There is a rather raspy, raucous-sounding car — I suspect it’s a status car, something like a sports car — that passes St. Alban’s many mornings, whilst we are in silence, meditating on the Reading. The Fathers and Brothers don’t seem to notice. I usually notice: occasionally, it irritates me; but just sometimes, I think something happens that I may be blessed with “the Peasant of Ars moment”. You know the story, where the peasant sits in church, apparently not doing or saying anything, just gazing at the Tabernacle. And he is asked one day what he’s doing, and he replies, “I looks at Him, and He looks at me.” Sometimes, it may be that I allow myself — I give myself over — to be more aware of where I am, and Who is with me. The Forty Hours’ Adoration has been such a wonderful experience — not done for a generation here, I think — to focus our attention on the Presence of Our Blessed Lord, Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity, in the Blessed Sacrament enthroned in such a glorious way, with the altar decorated as it is, the music, the liturgy; but even more so, the stillness and blessing of time spent in silent Adoration with our Lord. And I have been very moved by it, and believe this time to be a time of great blessing. I know how much thought and hard work has been given to this, so well done to everyone! And I hope that this is something that I may see again.
I was at Adoration yesterday, and the church was very quiet. And I was busy at my prayers: I was busy praying about this reflection, “Bread of Heaven”; I was busy praying about one of my favourite chapters about any of the Gospels, John chapter 6. And I’m sure that if I knew no other Scripture, this passage would lead me to everything else I need to know about myself, and about what God has done for me. There, in John chapter 6, Our Lord says, “My Father gives you the True Bread from Heaven. For the Bread of God is that which comes down from Heaven and gives life to the world.” He goes on, “I am the Living Bread which came down from Heaven. If anyone eats this Bread, he will live forever; and the Bread which I shall give for the life of the world is My flesh.” These words, this teaching, these words of life itself, Jesus delivered very much in the world, where His words disappointed some who came after Him for something more worldly. It set others murmuring against Him for saying such outrageous things, and caused others of His followers to no longer go about with Him. “This is a hard saying: who can endure it?” When Our Lord, the Bread Which came down from Heaven, turns to the other Disciples who remained, and asks, “What about you? Will you go away?”, Peter speaks up: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.”
Late yesterday afternoon, I was very busy at my prayers at Adoration, when I was distracted by a familiar sound: the raucous-sounding status car, on its return journey. Distracted from my busyness by this status car passing by, distracted from my busyness as the sound faded away, I began to spend a very rewarding time just gazing at the Blessed Sacrament. And I felt that He looked at me, and I looked at Him.
When the Forty Hours’ Adoration comes to a close on Sunday, when the altar is returned to its normal splendour, when the busyness of the world steps in and disturbs or sometimes tries to take over once more, what will remain with us all the time, and will never fail us, is the gift of God before us in these Forty Hours’ Adoration. “My Father gives you the True Bread from Heaven. I am the Living Bread, come down from Heaven for the life of the world.” That will remain.
He will remain. As He continues to be with us, and continues to give Himself for us, Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity, may we continue to adore Him.
By Fr. David Hathaway