A friend sent me some pictures of a beautiful chalice from the 1600's. It was very simple but had a carved "knot" in the middle of the stem. It made me think of Canon C. at morning Mass. When he lifts up the chalice of Precious Blood at the Consecration he not only lifts his hands slowly so that we will get the full import of what just happened, he also grasps that knot in the middle of the stem between his second and third fingers while his thumb and index finger touch each other the whole time, making a beautiful circle together.
I have come to love that gesture. It is like Moses who would one day be called to converse intimately with God at the top of Mt. Sinai, but also humbly taking off his shoes on the holy ground near the burning bush. It is the priest both acting as alter Christus and yet also realizing he is fully human and of earth - that circle made by his finger and thumb reminds him of this. He miraculously consecrates but he also adores and is as careful as a lover with the Host and the Chalice and cannot just hold it any which way he chooses.
The gesture is effortless now for Canon C. But at one time, I'll wager he had to practice it and practice it until he got it right. Then, when his muscle memory settled in as he grew in his priesthood it must have become second nature to him. His hands just knew what to do because of all the many faithful trysts he has been privy to at daily Mass.
He keeps the finger and thumb closed just in case some particles of Jesus's body have clung there when he first consecrated and held the Host before he raised the chalice. He is that careful. The gesture speaks volumes to me. Every particle is the whole Christ - the whole beauty of Christ. The human hand and those fingers tell the story without words. God is among us. Holy ground. Be careful.
The greatest witnesses of this amazing truth were not Frenchmen or Europeans to me. The greatest witnesses had a real understanding of the meaning of that finger and thumb. They were the Mohawk Indians, sworn enemies of the Huron, the Mohawks who maimed St. Isaac Jogues and cut off the very fingers and thumbs that connected Him with the God he believed in and then to us. Being great warriors themselves, they had a knowledge of physical bravery and its inspirations. And they also knew that those two digits on Isaac's hand were somehow powerful. He could not hold up that round GOD he was so attached to and spoke about so often, without them. What a terribly exquisite torture for a Catholic priest than that? He must have not only been in excruciating physical pain, but also emotional pain remembering how his fingers had been blessed at his ordination.
His Mohawk captors knew that this would be the greater suffering to him. And they thought it would keep the 'black robes' from calling down their God and holding him up for the people to see. They had a great understanding of what was going on - to my mind. I always catch my breath when I see Canon C lift that chalice and I think of Isaac Jogues there crouched in a wilderness of trees offering God his priesthood in the most incredible way possible.
When I see it, I want so much for my belief in the Eucharist to match the gesture. I want to believe every particle is Beauty Incarnate and is being protected by a mere, yet careful, thumb and index finger of a human hand. That God has willed it so to depend on someone like this. How much He trusts us to take care of Him in the world.
I only recently learned the story of St. Isaac Jogues but it was so good of you to share it again with us here. I remember as a child, we learned about the special meaning of using the fingers in a holy way to hold the host and chalice - as a girl, I never thought that I would be able to experience this holy moment
What a beautiful reflection. The priest who witnessed our marriage and who baptized our first three children was Fr. Timothy Murphy. He was no longer young and had been a priest for a long time when I first met him and he's since gone to meet his God face to face. But when he preached he always had a habit of holding those first fingers closed-- as if he'd made that gesture so many times that it was their natural resting position. It's that gesture with the thumb and forefinger closed in a circle as he shakes his hand to make a point that I always think of when I remember him. He was such a wonderful spiritual father to me and to my husband. Thanks for the memory today.
We visited the Shrine of the North American Martyrs last month and prayed at the site where St Isaac Jogues once walked. It was so moving to be in a place where the blood of martyrs was shed and where such a great saint lived and breathed and said Mass and ministered to souls. I love your contemplation of how much those who maimed his hands understood about the importance of those fingers. Something to ponder and meditate on.