Hungry

‘He afflicted you with hunger then fed you…’ (Deut. 8:3).

I hungered for Jesus and community and California after leaving IHOP-KC. Why did we come to the Midwest? What is ‘Church’ anyway? A group who prays together until displeased, or until the leader preys on them?

I hungered for a form of worship defined by more than the Bethel/Hillsong/Elevation (or whatever) Top-Ten. And was weary of being subject to the whims of leaders who decide their own course and may well drive the place into oblivion.  

So I started attending our neighborhood Catholic parish. Nothing sexy: music tepid, preaching so-so. But I knew this place claimed Peter as its founder and shaped Western civilization more than any other institution.

Personally, I was mesmerized by the huge Crucifix and the tiny round hosts drawn from the tabernacle underneath it. I learned from the priest that ‘the host becomes Jesus Crucified and Raised through the prayers of the priest. It’s not because I am so holy but Jesus is; He honors the authority He has given His Church. I fail but Jesus never fails to feed His sheep through the Church.’

That made sense to me—uniting Eucharistic worship with Church authority. I hungered for that meal in the Spirit of John 6 (‘My flesh is real bread, My Blood real drink’). I came most mornings for a couple of years and watched from the back as congregants knelt and stood and waited for Eucharist, the piece-de-resistance. I wondered why they weren’t more excited. Hey, you guys should be giddy: you think this piece of ground wheat is Jesus Himself!

I came to believe that, too. I grew hungrier as days passed, so I started prepping for the meal through a couple rounds of classes.

It was costly.  Many hated the idea of my openness to Catholicism. Weird. Everyone seems so tolerant of ‘Catholics’ until you become one. Yet the loudest voices, however painful, heightened my hunger for the meal. I could barely wait to eat. This non-Catholic yearned for the first fruit of membership.

I was faint with hunger on that Easter Vigil. He fulfilled my desire with Himself. Jesus in the Eucharist is deeper than fireworks are sensational. In my ache for Him and Church, He satisfied me in a whole new way.

Of course, I lost other stuff, big stuff, namely, that non-Catholics can’t join me at table. But even without family and friends, I discovered at table the worship for which I longed.

That longing is deeper than solidarity or sex or ambition or beauty. It is for the One who made and is redeeming me and who wills in jaw-dropping humility to unite Himself to me. No one satisfies like He does.