Breath is as essential attribute of one’s person, whose existence we may only infer through other media: the sight of our chest rising and falling, the sound of air rushing into our sinuses, the disturbance of the atmosphere near our skin. We mentally connect this evidence-of-breath into a coherent whole, and then label it “my breath”. Yet what distinguishes “my breath” from mere air and, further, what distinguishes this breath from my person? (source)
During Communion, I often find myself just watching everyone receive the Blessed Sacrament. I know I should be singing, for singing as Saint Augustine said is twice prayer, and we all are supposed to be in communion during this time. But I cannot help myself. Maybe that is the problem. I don’t know.
Anyhow, I cannot help but watch individuals in the act of receiving the Body of Christ. I dare not judge or label them. I do not know their stories. I do not know their prayers. I do not know their hopes. All I see is their simple and most profound act of faith—receiving, touching, and communing with their God, with my God, with our God.
It is like watching their faith breathe. All I can do is watch and be in awe. Sometimes I just a take it all in. Sometimes I say a simple prayer for each of them, like heal them, or bring them into a deeper relationship with You. I tend to smile with the parents guiding or carrying little children. My heart smiles for the crippled or lame for I know Jesus will make them new and whole. I am amazed at the older folks with worn out bodies and vigorous faith.
Communion with the Eucharist is the Body of Christ breathing. It fills me with awe and gratitude and love.