by P. Alberto Caccaro *
On the feast day of the saint of the poorest of the poor, Fr. Alberto Caccaro, a PIME missionary in Cambodia, talks about celebrating the Eucharist with the Missionaries of Charity in his home on the outskirts of Phnom Penh. “When I distribute Communion, I am happy that Jesus, the Bread of Heaven, rests on the visibly wasted hands of his guests, whom no one else would welcome.”
Phnom Penh () – Today is the liturgical feast of St. Teresa of Calcutta. In order to keep her memory alive through the work of the Missionaries of Charity, the congregation of nuns she founded, we publish this letter from Fr. Alberto Caccaro, PIME missionary in Cambodia. In the photo: the prayer of the Missionaries of Charity at the tomb of Mother Teresa a few days ago, on the anniversary of her birth.
I often go to celebrate Mass at one of the houses of the Missionaries of Charity, on the outskirts of Phnom Penh. Perhaps it is because of a relic of Mother Teresa, the founder, kept in the chapel of the house, or more simply because of the habit that the nuns wear, that white sari with blue trim that is now so familiar, or because of the multitude of people who participate in the Mass, permanent guests of the house, poor, abandoned and disabled of various kinds that no one else would welcome, but the fact is that Mother Teresa’s presence in that place is so evident that, every time I enter, I sense her and look for her with my eyes. Believe me, I really do see her. In the sisters who are doing the morning cleaning, but who, when the bell rings, rush to prayer; I see it in the guests who look elsewhere, but who could not be anywhere else, and who will soon receive the Body of Christ, whether or not they understand the meaning of that gift; I see it also in the inscription “I thirst” that is found next to the Crucifix, He who gave his life for that thirst and for those people.
They say that the white colour of the sari represents truth, while the blue at the edges is meant to recall the colour of Mary’s eyes, her purity: that Heaven which the Virgin carries within and which no one can violate. In fact, as many know, the saint from Calcutta not only founded the missionary nuns, but also other congregations, five to be exact, like the wounds of Christ. Apparently, responding to her irrepressible mystical nature, Mother Teresa wanted to found, one after another, these five congregations precisely to heal these five wounds. In fact, in 1950 she started with the Missionary Sisters of Charity, then in 1963 she founded the congregation of the Missionary Brothers of Charity. In 1976 it was the turn of the contemplative branch of the Sisters and then, a few years later, in 1979, she also started the contemplative branch of the Brothers (Contemplative Brothers). Finally, in 1984, the Missionaries of Charity Fathers, in this case priests, also dedicated to the service of the poorest of the poor. Five congregations to heal those five wounds (of Jesus) that remain open in the skin of the poorest.
At the celebration, when I distribute Communion to those present, I am very happy when Jesus rests on those hands that are visibly consumed by aggressive diseases that strain the nerves, deform the muscles, disarticulate the gestures and prevent any response beyond a simple “Amen!” to the words “the Body of Christ” that I pronounce at the moment of offering them the Bread of Heaven. When I celebrate the Eucharist, I enter into the routine of the sisters, always the same and yet never repetitive.
That is why at the end of Mass I recite with them the prayers of thanksgiving. I like one in particular, attributed to Cardinal John Henry Newman (1801-1890) and adapted by the nuns for community prayer. The sisters address Jesus with words of unheard-of depth: “Dear Jesus, help us to spread your fragrance wherever we go. Fill our souls with spirit and life. Penetrate and possess our whole being… Let us preach you without preaching: not with words but with our example, by the contagious force, by the influence of what we do, by the evident fullness of the love that our hearts feel for you. Amen.”
In that prayer I can sense between the lines the personality, the sensitive faith, the love of Cardinal Newman for Jesus, and I feel that this captivating force, this contagious influence and this evident fullness are a gift, they are there, for me and for many, thanks to the life of these sisters for whom I simply celebrate. Having them before me in the sacred space of the Eucharist makes my priesthood more valuable, it takes it to a level that it could not reach on its own.
Indeed, every time I celebrate Mass, the same scene is repeated. It is a special moment that makes that Eucharist always unique precisely because it is celebrated in that place, in that particular chapel, with that inscription on the wall next to the cross, “I thirst,” to which I always turn my back while presiding at the Eucharist. If I were somewhere else, it would not be the same. Only there, every time I raise the chalice after having pronounced the words of consecration over the wine, and at the moment of the doxology, when I say “For Him, with Him and in Him…”, on the golden surface of the chalice that I hold in my hands, raised just above my eyes, do I see my face reflected, I see the cross just behind it, and I see the inscription “I thirst.”
I see everything reflected: the chalice of his blood, my hands that hold it, my face, his cross and his thirst. For an instant, this “I thirst” becomes mine, it becomes me, and I feel an invitation to drink from this chalice, which is the only thing that can give meaning and an answer to my thirst. It is a vision, impossible anywhere else, marked by extreme simplicity and yet so clear as to give back to this place, to these sisters, to these guests, to my priesthood, to my thirst and their thirst, to the Eucharist, their proper meaning. And I say to myself: this is how it has to be in order to be as it should be!
In the same way I understand why Mother Teresa often asked Our Lady not only to take care of these five congregations, but even to “hide them within the wounds of Jesus,” imagining that each of them corresponded to a particular wound of Christ, in the following order: “The missionary Sisters and Brothers correspond to the wounds of the hands, the contemplative Sisters and Brothers to the wounds of the feet, and the Priests to the wound of the Heart of Jesus.” Magnificent!
Continuing to celebrate in your home is a true honor for me.
* PIME missionary in Cambogia
Add Comment