Lord, I Am Not Worthy

Last year, Angel, one of our Ezekiel Center leaders, and I were going out to one of our farthest and most impoverished communities, Mango Playa, to bring them the Eucharist. Several years ago a traveling priest preached the Gospel and baptized many, but they have rarely seen a priest in the area since. Because of the long travel distance amid other factors, our pastor has only visited Mango Play three times in five years. My wife, Teresa, and I visit this community on a monthly basis.

Angel and his family came to Chontapunta from Puerto Quito during 2020. He and his wife, Yolanda, have six children. They witnessed what we were doing in the local indigenous communities and were interested in beginning their own missionary journey. I began training Angel in how to celebrate a communion service, and one day I asked him to lead the service in Mango Playa. His face went pale.

“No, no, no,” Angel said, “I’m not worthy. I can’t even touch the Eucharist, my hands haven’t been blessed.”

His devotion moved me, yet, I was disappointed by his belief that Jesus wouldn’t want to be held by Him. Later I asked him, “Brother, what would you do if Jesus miraculously showed up right now in the flesh? How would you respond?”

Angel told me that if Jesus appeared before him, he would rush up to Him, hug and kiss His hands and feet, and rest in Jesus’ embrace. I pointed out to him that if he was confronted with the human reality of Jesus, Angel wouldn’t consider his unfitness as an obstacle to intimacy, but rather, would embrace Jesus and tell Him how much he loves Him.

I know that if Jesus told me He was coming to visit my town this evening, I would go out and tell everyone. I would not only invite everyone, but I would also expect Jesus to love and embrace every person, not just those worthy enough to receive His love. Isn’t this the same man who was accused of being a “friend of sinners?” (Mt. 11:19; Lk. 7:34).

Remember the words immediately leading up to the reception of Holy Communion, “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you.” The very liturgy leads us to the understanding that we are not worthy, and never will be. These words came out of the mouth of a centurion in Matthew’s gospel. In the immediate verses preceding those of the centurion, Matthew tells us of the leper who approached Jesus seeking His healing and approval. Jesus touches him and says, not simply, “be healed” but, “I want to do this” (Mt. 8:3). Jesus wanted to touch the unclean sinners, and be touched by them.

It’s not about being worthy. There is a profound truth in the words “Lord, I am not worthy…but only say the word.” These words both reveal to us our unworthiness, and yet, make it irrevocably clear that this unworthiness is not an obstacle to God.

I want those unnamed children of God to receive Jesus and his infinite love.

This entire scene of Holy Scripture is a healing narrative. It’s not about receiving Jesus at all! Jesus doesn’t even enter the home, yet he heals the child.* This child is not even named, and yet, Jesus heals that child in his compassion. I want those unnamed children of God (Acts 17:28) to receive Jesus and his infinite love in the Eucharist. I want them to eat and drink “not a prize for the perfect but a powerful medicine and nourishment for the weak” (Pope Francis, Evangelii Gaudium 47). May God make a way for those who rarely experience unconditional love to find healing in the reception of Jesus in the Eucharistic feast. Amen.

*The word in Matthew’s version of the story is actually the Greek word for a child. It is often translated as servant because of Luke’s parallel reading (Lk. 7:2-10).