Our annual Quarant’ore devotion — Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament all weekend — begins with a Solemn Mass on Friday evening. The Sacrament will remain exposed, and the church open, all night and throughout the next day, interrupted only by the celebration of Mass. The altar will be decorated with many candles and flowers, and in the centre a throne, and on the throne the monstrance. The opening Mass will feature beautiful vestments and the best music, building in a great crescendo of as much splendour as we can muster. And then, the music stops, and the lights are dimmed, and all focus is on that gold monstrance. And there our focus, our attention, our hearts, will remain for forty hours.
For what is placed in the monstrance, is a Who and not a thing: he is Christ the Lord, and we come to be in his company, in his presence. Even though we will see the Host, seemingly immovable and inactive surrounded by candles and flowers and hangings, we know that there is more happening than the eye can see. Christ is not inactive and immovable in the Eucharist. In this sacrament, he continually pours himself out in love for us and for the world he came to save. We gaze on him in the Blessed Sacrament because he first gazed upon us with eyes of love, a look that sees into the very core of our being, loving us, calling out to us, asking that we forsake our sinful ways and our petty distractions, and return our love for his. Where Christ is, there is heaven and when Christ comes he never comes alone. All of heaven draws near to us: the angels and the saints, our brothers and sisters who have gone on before us draw close; past, present and future all converge in him who is the Lord of time and history. This is why when the Christian prays, even in early in the morning in a dark church, he or she never prays alone. And this gift, this call to step out of time and into his company, is given not because we deserve it, nor is it denied us because we are sinful. It is given because of the love he has for us, and the mercy with which he deals with us until the day when our time is ended.
So we still our souls, we raise our hearts and minds and voices to the Lord. We put aside our distractions for a time and cease to worry about what we have to do or how we are to pray. Prayer, after all, is not the words we speak. It is focusing on him, gazing on him. It is listening to the heart of God speaking to our hearts, and our hearts making their fleeting, and faltering, and yet eminently precious answer to his love. So come to the Lord this weekend during the Forty Hours, if not for the all-night vigil then at least for an hour or so. He will be waiting to spend time with you.






