Thursday, April 1, 2010

The Eucharist: My Only Strength

On this Holy Thursday, I am remembering Cardinal Francois Xavier Nguyen Van Thuan, 1928-2002, who was imprisoned by the Vietnamese Communist regime for 13 years, nine of which he spent in solitary confinement. During those long years of agonizing captivity, the Eucharist was his only strength. As a constant reminder of his imprisonment, he wore ever after as his pectoral cross one he had fashioned out of wood and metal in prison with the help of a sympathetic guard. He said of his cross, "It is not beautiful, but it is for me a symbol, a reminder always to love and forgive and reconcile." It was Jesus Christ in the Holy Eucharist who enabled Cardinal Nguyen Van Thuan to love, forgive and reconcile. O dear Lord, thank You for doing the same for us! May we always hasten to receive Your precious Body and Blood, given to us for the life of the world! Amen.

The Eucharist: My Only Strength

Around the Eucharistic table the harmonious unity of the Church is realized and made manifest; the mystery of missionary communion, in which all feel that they are children, sisters and brothers. John Paul II, Message for the Twelfth World Youth Day, 1997, n. 7

"Were you able to celebrate the Eucharist in prison?" is one question that many people have asked me. And they are right to ask: The Eucharist is the most beautiful prayer; it is the culmination of the life of Jesus. When I answer "yes," I already know the next question: "How were you able to obtain the bread and wine?"

When I was arrested, I had to leave immediately, with empty hands. The next day I was allowed to request in writing the things I needed most: clothes, toothpaste... I wrote to my addressee: "Please, could you send me a bit of medicine for my bad stomach?" The faithful understand what I meant and they sent a little bottle of wine for Mass, which they labeled "stomach medicine," as well as some hosts sealed in a flashlight to protect them from the humidity. The police asked me: "Do you have a bad stomach?"

"Yes," I answered.

"Here’s some medicine for you."

I will never be able to express my immense joy: every day, with three drops of wine and one drop of water in the palm of my hand, I celebrated my Mass.

It depended on the situation, however. On the boat that brought us north, I celebrated at night with the prisoners who received communion around me. At times I had to celebrate while everyone was bathing after calisthenics. In the re-education camp, the prisoners were divided into groups of fifty; we slept on common beds and everyone had the right to fifty centimeters of space. We arranged it so that there were five Catholics near me. At 9:30 p.m. the lights were turned off and everyone had to sleep. I curled up on the bed to celebrate Mass, from memory, and I distributed communion by reaching under the mosquito netting covering us. We made small containers from cigarette packages in which to reserve the Blessed Sacrament. Jesus in the Eucharist was always with me in my shirt pocket.

In The Road of Hope I wrote: "You believe in one strength: the Eucharist, the Lord’s Body and Blood that gives you life. ‘I have come so that they may have life and have it abundantly’ (Jn. 10:10). As manna nourished the Israelites on their journey to the Promised Land, so the Eucharist nourishes you on your road of hope" (n. 983).

We had weekly indoctrination sessions in which the whole camp had to participate. During our break, I and my Catholic companions took advantage of the opportunity to pass to each, or to the other four groups of prisoners, the little container that held the Blessed Sacrament: they all knew that Jesus was among them, he who could heal all their physical and mental suffering. At night, the prisoners took turns for adoration; Jesus helped us in a tremendous way with his silent presence. Many Christians regained the fervor of their faith during those days, and Buddhists and other non-Christians converted. The strength of Jesus’ love is irresistible. The darkness of prison became light; the seed germinated underground during the storm.

Every time I offer Mass I have the opportunity to extend my hands and nail myself to the cross with Jesus, to drink with him the bitter cup.

~Cardinal Francois Xavier Nguyen Van Thuan

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