CHAPTER VIII

THE FIRST COMMUNION.

For the Roman Catholic child, how beautiful and yet how sad is the day

of his first communion! How many joys and anxieties by turn rise in his

soul when for the first time he is about to eat what he has been taught

to believe to be his God! How many efforts he has to make, in order to

destroy the manifest teachings of his own rational faculties! I confess

with deep regret that I had almost destroyed my reason, in order to

prepare myself for my first communion. Yes, I was almost exhausted when

the day came that I had to eat what the priest had assured us was the

true body, the true blood, soul and divinity of Jesus Christ. I was

about to eat him, not in a symbolical or commemorative, but in a literal

way. I was to eat his flesh, his bones, his hands, his feet, his head,

his whole body! I had to believe this or be cast forever into hell,

while, all the time, my eyes, my hands, my mouth, my tongue, my reason

told me that what I was eating was only bread!

Has there ever been, or will there ever be, a priest or a layman to

believe what the Church of Rome teaches on this dreadful mystery of the

Real Presence? Shall I say that I believed in the real presence of Jesus

Christ in the communion? I believed in it as all those who are good

Roman Catholics believe. I believed as a perfect idiot or a corpse

believes. Whatever is essential to a reasonable act of faith had been

destroyed in me on that point, as it is destroyed in every priest and

layman in the Church of Rome. My reason as well as my external senses

had been, as much as possible, sacrificed at the feet of that terrible

modern god, the Pope! I had been guilty of the incredibly foolish act,

of which all good Roman Catholics are guilty—I had said to my

intellectual faculties, and to all my senses, “Hush, you are liars! I

had believed to this day that you had been given to me by God in order

to enable me to walk in the dark paths of life, but, behold! the holy

Pope teaches me that you are only instruments of the devil to deceive

me!”

What is a man who resigns his intellectual liberty, and who cares not to

believe in the testimony of his senses? Is he not acting the part of one

who has no gift or power of intelligence? A good Roman Catholic must

reach that point! That was my own condition on the day of my first

communion.

When Jesus said, “If I had not come and spoken unto them they had not

had sin; but now they have no cloak for their sins: if I had not done

among them the works that none other man did, they had not had sin; but

now have they both seen and hated both me and my Father” (John xv.

22-24), he showed that the sin of the Jews consisted in not having

believed in what their eyes had seen and their ears had heard. But

behold, the Pope says to Roman Catholics that they must not believe in

what their hands undoubtedly handle and their eyes most clearly see! The

Pope sets aside the testimony most approved by Jesus. The very witnesses

invoked by the son of God are ignominiously turned out of court by the

Pope as false witnesses!

As the moment of taking the communion drew near, two feelings were at

war in my mind, each struggling for victory. I rejoiced in the thought

that I would soon have full possession of Jesus Christ, but at the same

time I was troubled and humbled by the absurdity which I had to believe

before receiving that sacrament. Though scarcely twelve years old, I had

sufficiently accustomed myself to reflect on the profound darkness which

covered that dogma. I had been also greatly in the habit of trusting my

eyes, and I thought that I could easily distinguish between a small

piece of bread and a full-grown man!

Besides, I extremely abhorred the idea of eating human flesh and

drinking human blood, even when they assured me that they were the flesh

and blood of Jesus Christ himself. But what troubled me most was the

idea of that God, who was represented to me as being so great, so

glorious, so holy, being eaten by me like a piece of common bread!

Terrible then was the struggle in my young heart, where joy and dread,

trust and fear, faith and unbelief by turns had the upper hand.

While that secret struggle, known only to God and to myself, was going

on, I had often to wipe off the cold perspiration which came on my brow.

With all the strength of my soul I prayed to God and the Holy Virgin to

be merciful unto me, to help, and give me sufficient strength and light

to pass over these hours of anguish.

The Church of Rome is evidently the most skillful human machine the

world has ever seen. Those who guide her in the dark paths which she

follows are often men of deep thought. They understand how difficult it

would be to get calm, honest and thinking minds to receive that

monstrous dogma of the real corporal presence of Jesus Christ in the

communion. They well foresaw the struggle which would take place even in

the minds of children at the supreme moment when they would have to

sacrifice their reason on the altar of Rome. In order to prevent those

struggles, always so dangerous to the Church, nothing has been neglected

to distract the mind and draw the attention to other subjects than that

of the communion itself.

First, at the request of the parish priest, helped by the vanity of the

parents themselves, the children are dressed as elegantly as possible.

The young communicant is clothed in every way best calculated to flatter

his own vanity also. The church building is pompously decorated. The

charms of choice vocal and instrumental music form a part of the fete.

The most odorous incense burns around the altar and ascends in a

sweet-smelling cloud towards heaven. The whole parish is invited, and

people come from every direction to enjoy a most beautiful spectacle.

Priests from the neighboring churches are called, in order to add to the

solemnity of the day. The officiating priest is dressed in the most

costly attire. This is the day on which silver and gold altar-cloths are

displayed before the eyes of the wondering spectators. Often a lighted

wax taper is placed in the hand of each young communicant, which itself

would be sufficient to draw his whole attention; for a single false

motion would be enough to set fire to the clothes of his neighbor, or

his own, a misfortune which has happened more than once in my presence.

Now, in the midst of that new and wonderful spectacle; of singing Latin

psalms, not a word of which he understands; in view of gold and silver

ornaments, which glitter everywhere before his dazzled eyes; busy with

the holding of the lighted taper, which keeps him constantly in fear of

being burned alive, can the young communicant think for a moment of what

he is about to do?

Poor child! his mind, ears, eyes, nostrils are so much taken up with

those new, striking and wonderful things that, while his imagination is

wandering from one object to another, the moment of communion arrives,

without leaving him time to think of what he is about to do! He opens

his mouth, and the priest puts upon his tongue a flat thin cake of

unleavened bread, which either firmly sticks to his palate or otherwise

melts in his mouth, soon to go down into his stomach just like the food

he takes three times a day!

The first feeling of the child, then, is that of surprise at the thought

that the Creator of heaven and earth, the upholder of the universe, the

Saviour of the world, could so easily pass down his throat!

Now, follow those children to their homes after that great and monstrous

comedy. See their gait! Listen to their conversation and their bursts of

laughter! Study their manners, their coming in, their going out, their

glances of satisfaction on their fine clothes, and the vanity which they

manifest in return for the congratulations they receive on their fine

dresses. Notice the lightness of their actions and conversation

immediately after their communion, and tell me if you find anything

indicating that they believed in the terrible dogma they have been

taught!

No, they have not believed in it, neither will they ever do so with the

firmness of faith which is accompanied by intelligence. The poor child

thinks he believes, and he sincerely tries to do so. He believes in it

as much as it is possible to believe in a most monstrous and ridiculous

story, opposed to the simplest notions of truth and common sense. He

believes as Roman Catholics believe. He believes as an idiot believes!!

He believes as a corpse believes!

That first communion has made of him, for the rest of his life, a real

machine in the hands of the Pope. It is the first but most powerful link

of that long chain of slavery which the priest and the Church pass

around his neck. The Pope holds the end of that chain, and with it he

will make his victim go right or left at his pleasure, in the same way

that we govern the lower animals. If those children have made a good

first communion they will be submissive to the Pope, according to the

energetic word of Loyola. They will be in the hands of the Supreme

Pontiff of Rome just what the stick is in the hand of the traveller—they

will have no will, no thought of their own!

And if God does not work a miracle to bring them out from the bondage

which is a thousand times worse than the Egyptian, they will remain in

that state during the rest of their lives.

My soul has known the weight of those chains. It has felt the ignominy

of that slavery! But the great Conqueror of souls has cast down a

merciful eye upon me. He has broken my chains, and with His holy Word He

has made me free.

May His name be forever blessed!

Fifty Years in the Church of Rome · 第 8 / 67 章