was given to us as food. Let us go, then, and partake of this Food to nourish and fortify our souls.”

We can think in those moments of all the effects that this heavenly food has on our souls. St. Thomas Aquinas says it has all the effects that material food has on the body.

Our Lord said, “Come to me, all you who labor under heavy burdens, and I will refresh you” (Matt. 11:28).

Each Communion is like a new beginning, a new refreshment, a new strength for the new day, very aware that at the same time, life on earth is a struggle. In the Book of Job, we’re told, “The life of man on earth is a warfare” (Job 7:1).

We are also told in many places in St. Paul that the followers of Christ would suffer persecution (cf. 2 Tim. 3:12; Matt. 5:10). We receive this bread in order to make us strong for our mission and to prepare ourselves. St. Paul says to the Philippians, “I can do all things in him who strengthens me” (Phil. 4:13).

In Holy Communion, Our Lord makes Himself “all mine.” It's a time to lose ourselves in an intimate conversation, telling Jesus that we love Him, thanking Him for coming into our soul, asking Him for all the particular things that we want in this particular moment.

Another saint said, “What need I fear? He who sustains the world is within me. The Blood of a God circulates within my veins. Have no fear, O my soul. The Lord of the universe has taken you into his arms and desires you to find rest in him” (Louise M. Claret de la Touche).

St. Vincent of Paul said, “When you have received Jesus into your hearts, can any sacrifice be impossible for you?”

In the recent diaries of Cardinal Pell, in prison in Melbourne, not able to say Mass, he talks lovingly about the nun who would bring him Holy Communion and what a great joy it was to receive Our Lord in Holy Communion (George Peil, Prison Journal, Volume 1).

When we have the possibility of receiving Our Lord regularly into our soul, we should savor that great privilege. St. Vincent Ferrer, during the two years he had to suffer in prison as a victim of persecution, abounded with exceeding joy in all his tribulations, as told in St. Paul (cf. 2 Cor. 7:4). Somehow, he managed to receive the Eucharist each day, even in the darkness of the dungeon.

St. Joan of Arc also experienced the same courage and joy when allowed to receive Our Lord before she was burnt at the stake. When Our Lord entered her prison cell, she fell on her knees, received Him, and was absorbed in prayer.

As soon as she was told to go forth to her death, she rose and began to walk without interrupting her prayer. She mounted the stake and died amid the flames, always in union with Jesus, who remained in her soul and body.

The whole history of the martyrs from St. Stephen, tells of the superhuman strength that the Eucharist bestows in battle against the devil and all hellish powers, “prowling about the world for the ruin of souls” (cf. 1 Pet. 5:9).

In communist China, some nuns were arrested, put in prison with other prisoners, and they were forbidden even to pray. The guards observed their gestures, their bodily posture, the expressions on their faces, the movements of their lips in order to severely punish any violation. The one thing that the Sisters yearned for was the Blessed Sacrament.

Then an old Christian lady offered her services to the bishop to secretly bring those nuns consecrated Hosts wrapped in a handkerchief. She had a plan.

She presented herself to the prisoners and, in plain view of the guards, she assumed the character of a person mad with rage, spewing a torrent of insults against the nuns; but at a certain moment she slipped her little bundle to one of the nuns and left the prison, promising the guards that she would return in order to mock the Sisters.

And so, the Sisters received their heavenly strength. When the Blessed Sacrament is brought to the sick, it can bring them great consolation and comfort, not just to their souls, but sometimes to their bodies as well.

We’re told in The Forge, “When you receive him, tell him: Lord, I hope in you, I adore you, I love you. Increase my faith. Be the support of my weakness: you, who have remained defenseless in the Eucharist show us to be the remedy for the weakness of your creatures” (Josemaría Escrivá, The Forge, Point 832).

“We should dwell on those words of Jesus,” we’re told in The Forge, “and make them our own: ‘I have longed and longed to eat this Passover with you’ (Luke 22:15). There is no better way to show how great is our concern and love for the Holy Sacrifice than by taking great care with the least detail of the ceremonies the wisdom of the Church has laid down.

“This is for Love: but we should also feel the need to become like Christ, not only inside ourselves but also in what is external. We should act, on the white spaciousness of the Christian altar, with the rhythm and harmony which holy obedience provides, uniting us to the will of the Spouse of Christ, and to the will of Christ himself” (ibid., Point 833).

Then he continues, “We should receive Our Lord in the Eucharist as we would prepare to receive the great ones of the earth, or even better: with decorations, with lights, with new clothes…

”—And if you ask me what sort of cleanliness I mean, what decorations and what lights you should bring, I will answer you: cleanliness in each one of your senses, decoration in each of your powers, light in all your soul” (ibid., Point 834).

“‘So you are a king?’ (John 18:37) … Yes, Christ is the King, the King who not only grants you an audience whenever you like, but even in the madness of his love, ‘gives up’—you know what I mean—his magnificent palace in Heaven, which you cannot yet reach, and waits for you in the Tabernacle. Don't you think it is absurd not to hurry to speak to him, and not to do so more assiduously?” (ibid., Point 1004).

In these moments of intimacy with Our Lord, we should try to shut our hearts to everything that is not of Jesus, no matter how important it may be or may seem to be.

At times we will feel alone with Him and words are not necessary; it's enough to believe that He is there in our soul and that we with Him.

It's not hard to feel deeply grateful and happy and experience our Friend's true friendship. At those moments the soul is as near Heaven as is possible to be in this world.

Sometimes, we'll find nourishment for our piety through the prayers that Christians have used down through the centuries: the Te Deum, the Adoro te devote, the Anima Christi, the Trium puerorum, and many other prayers that have been left to us by the saints and good Christians who are truly devoted to the Blessed Sacrament.

“If we love Christ,” says St. Josemaría, “who offers himself for us, we will feel compelled to find a few minutes after Mass for an intimate personal thanksgiving, which will prolong in the silence of our hearts that other thanksgiving which is the Eucharist. How are we to approach him, what are we to say, how should we behave?

“Christian life is not made up of rigid norms. … Still, I feel that on many occasions, the central theme of our conversation with Christ, in our thanksgiving after Mass, can be the consideration that Our Lord is Our King, Physician, Teacher, and Friend” (J. Escrivá, Christ Is Passing By, Point 92).

Our King, because He has ransomed us from sin and brings us to the kingdom of light. We ask Him to reign in our hearts, in the words that we will say today, with the work that we are offering to Him, in our thoughts, and in each one of our actions.

In Communion, we see Jesus the Physician, and He has the remedy for all our illnesses. Those words are contained in the Liturgy of the Mass.

We approach Communion as He was approached by the blind, the deaf, the paralytic. … We shouldn’t forget that we have the Source of all life putting Himself at our disposal within our souls. He is the Life.

Jesus is the Teacher whom we recognize [as] having the words of eternal life…and in each one of us there is so much ignorance! He is constantly teaching, but we have to be attentive for when our imagination, our memory, and senses are let loose, we will fail to hear Him.

In our Thanksgiving, we look at our Friend, the true Friend, from whom we learn about friendship. We tell Him what is happening in our lives, and we always find an encouraging word, a consoling word.

At times we can ask for the help of our guardian angel: “Thank him for me; you know how to do it better!”

And there's nobody better than Our Lady, who carried God's Son in her womb for nine months, to teach us how to deal with Him in our Thanksgiving after Communion. We can always turn to Our Lady like little children and ask her to help our Thanksgivings to be more intimate, more burning, so that we are very conscious of the presence of the Blessed Sacrament, Our Lord and God, in our soul.

I thank you, my God, for the good resolutions, affections, and inspirations that you have communicated to me during this meditation. I ask your help to put them into practice. My Immaculate Mother, Saint Joseph, my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

GD