Participation in the sacrifice of the Holy Mass while on holiday is a profound privilege. It is something to be forever grateful for. Although it is always beautiful to take part in the liturgy in any language, there is something especially moving about hearing it in one’s own mother tongue. A quiet bond forms with strangers who share the same faith, the same baptism, the same hope, and the same holy sacrament.
Consider someone in
your life—living or deceased—for whom you are deeply grateful. Hold that person
in your mind and heart for a few quiet moments.
Now, offer a prayer of thanksgiving for them.
How often do Christians take part in the Eucharist? How often should one take part?
The honest answer is: it depends.
From the Book of Acts we learn that the earliest disciples “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.” We also see that the breaking of bread occurred frequently and quite possibly on the first day of the week — the Lord’s Day (Acts 20:7). In his first letter to the Corinthians, St Paul speaks at length about the centrality of the Eucharist in the life of the Christian community (1 Corinthians 10–11).
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The earliest Christian
practice of reserving the Eucharist arose from the pastoral need to bring holy
communion—especially viaticum—to the sick and the dying. Over time, as the
reserved sacrament came to be kept more permanently and securely in churches,
theological reflection on the Real Presence and the growth of Eucharistic
devotion led to practices such as adoration and Benediction. Thus, while
Eucharistic adoration did not arise directly from viaticum, it developed
historically from the Church’s practice of reserving the consecrated elements.
Sunday 8 February 2026
Lectio Divina:*
Meditatio:
“let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works
and give glory to your Father in heaven.’’ (Matthew 5:16)
Commentary:
Have you ever wondered
how certain people you meet seem to light your way? They appear for a moment,
illuminate something you needed to see, and then move on. Longfellow captured
this beautifully:
Ships that pass in
the night, and speak each other in passing,
Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;
So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another,
Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.
(Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Tales of a Wayside Inn, part 3, section 4)
During the dystopian period known as the ‘covid years’ online worship became a norm in many parishes. While priests celebrated on their own in front of a camera a significant number of persons were tuned in to watch. In other cases, online worship was conducted over Zoom with a leader leading a service of prayer or meditation by sharing slides or music. For sure, these temporary measures were very useful in connecting people and providing an opportunity for all of us to stay together albeit virtually. We got through that experience. Unfortunately, some got out of the practice of going to church while others continue to be incapacitated by reason of physical mobility or, indeed, lack of an opportunity to join other Christians in the celebration of the eucharist because of long distances and lack of available ordained ministers.
One of the great challenges facing adults and young people today is the struggle to pay attention. Never has so much been said about “mindfulness,” even as our minds seem more scattered than ever. I am not speaking of the ordinary distractedness that has always accompanied daily life, long before social media and smartphones. Future research may well show long‑term changes in our ability to focus on a story or a single subject for any length of time without constant visual or auditory stimulation.
